by Lavinia Kent
And then, just as she’d felt her earlier hurt and anger begin to ease, as she sat beside him through the magic of a midnight service, he’d stiffened again, pulled back into his hauteur. Even so, she’d thought that once they returned to the house, Arthur would resume where he’d left off those weeks before. She sat in fear and anticipation at the thought of once again sharing his wide bed. But, as soon as they returned to the house, he headed off to his study for a drink, leaving her to make the long journey upstairs by herself.
What did the dratted duke intend?
Lily glanced down at herself. Her belly had flattened since Simon's birth, and while her breasts were still somewhat enlarged from nursing, she didn’t think they looked frightful. In fact, she thought their new fullness added a maturity and womanliness to her petite figure. She might be child-size and lacking the sophistication to which the duke undoubtedly was accustomed, but surely he didn’t find her actually distasteful. So, why hadn’t he brought her to his bed last night?
She stood before the mirror, staring down at her toes, trying to understand Arthur’s continued denial, when with a tap on the door he strode into her room.
She stepped back, startled. Rapidly she grabbed a quilt off the bed and wrapped it over her chemise. He smiled broadly at her apparent shyness, although she detected a certain wariness about his eyes.
“You were too slow coming down for breakfast and I grew impatient. I hope you forgive me.” He looked at her pointedly. For what exactly did he need forgiveness – his impatience or yesterday’s hauteur?
Lily shifted uneasily under his perusal. “There is nothing to forgive, your grace.” She drew the quilt more tightly about her chest, wishing she dared fetch her robe. “Was there something you desired?”
“Something I desired?” His eyes roamed freely over her body, as if he could see through the thick blanket, and the smile spread wider across his high cheeks. She shivered in nervous anticipation. Suddenly, he brought his eyes up to hers, and held her gaze captive.
“There’s always something I desire,” he growled huskily. “And didn’t you agree to call me Arthur?”
Lily flushed.
“Yes . . . Arthur.” He did look like her Arthur as he stood there in his fine doeskin breaches and linen shirt.
His posture relaxed and she watched his chest rise as he filled his lungs. Lily stepped back nervously. Had he come at last to divulge his plans for her? “Did you want something of me?” she asked, as she retreated further.
Arthur actually grinned at her jitters before opening his hands to reveal the well-designed jeweler’s box.
“It is Christmas, and I have come to give you your gift.”
Not quite ready to forgive him, she grumbled, “If you wanted to give me a gift, you might have bothered to write me in all the time you were gone. That would have been a gift.”
Uncomprehendingly, he shoved the box towards her. “Never mind that now. I don’t want to argue. The post must be slow. Here, take it.”
Biting back her planned retort, Lily examined the box for the first time. Her amazement grew as she lifted the small package, her doubts slipping away. It had been well over a decade since anybody had brought her a present, and her emotions threatened to overtake her. Tentatively, she reached out and stroked the fine leather box. She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen anything as elegant as the ruby red leather with its brilliant gold edging.
“It's beautiful. Nobody’s ever given me something so lovely.”
Arthur looked back at her in momentary confusion, and then his grin turned into a full-bellied laugh of delight.
“You really are priceless, my darling Lily.” With a snap of his fingers he released the catch and flicked the box open.
Lily felt her jaw drop. The box was filled with rainbows. As the sun flowed through the window and struck its contents, prisms of light darted about the room. It was only as Arthur lifted the delicate bracelet out of the box and reached for her wrist that she understood.
“Are they real?” she gasped. You didn’t give diamonds to a wife you didn’t care for.
As Arthur wrapped the bracelet lightly around her wrist, she continued to gape up at him. Could this mean what she dared to dream?
“Yes, little one. They most certainly are real. Is it to your taste?”
Lily moved back towards the window and raised the diamonds to the sun, dazzled by their play of light. She turned away, afraid her face betrayed her sentiments. She fought to contain her hopes.
