***
Michael wanted to smash something. He wanted to throw a vase across the room and enjoy the sound of it breaking, if only to have the satisfaction of doing so. If he were in London, he would make a trip to Gentleman Jackson’s Boxing Saloon and pick a fight with the first man he saw and pummel the living daylights out of him, perhaps even challenge the famed pugilist himself.
At this point, anything would be better than the swirling, internal strife that was going on inside of his body. His brain was telling him to be rational, his heart was beating with the continued, irrational hope of unrequited love, and his fists were yearning to punch something. He was a complete mess, because now he had no idea what to do. He was absolutely at a loss. When he’d left the library, he had been so furious that anything his eyes touched turned red. He had been set upon ridding himself of her once and for all.
But not fifteen minutes later, Albina dared to approach him and spins him in a completely different direction.
He clenched his jaw. He wanted to hold on to his anger, to his bruised pride. He didn’t want to forgive her, but he knew that he would have no choice in the end but to relent to his heart’s desire. That fickle organ in his chest had caused more problems for him than he’d been willing to accept, and it seemed it wasn’t through with him yet.
CHAPTER TEN
A lady must never drink to excess…
Lady A’s Advice Column
Albina had been relieved when Michael decided to stay at Beauley Hall, if only for Mrs. Humphrey’s sake, who thanked her profusely. She would have also liked to be able to take the credit for getting Michael to listen to reason even if he might detest the thought of residing under the same roof as she did, if only for a few days.
But she knew he had only remained because of her promise that she would soon be gone, tossed out of his life and forgotten like the contents of a chamber pot.
For the next few days, they were careful to avoid each other. Albina returned to taking a tray in her rooms, and when she did venture downstairs to speak with the staff about St. John’s Eve, Michael was either closeted in his study, or had gone out.
In all that time, she hadn’t seen the messenger return, and the name Petranella was never uttered again.
But now that she only had one day left at Beauley Hall, the arrangements all set for the big celebration she decided that she would have a party of her own. She skipped dinner, because her stomach was honestly not prepared for food of any kind, but she managed to sneak a bottle of port from Michael’s study on the rare occasion he wasn’t there. Then again, it was well after midnight and he, as well as most of the staff, had already retired. She would have preferred a bit of sherry, but since it was the only thing she could find, it would have to do, even though it was considered a gentleman’s drink.
She crept to the music room at the back of the house where she might not disturb anyone, and took her first bracing sip of the wine where she sat on the pianoforte bench. She saw the large mirror on the opposite wall, so she tipped up the bottle and mockingly toasted her reflection. She normally shied away from spirits as she didn’t have the constitution to abide them, but tonight, she was making an exception. She would likely pay for it in the morning with a megrim and a sour stomach as well, but again, exceptions would have to be made.
For just a time, she wanted something that would dull her senses, and perhaps even give her a decent night’s sleep, since insomnia had been her only companion of late.
Besides, if gentlemen could do it, why couldn’t she? She was a grown woman who had done her duty in life, even if it might be falling apart now. In her mind, that was even more of a reason to enjoy the little things that life had to offer, or in this case, Michael’s liquor cabinet.
By the time she was starting to feel a bit more relaxed, she decided that the room was much too quiet. Sitting the half empty bottle down on the floor beside her, she poised her hands above the keys of the instrument and searched her mind for the appropriate notes of Mozart’s No. 24 in C minor. It was time she put those countless music lessons her mother paid a fortune for to good use.
She closed her eyes, waiting for the magic to happen — and hit the wrong note. Her eyes popped open on a frown. She was a bit out of practice, to be sure, but surely she could recall how to play a simple piano concerto. But when she tried again, she was rewarded with the same results.
Grumbling, she snagged her bottle of port from the floor. She took a drink and stared at the ivory and black keys before her. “You’re just doing this on purpose because you belong to him,” she muttered. “You’re probably not even in proper tune—”
“There’s nothing wrong with the piano.”
Albina jerked in surprised, causing her to lose her tenuous hold on the bottle, sending it crashing to the floor. While it was remarkable that the glass didn’t break, the dark red liquid began to leak out of the opening. “Oh, look what you made me do!” If she were standing, she would likely have stamped her foot in irritation.
As she leaned backward to grab the bottle, she found that her balance wasn’t quite as steady as she had imagined. She would have hit the floor if Michael hadn’t rushed forward to catch her. As if her current state inebriated state wasn’t bad enough for him to witness. It was just another fault in her list of growing transgressions.
“Let’s get you to bed, shall we?” he said.
Albina wanted to hope that there was a touch of concern in his deep voice, but she wasn’t going to believe something that wasn’t there. “What about the bottle—?”
“I’ll have one of the servants take care of it,” he interrupted stoically.
“It may stain—”
“It will be fine.” He helped her to stand, but it was as if all the bones in the lower half of her body had congealed into something resembling warm pudding.
As she started to collapse into another heap on the floor, she felt herself cradled in a pair of strong arms and nestled against a warm chest. She instantly nuzzled closer to the pleasing scent that wafted to her nostrils. “You smell divine,” she whispered.
