Sandra Owens

by The Letter

  “My lady, it is my pleasure to introduce you to Her Grace, the Duchess of Aubrey.” He indicated the tall woman with auburn hair and brilliant green eyes.

  Diana curtsied. “Your Grace, welcome to my home.”

  “And this lovely lady,” he said of the woman with beautiful moonlight pale hair, “is the Marchioness of Derebourne.”

  “My lady, a pleasure to meet you.” Diana curtsied again.

  “Your Grace, Lady Derebourne, allow me to introduce you to Lady Brantley.”

  Michael exchanged pleasantries with them and then took his leave. Diana wished he could stay, but was grateful he had come in to introduce them. She stood frozen, all her fears of returning to society crashing down on her. The duchess raised a brow, and Diana gave a burst of nervous laughter. She clapped a hand over her mouth. God, they must think she was born in a barn. “I’m sorry, Your Grace, my lady. Once, I had manners, but I seem to have lost them. Please, have a seat while I ring for tea.”

  An hour later, beyond the time of a polite visit, Diana held her sides as Katie, Her Grace having insisted Diana address her as a friend, told the story of her wedding day and the tenants His Grace had invited to witness their marriage.

  “To this day, they still speak of it in awe. I doubt there is another duke and duchess in the realm whose only wedding guests were their tenants and servants. Made me feel quite honored, actually.”

  Claire, as the marchioness had also asked Diana address her, gave the duchess a fond look. “I have heard this story before, and I almost laughed myself off the sofa the first time I heard it.”

  Diana hoped these women truly meant to be her friends and this visit was not something they were doing only as a favor to Michael. She was sorry when she heard male voices in the hallway. “I believe I hear the men coming this way.”

  The drawing room door opened and Smedley, obviously having the grandest day of his life, bowed, his nose almost touching the floor. “Your Grace, my ladies, His Grace, the Duke of Aubrey, and my lords, the Marquess of Derebourne, and the Earl of Daventry.”

  “I wonder at the necessity of announcing me in my own home, Smedley,” Michael said with laughter in his voice. He came and stood next to her. His Grace pushed himself into the space on the sofa next to his wife, took her hand and placed it on his knee. The marquess chose a chair close to his marchioness and gave her a wicked smile.

  Claire swatted her hand in her husband’s direction. “Behave yourself, Derebourne.”

  “You expect too much from him,” His Grace commented.

  The marchioness sighed. “I know, but one can always hope.”

  “Leave Derebourne alone. I like him just the way he is. He is almost as amusing as his silly horse,” Katie said.

  His Grace snorted. “His horse is an idiot.”

  “Oh ho, wait until I tell Mischief what you called him. See if he gives you any more hugs,” Derebourne said.

  The duke looked heavenward. “There is a God.”

  Diana sat back and listened to the banter passing between the two couples. It was obvious they were close friends, and she liked them very much. Lord Derebourne was irreverent, and kept them laughing. He was a beautiful man with his golden hair and sky blue eyes, which were more often than not, trained on his wife.

  The duke was reserved, and the air of danger surrounding him intimidated her a little, but she enjoyed the way he seemed to like baiting Lord Derebourne. However, she wouldn’t want him for an enemy. What saved her from being afraid of him was the way his eyes turned soft when he looked at his duchess.

  Diana pinched herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. A month ago, she had been trying to think of a new way to prepare a potato and now here she was entertaining a duke, a marquess, and their wives. The idea of it seemed so absurd, a little burst of laughter escaped her. Fortunately, Derebourne made a comment that caused everyone to laugh, so she avoided embarrassing herself. The afternoon ended with the promise of an invitation to dinner and perhaps a night out to the theater.

  “Did you like the ladies?” Michael asked after they left.

  “Oh, yes. I had a wonderful visit. Do you think Her Grace and Lady Derebourne meant their offer of friendship?”