“I’ve also made several inquiries into Simon’s guardianship.” He stroked her hair. “I think it is safe to say St. Aubin will not easily find any to back his case.”
Now Lily could not contain her emotions. She turned back to him feeling happiness bubble up. “Really?”
“Yes, really, my sweet. None will threaten your son.”
He put his arms to her waist and pulled her towards him. Her full breasts flattened against his chest as the quilt fell to her feet, almost unnoticed. Her sentiments ran so high she could not contain them. As he lifted her slightly towards him, she willingly opened her mouth to him. His lips skimmed over hers as his tongue licked gently at their core. She felt as if she’d swallowed the rainbows as he continued his delicious assault. She raised her own arms to run her fingers restlessly through his golden locks.
An unfamiliar tightness built within her at his touch, and she rubbed herself restlessly against him. Her breasts felt tight and full as she pressed herself more firmly against him, seeking relief. His hands moved across her buttocks, and although this normally would have left her frightened, now she only longed for more. She let her head fall back as his lips moved down her chin to her neck. A soft moan escaped her lips as he nipped at her neck before laving the slight bite to ease the sting.
A persistent pounding on her door intruded upon them.
“Your grace, are you in there? The wee lad’s been calling for his feeding for almost ten minutes now. I am surprised you can’t hear him. I knocked earlier, but you didn’t answer.”
“Yes, Nanny, I am here,” Lily yelped, as Arthur continued his assault. “Just give me a moment and you can bring Simon and another pot of tea.”
“Thank you, your grace. I’ll return in a moment with the little lord.”
She lifted her hands to feel her swollen lips. Looking over Arthur’s shoulder into the mirror, she saw herself standing there, wanton. Her lips plump and red, a trail of small bites and kisses trailed down her neck to the breast that still stood bare and proud, awaiting further attention. She turned away as bewilderment overtook her.
As if sensing her thoughts, Arthur straightened and walked away. He stood for a moment combing fingers through his tousled fair locks, and then straightened his clothing. Pulling her own negligee back into a semblance of order, she watched as he took a series of deep breaths. It almost sounded like he counted under his breath, but the numbers didn’t seem to be in order.
Taking one last breath, he turned to face her. She could see him gather control and strength.
“If it meets with your approval, Lily, I’d like to return in a while, after you’ve had time to tend your son, and bring him his gifts.”
She felt both confusion and hope rise within her. She would never understand this man. “Gifts? For Simon?”
Arthur looked askance at her questioning tone, lifting that dreaded eyebrow. She began to see that he could also use that expression for comic effect.
“Yes, do you disapprove?”
“Oh, no. I just never thought . . . well, I don’t have anything for you and . . . he’s not your son . . . I never even thought.”
Tension stiffened Arthur’s frame and his features grew still. “I thought the whole point of this exercise was that he was going to become mine as he is yours.”
“Well, yes, but . . . I never thought . . . I am sorry. Nothing would make me happier . . . you have surprised me.” She could not explain the extent of her feelings in a few ill chosen words. She felt
her cheeks split with the smile that crossed them as she reached up and brushed her mouth over his.
Their lips had barely touched when Nanny bustled in with Simon in her arms. She smiled at Lily, ignoring the tension filling the room. Lily could not mistake the vehement curse that sounded under Arthur’s breath.
“Here’s Master Simon, ready to fill his belly. He’s been letting me know just how displeased he is to be kept waiting.” Nanny turned to Arthur as if catching sight of him for the first time. “Allow me say, your grace, I am glad of your return. I was starting to fret at what must be keeping you away.”
Lily moved forward to take the baby, trying to appear nonchalant under Arthur’s watchful glance. He gave a brief nod in her direction and turned to leave.
“I’ll be back with Simon’s gifts, then.”
As soon as he departed, Lily danced about the room. She might not have all the answers, but she had not mistaken the desire in that kiss, or the tenderness in his gaze. And, he was ready to claim Simon.
