Love Me True

by Heather Boyd

  At first, the gentle hug shocked her. But then, after a while, being in the duchess’s embrace reminded her of her own long-gone mother and how much she missed such impulsive affection. Clarry rested her hands on the duchess’s back and the little woman rocked her as if she were a baby. “My son has the most generous heart, Clarry. Whatever misunderstanding exists between you will be forgiven once you tell him you’ve discovered where your affections truly lie. Regardless of your misguided infatuation for my eldest son, Justin has loved only you. I may not have recognized you in his poetry from the start but I know see you now. He writes about you constantly. Not ever by name, but you are his muse—his reason for coming home despite the likelihood of rejection.”

  The duchess’s words brought a lump to Clarry throat. She must be mistaken?

  Justin had never given a hint his feeling were deeper than that of any other gentleman until she’d thrown herself into the wrong bed. Had he loved her all along and she’d been blinded by Lord Ramsbury’s brilliance? Poor Justin. She’d hurt him and she’d never understood what she was doing to him.

  She’d clung to the hope for love with a man who never wanted her. Clarry dropped her head to the duchess’s shoulder as tears pricked her eyes. Had she really thought love could only be found with a titled husband? Given that she’d failed to even notice Justin’s affections before, it was obvious that she had. She was so ashamed of how she’d treated him. The love she’d hoped for her entire life, the one she read about in the pages of Justin’s journal, lay within reach after all if only she could fix her mistake.

  The duchess patted her back and then set Clarry away from her, her gaze solemn and somewhat watery too. She sniffed. “Now, about the other, more important, matter. I think, given the circumstances of this marriage, that you had better refer to me as Mother from now on. An appearance of familiarity between us will end any gossip when we return to London for the season.”

  Call the duchess Mother? Maybe she was mad or perhaps she’d fallen asleep and merely dreamed this whole encounter. Clarry shook her head to see if she could awaken. This must all be a frightening illusion.

  The duchess frowned. “Has my reputation as a dragon grown so fearsome that you cannot look beyond it? Justin has chosen to remain here at Staplehurst Hall for your benefit. I had hoped not to hear another person Your Grace me at all hours of the day and night. I had once wished for daughters too, a large family, but was blessed with only my sons.”

  When the duchess put it like that Clarry felt particularly churlish to deny her. She wouldn’t be betraying her own mother, wherever she may be, by any familiarity with her future mother-in-law. In fact, Clarry could become used to it. Perhaps she could try it on for size. “I did not mean to give offense, Mother.”

  The duchess’s nose wrinkled. “Hmm, perhaps Mama would be better. Mother sounds extremely dragon like, but we shall see how we get along and adapt if necessary. Now, since everything of importance has been settled, into bed with you young lady. I want you well rested for tomorrow’s festivities.”

  The duchess, Mama, Clarry reminded herself, pushed and bullied until Clarry was tucked tightly into bed. As she stared up at the canopy, the duchess came close with the candle and pressed a light kiss to her brow.

  Startled by the motherly peck, Clarry sat up again. “Where’s Justin?”

  The duchess brushed Clarry’s hair back over her shoulder and let out a disapproving huff. “Deep in his cups at the tavern. Tristan sent word that he is keeping watch over his brother and will see he presents himself for the ceremony tomorrow.”

  “Why is he drinking tonight? I don’t understand why he changed so suddenly today. Everything seemed fine until Lord Roderick arrived.”

  The duchess touched her cheek gently. “From what I understand, Lord Roderick arrived at the swimming hole with my eldest son. And since Justin still thinks you favor his brother, I am sure your agile mind can understand his anxiety. Men are such fragile creatures and so easy to offend if their desirability is called into question. I suggest you explain your change of heart as soon as you can. Before the wedding, if at all possible. I’d much rather a joyous ceremony than a solemn one. Think about it before morning comes.”

  Clarry covered her face to hide her embarrassment. “Do you know everything?”

  The duchess touched her head. “Not everything at first, but eventually, yes. One of the advantages of my position.”