  He took her hand and led her to the sofa. “I assure you, they would not have offered if they didn’t mean it. Aubrey is very protective of his duchess, and if he had a hint she didn’t like you, he would have walked her right out the door, manners be damned.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me. He seems a formidable man. I was thinking while he was here that I would not want him for an enemy.”

  “Very true, but I don’t wish to speak of His Grace.” He turned to face her. “I’ve yet to tell you how lovely you look today.”

  “Thank you, kind sir.”

  His gaze lowered to her lips. “I’m going to kiss you now.”

  She shouldn’t allow it, but as his mouth touched hers, the thought vanished. She had never been able to resist his kisses when they were courting, still could not. He nipped on her bottom lip. She opened her mouth, and his tongue slipped inside, exploring and tasting. His hand cradled her neck, the pads of his fingers pressed against her skin. She placed her palm on the side of his face. He groaned, and his tongue left her mouth. He trailed kisses across her cheek, to her neck, then finding her earlobe and sucking it into his mouth. She shivered as he moved his hand over her skin, down to the curve of her breast and gently stroked her. Her heart pumped a rush of hot blood through her and she almost said please. That she came so close to pleading brought her back to awareness.

  “Stop. Michael, please stop.”

  He lifted his head and looked at her. “Are you sure?”

  No, it wasn’t what she wanted, but this could only lead to one thing and that she couldn’t allow. She lowered her hand to her lap and nodded.

  He took a deep breath, and then kissed her one last time before leaning his head against the back of the sofa. “Today, you smell like violets and taste like honey and spices. I smell you, I taste you, and all I can think is how desperately I want you.”

  He stood and pulled her up. Taking her hand, he pressed it over his erection. “Listen. This is what you do to me, Diana. Don’t ever doubt your power over me.”

  He freely admitted she had power over him, something Leo had taught her a man would never allow. Because Michael could not only acknowledge it, but that he would allow such a thing was an amazing gift. He was making it difficult to keep from falling in love with him again. Somehow, she had to find the strength to keep the wall around her heart in place. Wanting what was out of her reach would only lead to more heartbreak.

  Yet, what did he want from her? A horrifying thought occurred to her. Why hadn’t she considered this before? It had to be the reason for the kisses, the touches. She was so stupid.

  “I won’t be your mistress.” She turned to leave, but he grabbed her arm, stopping her.

  “What the devil are you talking about?”

  There was anger in his eyes, and she instinctively stepped back.

  “Stop it. You insult me when you do that. What do I have to do to prove I won’t hurt you? Ever. I had hoped you understood that by now.”

  “I’m sorry. I do know it.” She was embarrassed, and regretted offending him. She was also disappointed in him. “May I go now?”

  “For the love of God, Diana, you don’t need my permission to leave a room. I would ask, however, that you explain your earlier comment before you go.”

  She should have kept her mouth shut. What if she was wrong? Yet, what else could he want from her? Although, if he ever saw her body, he wouldn’t even want her as his mistress.

  He crossed his arms over his chest and rocked back on his heels. “An explanation sometime today would be appreciated, my lady.”

  “Why have you never married?”

  ****

  What the devil did that have to do with her declaration? Once again, she had that surprised look on her face. He hoped the unexpect
ed would always flow from her mouth. She vastly entertained him.

  Now the question was out, however, she regarded him expectantly. What did she hope to hear?

  He could tell her he was hers, always had been, always would be. He could say it was because he had never found another her. Would she believe him if he told her he loved her, that without her his life held no meaning?

  Having this conversation now was not in his plan. He was to court her, win her heart and then he would kneel at her feet and offer his love, his devotion, his name. Then they would marry, and the next man who tried to put asunder what God had joined together would get a sword through his heart. It was a good plan.

  “An answer sometime today would be nice, my lord.”

  So she thought to throw a stick in the wheel and disrupt the smooth ride he had scheduled. If he allowed it, she would detour them off onto bumpy roads. He humphed. We will just see about that.

  “So, you want to be my mistress? I hadn’t considered it, but you have my interest.” With his gaze focused on her, he walked toward her, keeping his steps slow.