The older woman continued to settle Simon as a faint smirk played at the edges of her lips. “You’ve surely got him tied up in knots. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you did it on purpose, teasing the poor man so he doesn’t know which direction to turn.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“I know you don’t. That’s what’s so delightful.”
Nanny smoothed a hand down Simon’s head as he nuzzled at Lily’s breast. “It will just take time, my chickie. Just a little time, and then you’ll understand. I don’t think you need to do anything, but act like your own sweet self while he ciphers out the difficulty.”
Lily started to question, but with a last pat on Simon’s bald pate, Nanny left the room.
Arthur opened his desk drawer, taking out the small pile of cloth-wrapped parcels. He hadn’t been certain what to get such a small child, but the shopkeeper had seemed certain that glistening silver teething rings and richly embroidered blankets were just the thing. He wondered what Lily would think of the one stitched with his crest. Would she begin to understand that he really did intend to raise Simon as his own son, in every way possible? Her kiss had led him to hope that she had finally understood all he wanted to give her.
Arthur would rather have purchased some of the fine collection of balls and the leather rocking horse with crimson bridle, but the shopkeeper seemed horrified at the thought. He still wasn’t sure that even a baby of so few months could find a silver ring a pleasure to chew, but he would bow to experience. There was always next year.
He leaned back in his chair, swinging his Hessians onto the desk. Next year he would give Simon a cricket bat. He imagined bowling to a dark haired young Simon, while a bevy of golden haired youngsters, his heir among them, ran about. He could picture Lily sitting to watch, her skirts spread about her while a dark-haired lass played with her curls.
Leaning forward again, he picked up the pile of gifts. It was time to continue showing his wife that he wasn’t an ogre who would berate her at any given opportunity. He’d much rather share kisses than hurl insults.
Kisses. Arthur’s mind boggled at the memory of her innocent passion. He forcibly dampened his hopes. He needed to proceed slowly and carefully. Only, he wasn’t sure he could. And, if at times she seemed to overflow with unfulfilled passions, he must not forget how hotly she had burned before and then frozen up when his ardor overpowered her.
Shrugging, Arthur strode off to deliver Simon’s gifts.
Lily had been right, he was two men in one. She swirled before the mirror as Gertrude draped the heavy wool and fur wrap about her. It had been delivered just after Arthur left from delivering Simon his presents.
Her eyes misted slightly at that thought. She had lacked words when he’d presented her with a blanket of the softest cashmere, the ducal crest embroidered on it in rich blue silk. Nothing else could have stated his intentions so clearly, or filled her with such warmth and hope.
Then, when she’d lifted her head to give him a thank you kiss, he’d pulled back as if her lips might sting. He’d moved to the far side of the room to watch as she’d opened the multitude of small gifts he’d brought her son.
Their son. That was what each gift said, in its own way. Arthur was ready to take Simon as his own. Yet he spent the whole time standing stiffly across the room, practically glaring at her. The duke had returned.
And, just when she managed to adapt to his poor mood, Arthur illuminated the chamber with that dazzling smile, and asked Lily to join him for a walk in the gardens after lunch. Then he sent up this extraordinary wrap to make sure she was warm enough. She would never understand him.
Lily waved Gertrude off and made her way down to meet Arthur. He stood in the doorway, wrapped tightly in his greatcoat. With a gentle smile, but no words, Arthur held out his arm and led her into the garden.
Arthur watched Lily tiptoe over the frozen path. Winter had arrived in a rush the week before, and threatened to surpass last year’s extreme freeze. They walked in silence for several moments, neither willing to break the fragile truce. It was much easier to be silent than risk another upset. Finally, as they neared the edge of the pond, Lily let forth a small cry of glee.
“Look, the fish are still moving. They’re not trapped.”
Arthur smiled at her childish joy as she released his arm to run to the edge of the pond. He walked over, beginning to explain that the golden carp would swim beneath the ice as long it didn’t freeze through. It had attracted him to the fish from the start. They could survive the harshest circumstances and glow again in the spring.
