by Matilda Hart
“Feign an illness, claim it is that time of the month...anything, until I can confront him and get the truth from him.”
He took her mouth again as he gave her instructions, apparently unable to resist kissing her. And she was glad of it, because he had started a fire in her that she wanted only him to quench. He finally released her lips again after one last suck, and then he put her from him and walked away, leaving her to collapse back into the chair from which he had pulled her earlier.
“I have something for you,” he said, turning back to face her. “I bought it for you as a gift for your birthday, which is January first, is it not?”
Lavinia gasped, realizing at last that this man before her was indeed her husband...and that she was in a lot of trouble, because she had committed bigamy, even if she hadn’t known it. There was no other way that he could have known her birthday unless he was who he said he was. No one outside her family knew her birthday.
“Yes, it is,” she said faintly. She stared at him for a moment, then asked,
“What will you do, Your...Robert?”
“I will confront your husband. He must know more than he has told you, and I will demand to know it also. The rest will depend on what he tells me.”
He walked back over to stand before her, and held out a little package neatly wrapped and beribboned. She took it with trembling hands, and when he gently urged her to do so, she opened it, revealing a delicately beautiful comb for her hair. It was festooned with jewels, and it took her breath away.
“Oh my...it is beautiful!” she whispered. “I...what will I tell William about this?”
“You will tell him it was a gift to you for your beautiful singing.” His voice was hard, though his eyes as he looked at her were soft with love. “Now, we must get you home.”
He walked to the door door and pulled the bell to summon the butler, who appeared as if by magic a moment later.
“Pratt, have the carriage brought round for Mrs. Thacker.”
And when the butler departed to do his bidding, he stole another deep kiss from her lips before helping her into her overcoat, and escorting her to the imposing front door. Before he helped her into the carriage, he said,
“Please tell your husband to expect me to call on him tomorrow. And you will need to be there with him.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” she said demurely, knowing she dare not expose the true nature of their relationship until Robert had sorted things out.
She had always been a discreet woman, and she did not enjoy attention as some did. When he nodded curtly at her, she smiled and settled her back against the seat when he handed her into the carriage.
“Thank you, Your Grace,” she said.
He shut the door, closing her in with her thoughts, and the ache in her loins that had diminished but not dissipated. She prayed, as they rode along, that the Duke and her husband would fix things soon, because she was not used to feeling so inflamed, and she did not know if she would be as able to resist him the next time he made such advances to her as he had done earlier. She could not hide the smile that curved her lips, however, and was glad she was alone in the conveyance.
Chapter 3 — The Revelation
Robert inhaled deeply as he waited for the innkeeper to make his appearance. He had slept fitfully the night before, and was not in the best humor. Added to his unabating lust for his newly-found wife was his almost overwhelming rage at the man who had kept him from her. He knew he was being somewhat irrational, as it might be that the man knew nothing of what had happened with her. But he couldn’t credit that, and he was impatient to hear what the innkeeper had to say for himself.
A sound made him turn his head, and he held his breath as Lavinia walked in with the man who also claimed her as wife. She was wearing a plain morning dress of pale blue, demure in cut and style, but all he could see was the way her lush breasts invited his eyes, and the way her smooth skin begged for his touch. He looked away, closing his eyes for a second and calming his breathing. Then he faced them again, and said, as they all sat down,
“Mr. Thacker, I must ask you to give me the full story of your meeting with your...with Mrs. Thacker.” He couldn’t bring himself to say the word ‘wife’. It stuck in his throat.
William Thacker was a burly man, with a shock of brown hair on his head that seemed to snake down the sides of his face and end a few inches below his chin. He looked startled by the question, but did not show any other emotion. Robert watched him closely as he began to speak.
“I must ask why this is 0f any interest to you, Your Grace,” he said bluntly, clearly not intimidated by Robert’s title or power.
“It has come to my attention that the woman you are married to has another husband before you, one who is very much alive, and who was led to believe she had been killed. What do you say to that, sir?”
His tone was sharp. He was not used to being defied, and especially not by people below his station. He had been second in command in his regiment, and was used to giving orders and having them followed without question. This man was not endearing himself to him, and as he was already inclined to dealing harshly with him, the man needed to remember who he was talking to.
“I say that that is a pack of lies, Your Grace!” the innkeeper said, clearly angry. “Where did you hear such filthy rumors?”
Robert adjusted his body in the chair, crossing one leg over the other as though he were at ease, although his whole body was on alert, and he would much prefer to be pacing, to work off the energy building inside him.
“I did not so much hear them, sir, as see the evidence of them for myself,” he said, watching the confused look that crossed the other man’s face. He also saw the beginning of fear, and he pounced on that.