His only reply was, “You never could handle your alcohol.”
“I’m perfectly fine—” She frowned, her vision fuzzy. Was she dreaming, or had she learned how to fly? “Wait. Are you carrying me?” She paused. “Again?”
“It seems to have become something of a recent habit,” he returned dryly.
She wiggled in his arms. “Oh, you must put me down!”
He grunted. “Hold still, unless you want me to drop you.”
She instantly ceased her struggles. “But surely I’m too heavy—”
“Haven’t I already proven that I’m not that old that just yet?” His lips twitched, and suddenly she wanted nothing more than to kiss him soundly on the mouth.
She shook her head. Dear Lord, the wine must have gone straight to my head.
Michael entered her bedchamber and set her on her feet near the bed. His eyes were warm and filled with desire as his hands slowly slid away from her. He paused, as if he wanted to say something, but in the end, he stepped back and murmured, “I think you can make it from here.”
When he started to turn away, Albina reached out and grabbed hold of his shirtsleeve. “What if I wanted you to stay?”
His jaw clenched, but he didn’t move. “Why? What good would that do either of us? We already know what’s going to happen after tomorrow.”
She swallowed, her throat dry. “Because, good or not, I’ve never stopped wanting you, Chael.” She sighed, a quivering thread of emotion causing her voice to tremble. “I always have, and I always will.”
He turned and captured her face between his large palms, growling with a mixture between pleasure and pain. “God, Albina. No matter what happens between us, I can’t seem to stop myself from bowing to your every need, your every desire. I only wish that I was enough.” His throat worked with suppressed emotion. “All I’ve ever wanted is for you to be happy. It’s the reason why I
left London five years ago. It wasn’t because I stopped loving you, but because I was afraid that if I stayed, my love would destroy you. I wanted to give you back your freedom, to give you space to do the only thing you truly wanted, to write.”
Albina felt a sob welling up in her chest, but she pushed it back down. She clutched his shoulders and looked him straight in the eye, praying that he could see how sincere her words were. “You are all I’ve ever needed, Chael. You always have been. It’s true that I needed to find myself again, and not just so I could pen an advice column for a monthly article. But when you left, that is what nearly destroyed me. I thought you didn’t care about me anymore.”
He pressed his forehead against hers. “God, I’ve been such a blind fool. All this time I thought I was doing right by you, but all I’ve managed to do is injure us both.”
“We were both wrong,” she corrected. “If it hadn’t been for our pride standing in the way, we might have spent the past five years together instead of apart. But because we didn’t know what to say to each other, we’ve wasted so much time.” The sob she’d been trying so hard to contain finally escaped. “I don’t want to waste any more. I want us to be together. Always.”
Michael blew out a breath, shaking his head. “Miracles can come true, after all,” he whispered, as he caught her mouth with his.
Albina felt tears course down her face, but she ignored them as she clung to Michael as if she were his only tether to this earth.
They undressed quickly and fell upon her bed in a naked tangle of arms and legs. They kissed and touched and loved one another until the dawn rose. And after a long and satisfying night, they fell asleep, cradled in each other’s arms.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
A lady must never make a public display…
Lady A’s Advice Column
Albina awoke to the sun shining brightly through a crack in the drapes. For the first time in years, she was eager to face the new day. Surprisingly enough, even though she had drunk nearly a half bottle of port, she felt no ill effects. Not only that, but after last night, she’d lain all her inhibitions about Michael to rest. She was determined to face any problems that might arise between them, with an open mind and not to jump to any more unsavory conclusions.
She rolled over in bed and expected to find her husband gone, but instead, she rejoiced to see him lying beside her. She blushed, knowing what a sight Helen must have walked in on that morning, not expecting her mistress to have company in her bed.
She wanted to reach out and stroke her hand down that strong furry chest, maybe even slide a bit lower to stroke his glorious cock, but she refrained. Today was St. John’s Eve, and there were some last minute preparations that she needed to see to.
She carefully crawled out of bed and grabbed her robe, slipping it on over her nakedness. Going into her husband’s room, she rang for Helen and asked for a bath to be prepared. Her maid obeyed her commands, although there was a pleased smile around the corners of her lips.
Once Albina was dressed in a simple lavender day gown, she went downstairs to seek out Mrs. Humphrey, stunned to find that it was already mid-afternoon. She found the housekeeper in the kitchen speaking with the cook. The moment she spied Albina, she offered a curtsy. “Good morning, my lady. I was just going over things with Mrs. Dryler. I think we’re all set for tonight.”
“I’m relieved to hear it,” Albina replied. “Are you sure there isn’t anything I might assist with?”
The housekeeper patted her hand. “Not to worry, it’s all in hand. You’ve done so much already, it’s time to enjoy the fruits of your labor.” She offered a kind smile, but then raised a finger. “Oh, I nearly forgot! I went to the village this morning, and Mrs. Brandt asked me to deliver this to you for tonight’s celebration.”