  She let herself out and Clarry lay back on her pillows. Justin had loved her all along and she’d been breaking his heart without knowing it. Of course she cared for him now. He’d been so kind. But love? Clarry curled into a ball on her side to consider the matter. Despite the circumstances, he’d had done his best to protect her—even from his mother’s earlier fussing. And he did make her feel heavenly. His kisses, his hands, his skills in this very bed had turned her ideas of making love on its head.

  Would he still lie with her and cuddle her close as he had done so often these last days when they were older? She did love that. Would any man want to hold her in his arms all night if he doubted he was loved in return?

  The thought of lying in this bed with another repulsed her. In fact, now that she considered the matter, she’d be horrified to let Lord Ramsbury see her as Justin had—naked and breathless after his lovemaking. But if the one you love made you that way shouldn’t that be acceptable? Did that mean she didn’t love Lord Ramsbury, not even a little, anymore? Had she loved him at all, or just loved the idea of being married?

  Clarry rolled onto her back and thumped the mattress with both fists. If Justin were here she could talk to him and perhaps they could both sort out this mess. But tonight he was drinking to soothe his bruised pride, and the heart she’d apparently wounded. An effort that might not be necessary at all if she did in fact love him as the duchess claimed. But was it possible to fall completely in love in just three days?

  CHAPTER TEN

  The heavy ivory silk gown slid up Clarry’s arms and settled into place as if made for her. While the duchess’s maid circled behind her back to tie the laces firmly, Clarry stared into the mirror and tried to control her nervousness. She would marry today, at eleven in the duchess’s drawing room before the lingering guests from Lord Ramsbury’s recent ceremony. There had been half a dozen or so ensconced about the Hall yet other than brief introductions at dinner, Justin and the duchess had kept Clarry well away from them.

  Well, she would marry today if Justin did, in fact, return to the hall. His bedchamber had been painfully quiet this morning.

  “Drop you hand, Clarry. Enough of that.”

  Guiltily, Clarry forced her nails down and away from her mouth. She was so nervous that Justin wouldn’t arrive for the ceremony that she’d resumed a childish habit she’d thought long forgotten. The duchess, Mama, had scolded her twice already since she’d risen from bed. To distract herself, Clarry fingered the seed pearls adorning her décolleté. The stunning gown had transformed her from merely pretty to a princess in wait for her prince. She’d hardly recognized herself. “I cannot thank you enough for the gown, Mama. I never imagined I’d wear something so fine.”

  The duchess fussed with the sleeves. “A bride deserves something pretty on her wedding day. Your mother would have taken care of the matter beautifully. Jane has excellent taste.”

  Clarry frowned at the mention of her mother’s name. She’d stopped thinking about her a long time ago except occasionally. Her abandonment still hurt, even if she’d come to realize that staying with her father would have crushed her spirit completely.

  “Now, I have a few matters to take care of before the ceremony—”

  “Such as ensure Justin comes,” Clarry whispered.

  The duchess slipped an arm around her shoulders and squeezed. “Tristan says that he’s awake and reeling from a dreadful head, but will be delivered on time as promised. I probably shouldn’t pass this along but Tristan had to dump a bucket of cold water over Justin’s head to wake him. It’
s been an eventful morning at the dower house.”

  Poor Justin. Of all the indignities to suffer through on his wedding day. She’d have to make it up to him tonight. She would have him go to sleep a happier man than he’d awoken. The anticipation curled her lips into a wide smile. Beside her, the duchess chuckled then hurried away.

  Tonight she would be Justin’s wife until death parted them. Clarry curled her hand over her belly as excitement filled her. She would be Justin’s. She would wake beside him sometimes, make love to him as often as she could tempt him, and hope he’d come to trust her enough to read his beautiful poetry to her before he showed anyone else. But she had to tell him she knew about that. She had to return the journal.

  “Hello beautiful,” a male voice drawled.

  Clarry spun about, startled out of her daydreaming.

  Lord Roderick lounged against the doorway, leering at her. “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced. Lord Roderick at your service, Miss Wheaton. I’m a very good friend of your future husband.”

