Second Chance Love: A Regency Romance Set

by Wendy Lacapra

  But that was a topic left for another time. He didn’t want to rush her and ruin what little they had gained.

  “I can’t imagine why,” he teased.

  She rolled her eyes and moved slightly, her gorgeous breasts suddenly bared for his viewing enjoyment. In such a good mood, he couldn’t resist turning and pinning her to the bed. She gasped, but her eyes told him that she wasn’t resistant to his advances.

  He looked down at the rosy peaks of her nipples and bent his head to take a gentle nibble. Her breasts quivered as she gave a sharp inhale. “Chael…”

  God, he would never tire of hearing his name on her lips, especially when she was in the throes of passion. He rewarded her by licking the delicate peak with his tongue, before taking it into his mouth and suckling. Her hips instantly lifted, a clear indication of what she wanted. If the throbbing between his own legs was any sign, he was also ready for the second round.

  He grasped his cock, centering himself at her entrance. “Look at me, Alby.”

  Her hazel eyes lifted slightly, but it was enough. He thrust into her in one smooth flex of his hips. She reached up and wrapped her arms around his shoulders and urged him down to her mouth. He went willingly, kissing and teasing her until they were once again on the brink.

  And when they convulsed together again, the moment was so complete and fulfilling that Chael pulled Albina into the crook of his arm in the aftermath, and soon fell asleep with her nestled against his chest.

  ***

  Albina stretched in the morning sunlight that streamed in through the window. Muscles that she hadn’t used in quite some time ached, but she merely grinned at the pain. She reached out her arm, but her husband’s side of the bed was empty. She had to admit she was slightly disappointed, but she would just get dressed and go seek him out. In truth, she was almost giddy with the thought.

  It was rather ironic, for considering how she had felt when she’d arrived at Beauley Hall more than a week ago, she hadn’t been sure how her homecoming would turn out, if she and Chael would even be able to remain in the same room without a terrible awkward silence between them. That first night certainly hadn’t gone well.

  Now, she could only admit that her pleasant mood was because of him. After such a sizzling night together, she began to think that perhaps their marriage wasn’t doomed after all. A grin quickly spread across her face, for she realized she hadn’t felt so young and carefree in years. It was as if the excitement, that spark of new love was slowly returning. And she couldn’t be happier.

  She returned to her chamber and rang for Helen, asking her to prepare a bath and requesting a bit of extra lavender to be added to the water. Under the circumstances, she wanted to splurge a bit.

  Afterward, Albina donned a yellow muslin. With a cheery smile on her face, and a decided spring to her step, she headed downstairs. Once she greeted Chael, she intended to speak with Mrs. Humphrey and ask what she could do to assist with the arrangements for St. John’s Eve. She was the mistress of this estate, after all. With less than two weeks to go, she didn’t intend to spend her days twirling her thumbs.

  Although she had a good idea how she planned on spending her nights…

  Of course, as her grin grew, the inspiration she needed to write was surely not far away. She was certainly feeling motivated this morning.

  The sound of an angry male voice met her ears, and Albina paused in the middle of the stairs, her hand clutching the banister. The study door was slightly ajar, so she could hear enough to discern that the irritated growl belonged to Michael, but the other one she couldn’t quite place.

  “…sent to Petranella at once.”

  Petranella?

  Albina tightened her grip on the railing until her knuckles turned white, as a snippet of her husband’s clipped conversation drifted to her ears.

  She hesitated, thinking that she should just continue on her way, to leave him with his guest, but instead, she crept closer to the open door. Her mother, if she were still alive, would be horrified to think that she was eavesdropping. “Nothing good ever came from it,” she would warn. And yet, Albina couldn’t tear herself away.

  “Yes, my lord,” came the meek reply.

  “Make sure that you wait for a reply. And for the love of God bring any further correspondence to the back door.” Albina winced at the furious tone in Michael’s voice. In all the years she’d known him, it wasn’t often that he got that angry. Whatever had happened, he wasn’t pleased. More than likely it was something to do with one of the tenants.