  Her eyes widened. “You hadn’t considered it?”

  He suppressed a smile at the squeak in her voice, walked behind her and stopped. She swiveled to face him.

  He shrugged. “I wish I had, but no. I must thank you for putting the idea in my head.”

  “I didn’t…did I?”

  “I’m afraid so.” He was undoubtedly having too much fun. Perhaps he could learn to like traveling uncharted roads and detours that led to adventures. Stepping forward, he trailed the back of his hand over the swell of her breasts. “Will you?”

  She slapped his hand away. “Stop that.”

  “Why? You seem to like it if the gooseflesh on your chest is any indication.”

  “Well, I don’t.”

  He tsked. “What a little liar you are, my dear. You still haven’t answered my question.” Clasping his hands behind his back, he tilted his head and studied her. “By the way your brows are furrowed, I am thinking you are undecided, or else you are trying to remember what I asked. If it is the former, I would be more than agreeable to kissing a yes out of you. If it is the latter, then I should kiss you regardless, though I doubt it will be of help to your memory.”

  He looked at the ceiling and considered. Lowering his gaze back to hers, he smiled. “No, there is no doubt about it because I would kiss you senseless, and you wouldn’t remember your name, much less my question. Which reminds me, will you?”

  She stepped back and sank onto the sofa. “I no longer have any notion of what we are speaking.”

  “Then I shall speak plainly.” He pulled a chair up, sat in front of her, their knees touching, and took her hands in his. “Will you be my mistress?”

  She gave him an irritated look. “Don’t be absurd.”

  “I take it that is a no?”

  A small laugh escaped, and she bit down on her lower lip. She glanced away. “Yes, that is a no. I don’t know why you would ask it of me.”

  It was the sadness in her eyes that made him throw his plan out the window. With his heart pounding at his gamble, he put his cards on the table. “Truthfully, I do not want you as my mistress, but I do want you for my wife.” He knelt in front of her. “Will you marry me, Diana?” She tried to pull her hands away, but he held tight.

  “No, I will not marry you. No. No, Michael, how could you think I would?”

  “Because, from the first time we met, there has been something between us that has never gone away. I know you feel it, too. Then there is Jamie. He is my son, and I want to be a father to him. I can’t do that from a distance.” And because I love you.

  If he thought it would make a difference, he would have told her, but what if she could not find her way to loving him again? He would have bared his heart, and then she would feel pressed to return the sentiment, or worse, pity him.

  “I thought you would be willing to provide us with a small cottage somewhere. You know you can visit him anytime you wish. I thought you cared enough to do that.”

  “I more than care, Diana, but you need only understand this. You and Jamie belong to me.”

  She jerked her hands from his. “I don’t belong to anyone, my lord.”

  He was quickly losing ground. It was time to turn the tables. “Why do you prefer to live out your days in a cottage in God knows where? What happens when Jamie leaves you? Someday he will, you know. Why would you choose spending your nights alone instead of in my bed?”

  She wrapped her arms around her waist and rocked forward, and then back. “I can’t talk about it.”

  Ah, they were getting to the heart of it. “Why is that? Is there a physical reason? By that, I mean, are you physically incapable of having relations? Although if you say yes, I will not believe you considering our night at Wyburne.”

  She blushed prettily, her eyes lowered to her lap. “No.”

  “Then is it me? Do you find me unappealing?”

  His question brought an adorable little snort. “Hardly.”

  “Well, that is good to know. Do you think I might find you unappealing?”

  Silence.

  He waited.

  She rocked faster and tears fell down her cheeks.

  “I won’t,” he said softly.

  “You will. You don’t know and I don’t think I could bear it if you did.” Without another word, she walked out.

  Oh, but he did. His bastard of a cousin had marked her, convinced her she was repulsive, and done his utmost to deprive her of ever being happy. For his own gratification, he was going to dig up Leo’s grave and desecrate it in every way he could conceive. Even then, he wouldn’t find the satisfaction he craved on her behalf.

