by Marie Force
“That’s the best news I’ve had in many very long days.”
After that, there were no more words, only deep, drugging kisses that reminded her of the days following their wedding when they hadn’t been able to fully sate their desire for each other. She couldn’t deny that some of the magic between them had returned with him, and the time apart had apparently been good for them both.
He removed her robe and night rail, his eyes filled with love and desire as he looked at her and ran his hands reverently over her body.
Her skin felt tight, especially the tips of her breasts and the place between her legs.
Derek moved quickly to remove his clothing and urged her into his bed. His haste only made her more desperate to feel the way she did only when he touched her this way. When he joined her, he put his arms around her and resumed the kisses that made her head spin in the best possible way.
Keeping his arms around her, he moved onto his back, settling her on top of him.
Catherine remembered how scandalized she’d been the first time they’d done this, but now she knew what he wanted and how to do it. Just because she knew how, though, didn’t make the task any easier. Her muscles fought the intrusion at first. And then, when she sank down on top of him, he let out a low growl of pleasure. His hands on her hips guided her as she moved, gasping every time she took him in.
“You are so incredibly beautiful,” he whispered, watching her intently. “I want to memorize the way you look right now so I’ll never forget it.”
Her heart contracted in her chest. He was everything she’d never dared dream of for herself, and in that moment of perfect harmony, of utter magic, his deceptions ceased to matter.
Chapter Twenty-Five
After their late night, Derek requested that their breakfast be served in their room, and he delivered hers in bed. “Wake up, sweet Catherine,” he said, kissing her creamy white shoulder. He’d awakened with a new feeling of optimism. The time apart had done them good, and her warm welcome the night before had been a balm on the wound that had threatened to fester between them.
“I have coffee for you.”
“I don’t like it,” she muttered.
“Excuse me?”
“I don’t like coffee.”
“I thought you did.”
She shook her head. “I didn’t want to be rude when you were so excited about it.”
Laughing, he said, “So I wasn’t the only one telling untruths.”
“Your untruths were far more significant than mine, Your Grace.” A glimmer of humor in her expression took the sting out of her comment.
Smiling, he said, “I’ll fix your tea.”
“Yes, please.” She turned over and sat up, pushing golden hair back from her face. Drawing the sheet up to cover her breasts, she accepted the steaming cup of tea fixed just the way she liked it. “Mmm.”
“Mrs. Langingham brought word from the village that several of the children are ill with fever. She thought you might wish to stay home this morning.”
“Has the doctor been summoned?”
“I told her that would be your first question, and yes, he has, for all the good he will do. I’m actively trying to hire a younger, more sophisticated doctor to tend to us.”
“It’s not influenza, is it? We had an awful outbreak of that at home a few years ago, and several children and adults died.”
“She didn’t call it that, but I will ask for an update.”
“I also hope it’s not the pneumonia that killed the king’s eldest son.”
“Let us hope it’s not either of those things. That was such an awful tragedy.”
“I want to go see what is happening in the village for myself.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I know I don’t have to. I want to.”
“You could spend the morning in bed with your husband.”
“There will be other days for that.” She got up from the bed, magnificent in her determination. “Today we have more important things to do.”
“We do?” he asked, his lips curving into an adoring smile.
“Well, I do. I wouldn’t presume to tell you what you have to do.”
“But I should like to be bossed about by you.”
“In that case, get dressed. We’re going to the village.”
* * *
The Flanagan family had been the hardest hit by the outbreak. Little Tommy and Lizzie were very sick, and baby Rosie was also lethargic with fever, the sight of which struck fear in Catherine’s heart, as she had seen the ravages of influenza before. Poor Mrs. Flanagan was a wreck as she tended to her sick babies.
“Your Graces,” she said, looking frazzled when Catherine and Derek appeared at her door, “I’m afraid we aren’t up for guests today.”
“Of course, you aren’t,” Catherine said. “We’ve come to help you with the children.”
Mrs. Flanagan seemed truly shocked by that.
“Tell us what we can do to help.”
Thus began a two-day siege of backbreaking work on behalf of the Flanagans and other families in the village. Catherine organized a huge fire pit in the center of town where bedding and other linens were burned. Hot water was brought in to sanitize the homes and bathe the stricken children.
Derek lost track of time as he helped out where needed, hauled pots of hot water along with the other men and watched his magnificent wife take command of the situation. She did everything from rocking feverish babies to bathing toddlers to cooking for weary parents to tending to siblings who hadn’t been stricken by the fever, determined to keep them clean, fed and well.
Mrs. Langingham and Amelia sent loads of food and warm soups to the stricken families.
During the second night, he feared they were going to lose baby Rosie Flanagan as her fever spiked even higher than it had been during the day.
Mrs. Flanagan walked the baby until she was too exhausted to go on, which was when Catherine took over. She was still walking the child when Derek fell into a rocking chair, too tired to remain awake for another minute. He felt like a coward in the face of his wife’s extraordinary efforts.
He awoke with a crick in his neck to the good news that Rosie had survived the night and that most of the children who’d been stricken had improved ever so slightly overnight.