“Is there something you might know that would help to disprove my observations?”
The innkeeper was clearly debating with himself, and Robert waited, hoping that he would get answers to his questions before too much longer.
“I’m sure I don’t know how I could help with that, Your Grace,” he answered huffily. “I met my wife at her family’s home when I was there on a visit a year ago. Her father and I made an arrangement, and she was not averse to it. Our marriage is legal. There can be no question of it.”
“Did you know that she had been in an accident?” Robert asked. “That they had been going to visit her family when the vehicle they were in was ambushed by highwaymen? That her husband was told that she had been defiled and murdered, and evidence provided to support those claims? Did you know that she now does not recognize him, though he knows very well who she is to him?”
He didn’t respond immediately, but the look on his face told Robert that he understood very clearly what he was being told.
“Your Grace…” he began uncertainly, “am I to understand, sir, that you are accusing me of bigamy?” His voice was thready with fear and anger and confusion.
“Perhaps you were unaware of it, sir, in which case I am sure the law will be more than lenient with you. I myself will put in a good word for you,” Robert assured him, hoping he would be able to do so if the man was innocent in the affair. “But I will need to be convinced that you had no hand in the disappearance of the woman who can be proven to be another man’s wife.”
William Thacker gulped, inhaling deeply and gripping his hands tightly together.
“I swear upon my honor, Your Grace, that I have no knowledge of my...of Lavinia before we first met.”
“What do you know of the circumstances of her accident?” Robert asked.
“Only what her family told me. She had been visiting a friend in the village -- she is from Northbury -- and was returning home when the coach she was riding in was set upon by bandits and she was hurt in the fray. The man who found her took her home and his wife tended to her until she was well enough. Then they heard of the missing woman and took her to Northbury where her family came to claim her.”
He paused...it was clear that the story was painf
ul to recall. Robert grit his teeth, listening to the harrowing tale of his wife’s troubles.
“She did not remember anything about what happened before she awoke, and only after four months or so did she recall her family. That was a gladsome time for them, but everything else was still dark.” He turned to look at her, his smile sad, before he continued. “She still does not recall anything. Then I met her, and as her parents were anxious for her to be married, and I was in want of a wife, we made an agreement. Lavinia was not averse to it, and as we liked each other well enough, the marriage was contracted.”
Robert bit the inside of his cheeks to keep from howling in rage. Inhaling slowly, calming himself, he asked, “Who performed the ceremony?”
“The vicar, Your Grace,” William replied.
Robert stood up. He could no longer keep his seat, or adopt an air of nonchalance. This was a right royal mess, and he had no idea how he would unravel the tangled circumstances of his and Lavinia’s life. He knew one thing only...she was his, and no one, not even an innocent bystander like William Thacker, could have what was rightfully his. He cursed himself inwardly for having made such a mess of everything. He should have married Lavinia after they visited her parents, not stolen away with her to Gretna Green. The plan had been to make the marriage more official once he had met with her parents, whose consent she had not needed, being even then a woman of three and twenty.
He had wanted to make her his before anyone, particularly his own father, could stop him from doing what he knew in his heart was the right thing to do. He had refused to marry a society woman for whom he felt nothing, and his father’s actions and words had made it increasingly clear that he had to act soon, or find himself pressed into servitude to a woman he did not care for. And though he loved the company of women, and had had his sport with a few, he wanted to marry someone he loved. And he loved Lavinia, and had from the first moment he had seen her.
That accident had made it so that her parents did not know him, and therefore could not tell him she was still alive. He would have given up his commission had he known that she had not died. And someone had lied to his father, and to him, making it appear that she had died. But why? And who would do such a heinous thing? There was much he had to discover, but he must first begin by telling the man sitting before him the truth about the woman he had married. Then they had to find the priest, who would dissolve the union, without a marks against either of their souls. And then, he would find the ones responsible for his suffering, and make them pay. Turning to the couple sitting before him, he began.
“I must be as frank with you, Mr. Thacker, as you have been with me. And what I have to say will no doubt be painful for you to hear, but there is no cure for it, I’m afraid.”
By the time he had finished telling the tale, William Thacker sat like a stone, and Robert felt a moment of pity for the man. He may not love Lavinia, but he was fond of her, and at heart he was a good man who knew that what had happened could have a damaging effect on her reputation. And he must also realize that the comforts he had found in her were no longer to be his. Robert shut down those thoughts at once, not able to bear the thought of his wife opening her body to another. He watched as the man turned to the woman, sitting as still as he was, her eyes downcast.
“Lavinia,” he said, “I am deeply ashamed of what I have done to you, my dear.”