  She started to back away from the door, feeling like an intruder, when his next words stopped her in her tracks.

  “It’s imperative that my wife doesn’t find out about any of this, do you understand?”

  Albina felt her heart drop into her stomach. She began to hear a terrible buzzing inside of her head, and was instantly nauseous. She didn’t wait to hear any more of their conversation.

  At this point, she’d heard quite enough.

  She spun away from the door, but instead of going to seek out the housekeeper, she rushed back up the stairs to her chamber.

  She slammed the door shut behind her and leaned heavily against it. Her entire body was shaking, her lungs expanding to the point of pain, but nothing mattered but those final condemning words that came from her husband’s own lips.

  Her mother had been right. Nothing good ever came from eavesdropping; for there was only one explanation that made sense, why Michael might be corresponding with another woman while requesting that it remain absolutely secret from her.

  He has a mistress.

  Tears stung the back of her eyelids, but she refused to let them fall. She also had to fight the urge to pack her things and return to London posthaste. She would not be a coward and run away in shame. After all, she wasn’t the one who had done anything wrong. Granted, it might be difficult to look Michael in the eye after knowing the truth, and any hope that they might make amends had come crashing down, but she would be strong. She had planned to stay until the St. John’s Eve celebration, and that’s what she would do. But once it was over, she would return to London.

  And that’s where she would stay.

  CHAPTER NINE

  A lady must never make a hasty judgment…

  Lady A’s Advice Column

  Michael stood in the doorway of the ballroom, arms crossed, leaning against the frame, as he watched his wife and Mrs. Humphrey discuss what decorations would be needed for the St. John’s Eve celebration. Albina’s entire body was animated, her face set and focused on her task, as her hands moved about.

  He had to snort. She never had been able to talk without using her entire body to express what she was saying.

  He was impressed with how much devotion she was putting into making this year’s party a success. For the past week, she had spoken with all of the staff and had instantly thrown herself in the preparations. He could tell that Mrs. Humphrey was glad to share the burden of planning, and while he didn’t want to tell himself that Albina’s eagerness to assist had anything to do with the fact it would be their twenty-fifth anniversary, he couldn’t help but believe this would be the year everything would change for the better.

  He suddenly frowned. However, now that he came to think of it, she had declined every offer he’d made in the past seven days. Whether it was to offer another trip to the village, or take a ride together in the afternoon, or to even let him teach her how to properly drive the newly repaired phaeton, her answer was always the same. Even though things between them had become a stalemate, she claimed she was exhausted from so much work. True, she’d been ill before throwing herself into the plans for St. John’s Eve, so he hadn’t pressed the issue.

  But now he had to wonder if there was an underlying reason for her reticence to be alone with him. Not only was she silent, speaking very little during the times she did join him for meals, but she hadn’t pursued any more conjugal visits either. After that one, amazing night, he’d thou
ght things had vastly improved, that the chasm had closed considerably between them.

  So what had changed?

  Perhaps it was time he found out.

  He walked forward and approached the two women. Mrs. Humphrey greeted him with a warm smile, but Albina’s eyes were as frosty as a winter windowpane. He frowned. Now he knew he wasn’t just being paranoid.

  Something had definitely happened. What the hell did I do?

  “Alby, can I speak with you a moment?”

  She visibly stiffened at the sound of her nickname. “I’m rather busy, my lord. St. John’s Eve is only a few days away.”

  “I’m aware of that,” he returned evenly. “I’ll keep it brief.”

  Michael could tell she was going to deny him again, but salvation came in the form of his housekeeper. “It’s fine, my lady. We can resume later this afternoon. I have a few things I can see to while you and Lord Beauley chat.”

  As she took her leave, Albina clasped her hands before her and waited for him to speak.