  “I’ve heard of you, Lord Roderick.”

  He pushed off the wall. “Please, call me, Roddy. All my close acquaintances do.” Lord Roderick paced closer and peered about the room. “And we are going to become quite close, my dear. As close as two people can be in fact.”

  He’d come to collect on the wager. Although Clarry’s stomach tumbled over, she had to hide that he intimidated her. She knew what he wanted. The journal or, if he didn’t get that, he planned to lie with her. She couldn’t give him Justin’s journal and she certainly wouldn’t lie with him. He disgusted her.

  Rather than play cat and mouse, Clarry decided to attack the situation head on. He thought himself irresistible. She’d prove otherwise. “I take it you’ve come to claim your winnings, Lord Roderick.”

  The man stopped moving. His gaze raked her from head to foot, setting her resolve on its edge. She could do this. She could dissuade him from claiming the bet.

  A slow smile lit his face. “You know of the bet already don’t you, my dear?”

  “Yes.” Clarry clenched her hands together, very aware the gesture conveyed her distress. But she had to do something with them other than hitch up her skirts and bolt from the chamber. She wouldn’t become a plaything to Justin’s questionable acquaintance.

  Lord Roderick smiled wolfishly. “Well now. That will make life much simpler. Hand over the journal or pay the piper his due.”

  Clarry licked her lips. “The journal is lost, I’m told. I certainly don’t have it.” Actually the journal was six feet away from where she stood, tucked into its usual spot under a pillow. It called to her. She fixed her gaze on the man before her instead.

  Lord Roderick sucked in a deep breath. “Well then, I imagine you’ve reconciled yourself to the alternative. Let’s have at it then.”

  He took a step forward but stopped when Clarry flung up her hand. At least he could be stopped. She couldn’t deal with an animal. “What guarantees are you prepared to offer me in return?”

  “Guarantees?” He flung his head back and laughed. “I’ve never had a woman doubt my prowess before. Don’t worry, little mouse, you’ll wish to be marrying me by the end and not Justin.”

  Clarry could not believe that would be true. She didn’t find this man remotely pleasing. Not the way Justin was. “I imagine our opinions might differ on that subject since I appear to have no say in this debauching. But do you simply expect me to lie still while you rob me of my very life?”

  “Woman, I’m not planning on killing you. Merely taking my fun in your arms for a romp. In fact, I can quite see why Justin was so out of sorts last night. Must be quite a strain, resisting taking you to his bed.”

  Relief coursed through Clarry. Justin hadn’t told his friend exactly why they were to marry so swiftly. Lord Roderick appeared to have no idea Justin had bedded her either. But how could that work to her advantage if he thought her pure?

  A sudden thought popped into her head. “What if you’re diseased?”

  Lord Roderick drew back as if she’d slapped him. “I’ve not got the bloody pox, woman. I’m not that bad a friend.”

  Not much of a friend at all to want to seduce a man’s future wife. But she had to keep him off balance. “Really? Yet you intend to force me into that bed.”

  When she waved her arm in that direction, his eyes lit with anticipation. Curses. She’d lost ground again.

  “You’re not his wife yet. And he agreed to the bet. My honor demands satisfaction.”

  Clarry circled him, hoping her movements appeared the result of nervousness not imminent flight. “Well, my honor demands proof that you are as healthy as a horse.”

  He took another step back. “I beg your pardon.”

  Honestly, anyone watching them must think them inventing some new dance. But the threat to her virtue was very real. She would not let this man touch her. The bedchamber door lay evenly between them now. She’d have to move quickly and surprise him to outdistance his longer legs if she tried to escape. “You heard me. I want proof that you are as free of illness. It is my intention to give Justin a son and I cannot do that if you disease me.”

  Lord Roderick scratched at his jaw. “The only way to do that, my dear, is to be on intimate terms.” His smile widened again. “On the bed with you then.”

  “I may be young and innocent, but I’m not so foolish as to fall for that.” And not such a fool as to move away from the door. “Proof can be provided right here.” She cocked her head to the side. “I’m waiting.”