Mr. Flanagan, who had slept in the bedroom with Dalia, emerged from the room and seemed shocked to find the duke and duchess still there.
“Your Grace,” he said, “we owe you and Her Grace an enormous debt of gratitude that we can never repay, but you must take your wife home to sleep now. I should hate to see her become ill as well.”
“As would I, sir,” Derek said. To Catherine, he added, “Mr. Flanagan is correct, my dear. You need your rest.” He could see that she wanted to argue the point, but rather she handed baby Rosie over to her father.
“You are an extraordinary woman,” Mr. Flanagan said, his throat tight with emotion. “We will never have the words to properly thank you.”
Dalia threw her arms around Catherine, who hugged her tightly. “Practice your spelling, and we will get back to lessons as soon as everyone returns to good health.”
“I practice every day,” Dalia said.
“That’s what makes you my very best student.” Catherine kissed the top of the child’s head and allowed Derek to usher her out the door where other villagers continued to tend to the fire she had ordered. People called out their thanks to Derek and Catherine as they headed for home.
“Mr. Flanagan is correct that you are an extraordinary woman, my love.”
“I didn’t do anything special. I just helped where I was needed.”
“You did far more than help. You brought love, compassion and practicality to people who badly needed it. I have never been prouder of anyone in my life than I am of my wife today.”
“That is very kind of you to say. I don’t intend to allow my lofty new title to change who I am as a person.”
“I believe that is quite apparent to everyone after your exceptional efforts.”
“We must never forget that we will someday be judged by the way we cared for the people who depend upon us.”
“That is very true, and with you by my side, I shall be judged most favorably.”
“I am beginning to understand, Your Grace, that your title and resources allow me to help people in a way I never could before.”
“My name is Derek, and you should use your title and our resources any way you see fit to help make this world a better place. I would actually pity the fool who got in the way of the Duchess of Westwood when she has her mind set on something.”
Catherine smiled at him, and even though he could plainly see the fatigue in the dark circles under her eyes, he felt the magic between them as plainly as he had at the beginning. One small step at a time, they were returning to the place where they began, and he couldn’t wait to get there.
* * *
After returning home, they bathed and slept for several hours, rising in time to dress for dinner with Derek’s friends, Lord Enderly and Mr. Nelson, who had come from town for a visit with the newlyweds.
“I had to see this with my own eyes,” Enderly said as Derek strolled into the drawing room with his wife on his arm. Enderly bowed dramatically before them. “Your Grace,” he said to Catherine, “I bow down to the woman who brought our friend up to scratch. You cost me a small fortune in lost wagers, but judging by the happy smile on my dear friend’s face, I would say the loss was worth it.”
“Catherine, may I present the fool known as Justin, Lord Enderly,” Derek said, embracing his friend with a slap on the back, proud to show off his beautiful wife. “And this is our dear friend from America, Aubrey Nelson.”
Catherine greeted the handsome men with a warm and welcoming smile. “Lovely to meet you both. I’ve heard much about you.” Enderly had light brown hair and twinkling blue eyes, while Nelson had dark hair and eyes. Both seemed exceptionally fond of her husband as they accepted drinks and caught up on the latest news from town.
“You and Simon both,” Enderly said in amazement. “You are the talk of the town.”
“I know,” Derek said. “I heard an earful when I was there, which is one of many reasons I’m very glad to be here.”
“Simon is bearing up well on behalf of you both,” Aubrey said. “I’ve never seen anything quite like the way the two of you went from confirmed bachelors to happy matrimony in the blink of an eye.”
Derek took hold of Catherine’s hand, smiling at his wife. “When the right one comes along, you do whatever it takes to keep her from getting away.” He brought her hand to his lips and brushed a gentle kiss over her knuckles.
“Simon told us that Lindsey showed up making demands, that you paid off the earl’s debt and sent the viscount away with a limp,” Enderly said.
“I did,” Derek said, holding up the hand that was still bruised and scabbed from the fight.
“I would’ve liked to have seen that,” Nelson said.
“It was quite a show,” Catherine said. “His Grace ensured that we will never see Lindsey here again, which is fine by me.”
Enderly’s expression indicated his surprise at her use of Derek’s title, but he was too polite to mention it.
* * *
Derek kept hoping he might one day hear his given name from Catherine, but it hadn’t happened yet. He was trying to be patient and thankful for the progress they had made, but until he heard her say his real name, he wouldn’t be fully convinced that they had survived their troubles.
As the evening with his friends progressed to after-dinner drinks in the billiards room, Derek began to feel strange. His throat hurt, his head felt fuzzy and his body overly warm. He threw open the windows to let out the stink of Enderly’s cigar that made him unusually queasy. Under normal circumstances, he’d want one for himself.
Over dinner, Catherine had expressed an interest in learning to play the game, and he’d promised to teach her, which was why she had joined them in the typically male domain. He’d much rather have her with him than be separated the way they would be in town.
“Westy,” Enderly said. “You’re sweating profusely. Are you unwell?”