  Michael wanted to run his hand through his hair in frustration. She wasn’t going to make this easy for him. She was as uptight as the governess he’d had as a child.

  “Let’s retire to the library and have a drink.” I know I can use one.

  He wanted to look behind him to see if his wife followed, but he could feel her presence in the room as surely as if a thundercloud had just rolled in off of the ocean. He poured himself a brandy and glanced at her. “Would you care for something?”

  “No, thank you.” She stood by the door as if prepared to bolt at any moment.

  Just in case she acted on the impulse, he said, “Shut the door, please.” He thought he heard her sigh, but she did as he asked. He gestured to the settee. “Have a seat.”

  She sat, her back ramrod straight, her hands clasped tightly in her lap.

  Damn. He walked over to the mantel and leaned against the marble, his glass dangling from his fingertips. He watched her for a time, and she met his gaze unflinchingly. Without any clue as to what might have gotten under her skin, he decided it would be best to address the issue directly. “Have I done something to offend you?” he asked bluntly.

  If possible, she stiffened even further. “Why would you say that?”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” he scoffed, taking a deep swallow of his brandy. “Maybe it’s because ever since that single glorious night you’ve acted as though I don’t exist.”

  “Have I?”

  He wasn’t about to believe that innocent query. “You know you have.”

  She remained irritably mute.

  “Tell me what’s wrong, Alby.”

  Those hazel eyes lit on him with such dislike that he felt as if she’d punched him in the stomach. “You have no right to call me that.”

  “Don’t I?” He gave a bark of laughter, devoid of humor. “You’re my wife, even if you might not like the fact.”

  She set her jaw. “Indeed. And as your wife, I would think that her husband shouldn’t keep secrets from her.”

  Now he was completely lost. “What are you talking about?”

  “Don’t play me for a fool, Michael!” She stood up and turned her back on him, as if trying to keep her composure. “I know about your mistress!”

  The deafening silence that followed her accusation caused his grip to tighten on his glass.

  When she spun around to face him, her eyes were sparking with anger and unshed tears, the color growing higher on her cheeks. “I overheard you talking to that messenger in your study the morning after—” She broke off, as if unable to even remind herself of the night that had changed everything for him.

  Apparently, it had done nothing for her.

  “So instead of believing that you made a mistake,” he said quietly, “you choose to stand there and paint me as the villain, condemning me for a snippet of a conversation that you know nothing about.”

  She crossed her arms. “I know what I heard.” She tossed her head. “Besides, it’s not as if you’ve been living a life of celibacy while we’ve been apart.”

  Michael felt a blistering rage boiling up inside of him. For the past five years, he had been faithful, waiting for the only woman he’d ever loved to return to him. But now, to have her throw all those years of torment in his face—

  He threw his glass into the fire, ignoring it when it shattered, sending sparks from the liquor blazing in the hearth. “Damn you, woman!” he roared. He pointed an accusing finger at her. “I have stayed in this house for the past five years, yearning for the one thing I dared to let go. I know you won’t believe me when I tell you that I have not taken a lover in your absence, nor will you believe that I still love you.” He snorted. “But obviously love is nothing more than a poison that rots the mind, causing mistrust and betrayal to take root. I had hoped that when you arrived, things might be different, but now I can see that we are at an impasse. And while it may be difficult to obtain a divorce, the cost might very well drain my coffers, I now know that is the only way to ever make you happy.”

  With nothing else to be said, Michael left the library, slamming the door on his way out.

  ***

  Albina jumped at Michael’s departure. In all her life, she had never seen him so angry. She actually feared that he might strike her; his eyes were blazing with such a swirling mixture of pain and fury.

  She slowly sank back down upon the settee. Her entire body was shaking and she knew her legs wouldn’t be able to support her any longer.

  She put a trembling hand to her mouth, too distraught to even let any tears fall. She hadn’t imagined it, she knew that much. She had overheard Michael speak of another woman — Petranella — had even heard him mention that Albina couldn’t know about her.