  Was she too damaged to ever be well again? Could he spend his life with her and never engage in intimate relations? One way or another he was going to marry her, and he would honor his wedding vows. It might well kill him, but he would learn to live like a monk if he must.

  Well, that hadn’t gone as well as he’d hoped. A lesson learned. Never again would he toss one of his plans away.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Diana rang for Fanny. She needed fresh air, wanted the sun on her face. If Michael had made up his mind to marry her, there would be no stopping him. She’d told him she wouldn’t go to Wyburne, didn’t want to go to London, and wouldn’t stay in this chamber. She might as well have beaten her head against a brick wall. If she had understood why he gave her this room, she would have moved herself. Far away from London would have been ideal.

  He was mad! She couldn’t marry him. Being married meant giving him an heir, which meant he would see her scars, and when he did, she would see pity in his eyes, or worse, disgust.

  If she asked him to never come to her bed, would he agree? No, he needed an heir, something she couldn’t give him if she wasn’t willing to allow intimacies. It came to her then, the way to put a stop to this absurdity. It was too unnerving to think about now, however.

  She wanted to spend time with her son, needed his sweet presence. Between his schooling and riding lessons, he barely had time for her and she missed him.

  “My lady, you rang for me?”

  “There you are. Bring my pelisse, Fanny, and wait for me downstairs. I wish to go for a walk.”

  She went to the schoolroom. “My pardon, Mr. Denton, but I’ve come to steal your student for an hour, if you are agreeable. I wish to take him for a walk in the park.”

  He bowed. “Of course, my lady. He has been diligently studying since luncheon and would no doubt welcome a bit of fresh air. ”

  “Is Michael coming, too, Mama?”

  “No, love, not today.” She took his hand and led him downstairs. How had Michael become so important to him so quickly? Would he be happy if she married Michael? He would probably be ecstatic.

  Foolish man. Why did he want to marry her? She couldn’t deny there was still something between them, but love? The ability to feel that emotion had been beaten
out of her long ago. She wished he had asked her to be his mistress. It would be easier to refuse. The temptation to accept his marriage offer was a difficult thing to resist. She would be forever safe, Jamie fed, clothed and under the protection of his true father.

  Jamie let go of her hand and jumped down the steps. “Aunt Suzanne, are you going walking with us?”

  “Well, good afternoon, ma précieux. If your mother doesn’t mind my company, I would love to.” She held up Diana’s pelisse. “I came across your maid in the hall and she mentioned you were off for a walk. I thought you would not mind if I came along, and so I sent Fanny back to her duties.”

  “By all means, it would be a pleasure to have you join us.” Diana enjoyed talking to Lady Suzanne, and she would provide a welcome diversion from thoughts of Michael, and his impossible offer.

  “I know what you called me, Aunt Suzanne.”

  “Do you now?”

  “Yes, you said I’m your precious. I’m learning Latin and French. Michael said I’m smarter than him, but he speaks French very fast, so I think he is still smarter than me.”

  They walked to the park with Jamie between them. Diana tried to listen to the banter between Jamie and Lady Suzanne, but her mind drifted to Michael. It had to be Jamie that motivated him. Hadn’t he said he wanted his son with him? He wanted Jamie, and she just happened to be the means.

  He also claimed there was still something between them, but something was not good enough. If he loved her, she might risk it and pray Shakespeare spoke true when he said love is blind. Except for the lack of food, she yearned to be back at the cottage where her days had been simple. Yet, that was not entirely true. She had no wish to return to a life of struggle, fearing each day Jamie wasn’t getting enough to eat.

  She huffed out an irritated breath. The purpose of this walk was to take her mind off Michael and his proposal. It was a lovely fall day, and she was here to enjoy time with her son, the fresh air and the sun on her face. She didn’t care if she freckled, the warmth on her skin was all that mattered. And she would have begun her enjoyment at that very moment if she hadn’t spied Lady Hartwell coming toward them.