“William, it was not your fault,” she replied, her eyes shining with tears. “You have been nothing but kind to me.”
The innkeeper turned to Robert, who saw plainly in his eyes, the pain and distress that he had inflicted on the man.
“Your Grace, I have also wronged you, though I did not know it till now. I will do whatever you desire to make amends.”
Robert knew he could not ask for more, and he wished that there had been some other way of restoring his wife to his arms. He had always been a man of compassion, except when he was riled, or had just cause to be otherwise. Here was no just cause for any other emotion than a deep regret. Sighing, he sat down again, and discussed his plans for restoring Lavinia to his home, and finding the miscreants who had stolen her from him. With plans in place, the Duke took himself off, though he wished he could have taken proper leave of his wife, by kissing her in the way he had wanted to since she had first walked in. He knew, however, that it would have been in poor taste, and a slap in the face of a man who did not need any more pain. The next phase of his plan would now be set in motion.
Chapter 4 — Homecoming
Lavinia sat quietly in the cart as William packed her things. They had barely spoken a word since the Duke had left, and she wished she knew what he was thinking. Their first stop would be the vicarage, and after that, he would take her home to her family, and leave her there. She supposed it had been a good thing that they had not had a grand ceremony, getting married quietly in the vicarage with the minister’s wife as the only witness to their union. She hoped they could be counted on to be discreet, as the last thing she wanted for the man who had cared for her these last eight months was public humiliation.
The trunk having been packed during the night, so no one would wonder why a visit home should require all her worldly goods, and the smaller traveling bags having at last all been packed, William climbed aboard, and set the wagon going. The story given to the cook and maid was that she was going to visit her family to tend to a sick relative, and they did not know when she would return. William had asked his brother to mind the inn until his return in two days. Now they drove along to the vicarage, and Lavinia felt the silence like a weight on her heart.
“William, I am sorry,” she said in a small voice. “I have brought only shame and calamity upon you.”
He did not immediately reply, and her heart sank. Despite his words to her the day before, he was indeed quite angry, it seemed, enough so that he could not speak to her. She swallowed the tears of shame that rose in her eyes. She had made a decision which had led to events she could not have foreseen, but if she had insisted that Robert meet her family before they married, none of this would now be happening, and she would not have ruined the life of a man who didn’t not deserve it.
“Your only fault was in keeping your marriage a secret from your family, Lavinia,” he said at last, his tone gentle. “You have done me no wrong. I did you wrong. I am too old for you, and should have left you to find a younger man to marry. But you are a beauty, and I wanted to be able to show you off to all the people who thought I would never have a woman of my own.”
He grew silent again, while she absorbed his confession. They had never spoken much of personal things, of feelings and dreams and desires. She had not known that he saw her as more than a means to make more money for the inn, and a hostess for his guests. He had not been unkind, but he had not been loving, either. He had only been practical, as he was being now. She supposed that that was how he had approached their intimate relations, and most likely why he had not often sought them with her. They did not arouse in him the fever that she felt for a man she did not remember, but whose very essence called out to hers. They had merely been an itch that he scratched, though thankfully not one he had often felt the need to relieve.
The vicar was available to speak with them, and once he understood the reason for their visit, he asked his wife to prepare refreshments for them, and went into his study to begin the work that would get their marriage annulled. He gave them sage counsel, prayed with them, and enjoined them to make amends for their unintended transgressions by the way they lived their lives from thence on. He was kind and understanding, and assured them that their affairs would continue to be held in the strictest confidence. He advised them to prepare a better explanation of events, especially once Lavinia took up residence in Sandcross Abbey as the new Duchess.
The rest of the day passed with Lavinia fretting about how she would show her face in Tillygrove again, and about how she would bear her family’s disappointment in her poor decisions that had landed her in this mess. By
the time the cart pulled up before her home, she was a mass of nerves, and could barely make it off the cart, even with William’s steadying hand. he squeezed her hand encouragingly.
“Courage, Lavinia,” he said quietly. “Your family will forgive you. Look on the bright side. You are now a Duchess. That will make your story easier to hear, I’m sure.”
She turned to look at the man she had never felt anything more for than mild affection and smiled wanly.
“Thank you, William.”
Inside, her mother was home, as was her youngest sibling, her brother John, who ran to meet her with a wide smile on his face.
“Sister, you have come home!”
He threw his arms around her, and she hugged him tightly, glad suddenly of this small evidence of love. She felt as though she needed every support that she could have for the ordeal ahead. Her mother hugged her as tightly, and Lavinia avoided the question in her eyes, turning to say to her brother,
“Go and help William with the things, John.”