Catherine looked up at him and gasped. “Your Grace! What is the matter?”
“I’m not sure exactly. But I don’t feel well at all.” In fact, he felt worse by the minute.
“Let’s get you to bed,” Catherine said, taking him by the arm to lead him.
“My apologies, gentlemen,” he said to his friends.
“No apology needed,” Aubrey said. “We shall check on you in the morning.”
Catherine guided Derek up the stairs and through the winding corridors that led to his bedchamber, where she steered him to the bed. “Sit while I remove your boots.”
“Call for Gregory.” The room seemed to tilt, making him feel nauseated. “He can do it.”
“I will take care of you myself.”
“You shouldn’t be anywhere near me. Clearly whatever the children had is contagious.”
“If I am going to get it, I have already been exposed.” She helped him out of his jacket, waistcoat, shirt and pants with the aplomb of the most seasoned valet.
Without his clothing, Derek began to shiver uncontrollably.
“Into bed with you,” she said, pulling the covers up and over him.
“S-so cold,” he said, his teeth chattering as his throat began to seriously hurt. “Didn’t think adults could get what the children had.”
“Some of the adults came down with it when it hit our village at home,” she said, running a cool cloth over his forehead.
“Did they survive it?” he asked, gritting his teeth against the out-of-control shivering.
“They were fine.” Leaning in to kiss his cheek, she said, “Close your eyes and rest. I will be here.”
* * *
The moment she felt confident he was asleep, Catherine summoned Mrs. Langingham. “We need the doctor for His Grace,” she said, frantic. “He has the fever, and when it struck the adults in my village, every one of them perished. We must do something immediately.” She had lied to him when she told him they recovered, the first lie she’d ever told him.
Mrs. Langingham went pale. “I will send for the doctor at once.” She grasped Catherine’s arm. “His Grace is young and strong.”
Catherine nodded in agreement but didn’t tell her that men and women in her village had been young and strong and had succumbed nonetheless. Later they’d heard that the fever had virulent strains that attacked the seemingly healthy and killed them within days.
That couldn’t happen to him, to Derek.
Tears filled her eyes, which were still tired from the sleepless nights tending to the village children. He had to be all right. Any other outcome was simply unacceptable.
The doctor came and thoroughly examined the duke. “I’m sorry there is nothing to be done but to see to his comfort,” the doctor said, grimly. “And pray.”
“There has to be something we can do!” Catherine said frantically. “He was fine a short time ago.”
“It is indeed unusual for someone of his age and good health to be so stricken. It’s possible the duke was infected some time ago, but is only now experiencing the symptoms.”
Panic-stricken, Catherine thought back to the first time he’d taken her to the village to meet the families. Had he been infected then?
“Has he been under any unusual strain?” the doctor asked, his thick eyebrows knitted with concern that only added to Catherine’s panic.
“We have had some, ah, adjustments since we married,” she said, thinking of every time she had rebuffed his efforts to repair their fragile union, every time he had asked her to call him by his real name and she had refused. Had the strain she’d caused by refusing to forgive him led to his illness? One thing she knew for certain: she would never forgive herself if he died.
“I will chec
k on him in the morning,” the doctor said as he prepared to depart. “In the meantime, apply cool compresses to his face and regularly change the bedding so he is kept warm and dry.”
Catherine took note of the doctor’s instructions and had to bite back the urge to beg him to stay. Surely there had to be something he could do to make Derek well again.
The doctor left, and Mrs. Langingham came in with clean sheets, towels and blankets piled high in her arms. “What did he say, Your Grace?” she asked, her concern coming through in every word she said.
“That we have to wait and see and pray.”
“We will do all of that and more. I read in one of my journals that cool baths can benefit fever patients. If he worsens during the night, we can try that.”
“How would we ever get him to the bathing room?”
“We will enlist the help of his friends, who would do anything for him.”
Catherine bit her lip as she studied her husband’s handsome, sweaty face and hoped it wouldn’t come to that.
Chapter Twenty-Six
At six the next morning, desperation set in. Mrs. Langingham sent footmen to roust the duke’s friends from their beds to assist in moving him to the bathing room.
Catherine had removed wet, sweaty clothing and covered his private area with a thick towel. She’d been up all night, bathing his face as the doctor had directed and holding him close when the fever made him shiver with cold even though the room was overly warm.
With her head pressed to his chest, she was aware of the moment that his heart rate seemed to slow, which had her up and running for the door to summon help.
Justin and Aubrey were big men, but Derek was bigger, and they struggled to move his unconscious body. Jack Bancroft and one of the burlier footmen came in to help. They lowered Derek into the cool bath Catherine had drawn for him, and he immediately began to shiver uncontrollably while moaning in agony.
Seeing him in such obvious distress broke something in her, and she began to cry.
Aubrey put his arms around her and patted her back. “There now. He’s young and strong, and he’ll get through this. I know he will.”
Catherine barely knew the man, but she clung to him and his assurances as Mrs. Langingham bathed Derek’s face with cool cloths. She seemed to have an endless source of them, thankfully.