Before he could say anything, Lily lifted her skirts and stepped onto the ice, working her way towards the colored fish. Then, as he cried warning, with the harsh crack of a gunshot, the ice gave way beneath her.
Chapter Seventeen
His heart pounding, Arthur dived across the ice, eager to reach her before she could sink to the depths. He reached and stretched, only hoping the ice would not crack further.
His hands wrapped around her fingers and he pulled her towards him. Or at least he would have pulled her towards him if his boot had not caught at the stone edge of the pond, sending him sprawling across the slick surface.
He landed hard, his hip jarring and the impact rattling his body, further cracking the ice. Luckily, his weight well distributed so he did not fall through. Paying no heed to his own pain, he turned, desperate to reach her, jumping to his knees as he sought purchase on the frozen plane.
“Lily,” the cry ripped from him.
Delighted laughter wafted out in reply.
Lily stood, the broken ice almost reaching her knees, and tipped her head back as peals of laughter spread from her glistening lips. Her eyes twinkled and her cheeks lit with winter roses as she watched him struggle and slide.
Arthur quit scrabbling as he imagined the picture the two of them made: her elegant gown sodden and muddy, his breeches ripped and stained. He tried to stand again, but his heals could not grip the smooth ice and he slipped again, sending him sprawling awkwardly.
Lily doubled over with laughter as she watched him rub his bum. She stepped towards him, but was so overcome with laughter that she misjudged the edge of the ice and tripped again into the freezing, muddy water. Arthur released a veritable snort of mirth as he watched her wallow, with frozen crystals clinging to her hair. Finally, he scooted across the ice to rescue her from the knee-deep water.
“You, my dear duchess, get into more trouble than anyone I’ve ever known. You’re lucky to have me for a guardian angel.”
“Do I?” Her eyes met his.
“Do you what?”
“Have you?”
His laughter ceased. He reached forward to pull her toward him. His fingers closed about her wrist. “You’re frozen.”
She smiled up at him, her eyes shining despite the blue cast of her lips and the growing shivers that shook her frame.
“Just slightly.”
“Not slig
htly.” Arthur quickly chafed her cheeks, frightened by their sudden pale gleam. “You’re an icicle.”
“I am starting to feel a little cold,” she stuttered.
Arthur pushed his own boots through the ice and stood in the slush. Reaching down, he easily lifted her, wrapping his great coat about them both, and strode straight across the ice, without slip or slide, his powerful movements daring nature to defy him. He started towards the house and then turned to the left, moving behind the thick yew hedge. Lily now shivered in earnest, her teeth chattering loudly. She turned her face into his chest, burrowing under his heavy coat. She breathed deeply of the warmth emanating from his chest.
“Where are we going?”
It was hard to understand her words as her teeth clenched and released. Without a break in stride, Arthur answered, “There’s a small summer house just past the hedge. It’s kept stocked with brandy. I’ll start a fire in the grate. It’s much closer than the house. We need to get you warm.”
“Really, I am fine.” Her lips pursed at the mention of the brandy.
If she hadn’t been starting to turn purple, he might have believed her. “Let me be the judge of that.”
He reached the small stone building and with a quick flick of the wrist opened the door. He deposited Lily on the wide couch, his coat draped over her, and hurried to the fireplace.
“Thank God I never liked servants at my hunting lodge. It would have been quite embarrassing to make it this far and then be unable to light the fire.”
Lily gave a half-hearted smile at his jest.
“Hunting lodge?”
“It’s in Yorkshire, too much bother to pack a passel of servants up to it.”
Lily curled deeper and deeper into the thick wool of his coat, wrapping herself in his protection. He frowned; she was too chilled to even protest that he needed it more than she.
Just then, with a sudden whoosh, the logs caught. Arthur spent a fraction of a second admiring his own handiwork, before shifting back to the couch to tend his duchess.