Albina accepted the box, knowing what was inside. But in all the excitement and turmoil that she had been dealing with Michael, she had nearly forgotten the silver gown that she’d commissioned the local modiste to make for her. Now, she couldn’t wait to count down the hours until she could wear it. She hoped that Michael would approve. “Thank you.”
She was on her way back up to her chamber when she was grabbed from behind on the first floor landing. She gasped as Michael’s arms went around her, and his teeth grazed the side of her neck, causing a rush of desire to course through her body. “There’s my beautiful wife.” He licked a trail of fire to her earlobe, nipping the tip of it before letting her go. His gaze dropped to the box held in her grasp. “What do you have there?”
She lifted her chin and tightened her grip on the package. “It’s a surprise.”
He grinned wickedly. “I love surprises.”
Albina’s stomach clenched. She couldn’t believe that she was still in need of this man after he’d pleasured her so thoroughly just a few short hours ago.
“My lord, this just arrived for you.”
Albina looked at the simple sealed letter that Jeffries handed to his master as if it were a snake, coiled and ready to strike. Don’t even think it, she chided herself.
She watched Michael carefully as he tore open the missive. He frowned, but after a moment, his face cleared. “Good news?” she asked, trying to sound nonchalant.
“Very.” He smiled broadly and she couldn’t help but melt. “Go upstairs and get ready. The festivities will be starting soon.”
As she turned her back on him, he swatted her behind playfully. A giggle rose up in her throat, but she contained it until she reached the sanctity of her room.
***
Helen had just put the finishing touches on her mistress’ hair when there was a brisk knock at the door. “Are you nearly ready?” It was her husband’s impatient voice. “Our guests are waiting for the festivities to begin, but we can’t do that without the lord and lady of the house present.”
“It never stopped you before,” she couldn’t help but call out in return. It was hard to let go of the past five years, even though it seemed as though she might be lingering on after St. John’s Day after all.
“New rule.”
Albina smiled as she rose to her feet. She knew that she looked her best tonight, the silver of her gown showing off her every curve to the best advantage. Her subdued copper hair was pulled back into an elegant chignon and she wore an elegant silver wreath, strewn with seed pearls upon top, an early anniversary gift from Michael. It was hard to believe how fast twenty-five years of marriage had gone by.
She only prayed that the next twenty-five were even better.
Helen let herself out of the door of Albina’s sitting room. So after a deep breath, she walked over and opened the door for Michael. He stood on the other side, looking entirely resplendent in his black and white finery. While it might have looked simple on any other man, the stark contrast only highlighted his towering frame and the silver at his temples. For a man who was nearly fifty years old, he looked better than some men who were half his age.
But while she admired him, she had the feeling it was nothing compared to the smoldering heat in his brown eyes as he regarded her. He let his gaze drop to the floor, slowly dragging it back up the length of her. He lifted his hand and ran a finger across the bottom of his lip, his gaze stopping momentarily on the swell of her breasts.
“And just when I thought nothing could be more tempting than the red…” he murmured. He reached out and took her chin in his grasp. “You are absolutely delectable, my dear. I can’t wait to peel this lovely material off of you later.”
He kissed her until they were both breathless. When he pulled back, she said, “It’s tradition to wait until midnight.”
“Hang tradition.” He growled. “Tonight you’re mine and I don’t feel like sharing.”
“We should at least make an appearance, remember?” she said, although she realized she wouldn’t mind it if they didn’t make it downstairs either.
He sighed. “I suppose you’re right.” He threaded her arm though his. “We do have expectations to up
hold, and an entire village that is waiting on us.”
She turned her face up to look at him and wondered what she’d done to deserve such an incredible man. “Then let’s not disappoint them.”
***
Michael’s heart swelled in his chest as he observed his wife chatting and laughing her way through the crowd of merry makers. A large bonfire had been constructed in the front lawn, casting everything in a flickering glow, its flames licking far upward into the clear, night sky. It was a warm summer’s evening, but when he looked at Albina, he was filled with a fire of a different sort. After all this time, it was like seeing her again for the first time. What have I done to deserve such an incredible woman?
He was so focused on his wife that he didn’t notice it when a woman appeared at his elbow. “Lord Beauley?”
He glanced down to see a simple woman with plain brown hair and direct blue eyes looking at him. Beside her stood an older gentleman with a tuft of white hair and a gentle smile, his arm wrapped up and bundled next to his chest.
Michael held out a hand to him. “Mr. Holmes. I’m glad that you could join us this evening. It’s been a long time, but I’m glad I was able to persuade you to attend tonight.”
The other man accepted the offering graciously. “I must say I was rather surprised to receive your invitation, my lord. Your request was rather…untoward. In all my days as a vicar I daresay I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
“Just ask my wife and she’ll tell you that I’m far from being normal.” He winked. “I’m just glad you were able to make it. After your daughter wrote to me and told me that you’d broken your arm, I didn’t think you would be well enough to travel.”
Second Chance Love: A Regency Romance Set Page 26