  So what other conclusion was she supposed to arrive at?

  But after that explosion, now she had to reassess everything. Michael had seemed so…adamant, so brutally honest in his innocence, that now she began to doubt where her imagination had led her.

  She put her face in her hands.

  Unfortunately, it had been too easy to think that her husband was keeping sordid secrets from her. Even after the night where she had dared to dream that they were finally going to be able to get past their differences and make amends, she had dared to see him in the worst light come morning. She claimed that she loved Michael, but would she condemn him so easily if that were true?

  Maybe he was right and they should just petition the church for a divorce. But not only would it be a trying and expensive ordeal, just as he claimed, but then they would truly be alone. As it was, she still felt that tenuous thread of affection between them, that connection, but after today, she might have very well severed that last tie, where there was no going back.

  Or moving forward.

  In spite of her doubts, she might have very well just broken her own heart.

  “Oh, my lady! There you are!” Mrs. Humphrey burst into the library with a harried look on her face.

  Albina instantly got to her feet, but something told her she already knew why the housekeeper was so upset. “Has something happened?”

  She nabbed a handkerchief from her dress pocket and dabbed at her eyes. “Oh, in all my years I’ve never even heard of such a thing!” She turned her weathered face to her mistress and cried, “The master is leaving!”

  The blood drained from Albina’s face. She knew Michael was mad, but she never expected this. “Leaving? Where does he intend to go?”

  The older woman threw up her hands in exasperation. “He said he would be taking rooms at the local inn until the St. John’s Eve celebration.” She shook her head. “I just don’t know what’s brought this on, my lady. I can’t imagine why he would suddenly leave his own estate in order to seek…lodgings in the village! Oh, it’s just unheard of!” she wailed. “What will people think?”

  That his wife is a beast to live with… “I’ll see if I can talk to him.”

  Mrs. Humphrey reached out and grasp
ed Albina’s hand. “Oh, my lady, that would be ever so kind if you could convince him to stay.”

  Albina wasn’t sure she’d have much luck, but she went upstairs to Michael’s chamber. There, she found that he was, indeed, packing a bag to depart, his towering form hunched over the bed. His valet wasn’t in sight, having likely run away in horror at the way her husband had just thrown clothing asunder.

  At a loss of what to say, she cleared her throat delicately, finally gaining his attention. He shot a dark look over his shoulder. “What are you doing here?” he snapped. “I thought we’d already said everything there is to say.”

  Since she didn’t know how to reply to that, she thought of the dear housekeeper and said, “You don’t have to do this. Mrs. Humphrey is beside herself.”

  This caused him to pause. “That is regrettable. I never wanted to upset her.”

  She sighed heavily. “Look, Michael. We are two, responsible adults. Surely you can manage to put up with my presence in this house until Wednesday.”

  “And what might change then?” he asked with a snort.

  “I’ll be returning to London, of course.” Again, he hesitated, but this time he turned to face her fully. She waited for him to speak, but when he didn’t, she went on. “I would leave now if you prefer it, but I have enjoyed working on the arrangements for the St. John’s Eve celebration on Tuesday evening. I promise that as soon as the clock strikes midnight, I will be back on the road to London and you never have to see me again.”

  She turned her face from his direct stare, swallowing heavily. “I’m sorry about earlier. I may have reacted…prematurely, but please understand, I never meant to hurt you, nor was my purpose in coming back to Beauley Hall to cause you more difficulty. I only wanted to see if things could be…better between us. Now that I know they can’t, I will remain at Baine House.”

  She knew the next sentence she uttered would be her undoing, but she also knew that it needed to be said. “I don’t see a cause for divorce unless you are set upon the course, and if that is the case, I won’t contest it.” She held her breath, waiting for him to reply, but when he didn’t, she turned to leave. She paused at the door, saying over her shoulder. “Goodbye, Chael. I’m truly sorry it ended up this way.”