  Eventually, Lord Roderick caught her meaning and a wicked smile crossed his face. She steeled herself as his hand reached for the buttons of his trousers. As his shirt lifted and disappeared under his waistcoat, Clarry held her breath. She let it go with a whoosh when Lord Roderick dropped his trousers suddenly, exposing himself to the light.

  He stood still and let her look her fill.

  She gaped. “That’s it?” Goodness! Justin was much better proportioned when aroused.

  His hands dropped from his hips. “I beg your pardon?”

  Clarry took a step closer. “Really? Is that all you’re going to put in me. Honestly, I thought you must have had a formidable staff to have made such a bet. How terribly mundane.” Her eyes strayed and caught on a tattoo etched into his upper right thigh. Despite her curiosity, Clarry chuckled to grind insult deeper.

  Lord Roderick’s face heated. “How dare you?” Although the hissed words sounded as gruff as her father when he had his dander up, his stance hinted at discomfort. He covered his groin with his hands.

  Now she might just be winning. Clarry shook her head. “That’s like a pot calling the kettle black, isn’t it?” When Lord Roddy made no move to continue Clarry cleared her throat. “The terms of the bet have been met, Lord Roderick. This is as intimate as we will ever be. I am aware of your proportions, small as they are. I believe you may leave me now.”

  When he didn’t move, she glanced down at his thigh. “Is that a tattoo of a woman’s name?”

  Lord Roderick quickly tugged his trousers up over his hips. “Who are you to gaze upon a naked man and not even flinch?”

  “I am Lord Justin’s already, my lord.” She smiled at how good that felt to say aloud. “Anything else offered is simply not enough to tempt me. We will not speak of this matter again, but I will not hesitate to spread the intelligence that you have a woman’s name tattooed on your skin if word of our meeting ever spreads. Beth. Would that be the missing Lady Elizabeth by any chance?” I do hope we understand each other, my lord?”

  Lord Roderick scowled as he finished dressing. “That we do.”

  When the door slammed behind his back, Clarry sagged into a chair. Goodness that had been dreadful. Necessary, but dreadful. She would not have that scoundrel laughing at her for years to come whenever they met. She hoped he’d avoid her like the plague. Clarry took another deep breath.

  “That was very well played,” the duchess said as she clapped her ha
nds.

  Oh no, the duchess. Clarry turned to face her future mother-in-law. “You heard?”

  “Heard and saw it all. What there was, of course. Risky, but well played. I cannot imagine Lord Roderick ever approaching you with anything but the utmost respect from now on.”

  Clarry gulped. “I couldn’t give him Justin’s journal.”

  The duchess grinned. “Because you love my son.”

  “I couldn’t lie with him either.”

  “Because you love my son and couldn’t bear another to touch you as he does.”

  The duchess’s repetitions could get on her nerves quite easily. Clarry frowned. Did she really love Justin after only four days? With the proof of her own actions before her, Clarry conceded that she did feel more for him than she originally imagined possible.

  The duchess patted her clenched fingers. “You do not need to admit to such feelings to me, but you should admit them to yourself and to Justin that you do not love his brother. Not every woman knows there own heart in the beginning—or at the end for that matter. Marriage is a painful experience when you are plagued with doubts.”

  Puzzled by the duchess’s last comment, Clarry asked a question that had troubled her for some time. “Do you not love the duke?”

  The duchess rocked back on her heels, lips pressed tight together.

  “Forgive me. That was an inexcusable question to ask you.”

  The duchess closed her eyes. “Our marriage was arranged by our families. I had a large dowry and the dukedom had large debts.”

  Clarry closed the gap between them and caught the duchess’s cold fingers in hers. “I’m sorry. That must have been an uncomfortable beginning.”

  “Oh, being a duchess has its perks. I get to have my way somewhat more often than most wives.” A smile tugged her lips. “Now, enough of my problems, I have a surprise visitor for you.”

  The duchess rushed off while Clarry tried to stem the ache from the words the duchess hadn’t uttered. What a horror it would be to never love or feel comfortable with the man you married. To never feel peace with the life you had to live.