Sandra Owens

by The Letter

  Michael had wanted her to find her wings and she had, and she could not bear to lose them again. She leaned down and smelled the roses that were delivered each day. Where did he find them at this time of year? Biting down on her trembling lip, she turned away and walked out without looking back. Gordon and Rory fell in behind her. Downstairs, she found Smedley standing in the hallway eyeing the pile of trunks.

  “Is Lord Daventry in his study?”

  “No, my lady, he has not returned.”

  “Oh, he left?”

  “He did not come in after he returned you home.” His gaze returned to the trunks. “Are you going somewhere, my lady?”

  “Yes, actually, I am. Is there another carriage available?”

  “Does his lordship know you are leaving?”

  Even his butler thought she needed the master’s permission. Any second now, she was going to scream. “No, I can’t say that he does.”

  Fanny and Mr. Denton descended the stairs. Good, all her people were here and ready to go. “Forget the carriage, Smedley, we will walk. I will send someone for the trunks.”

  “What should I tell his lordship, my lady?”

  From the doorway, she glanced over her shoulder. “You may tell your master I found my wings and have flown away.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  “Lady Brantley flew away.”

  Michael stilled. What the bloody hell did that mean?

  Jamie’s little hand tightened onto his. “Michael, Mama can’t fly. What does he mean?”

  So, he was back to being Michael. He pushed the regret aside, and focused on Smedley. “Explain.”

  “Lady Brantley left, my lord. She said to tell you she found her wings and has flown. I am not sure what she means, but she said she will send someone for these.” Smedley pointed behind him.

  Noticing them for the first time, he stared at the pile of trunks. She had left him?

  Jamie started crying. “I want my Mama.”

  Michael picked him up. “Hush. Your Mama would never leave you.”

  His mother came down the stairs. “Michael, why is Jamie crying?”

  He held Jamie close and looked at his mother. “Did Diana say anything to you?”

  “I only returned a few minutes ago. Did she speak to me about what?”

  He looked at the trunks. “About those.”

  She shook her head. “What is going on?”

  “I don’t know.” He kissed Jamie’s cheek. “Go with Aunt Suzanne, son. All is well, I promise you.” He looked at his mother and lifted his gaze, wanting her to take Jamie to her chamber. She nodded her understanding.

  “Did Lady Brantley say where she was going?” he asked after Jamie was gone.

  “No, my lord, but it could not have been far as she walked.”

  His blood turned cold. “Alone?”

  “Not at all. Her maid, Mr. Denton and those Highlander boys are with her.”

  She had gone to her parents. “Return the trunks to their proper rooms.” She would not leave him. He would not let her. A carriage pulled up as he stepped outside.

  A footman in Rotharton livery jumped down from the bench. “My lord, I am to collect Lady Brantley’s trunks.”

  Like hell. “Get back on the coach and tell your man to return to Lord Rotharton’s.” Michael jumped inside.

  An hour later, Michael was back home. She had refused to see him, sending a message via Fanny that he could call on her tomorrow at two, and to please send Jamie to her.

  He went up to her chamber. There was no sign she had been in this room. No, there was. He inhaled and smelled the faint scent of vanilla. In the center of the room, he stood with his hands fisted at his sides. Had he lost her again?

  Why couldn’t she understand? All he had tried to do was keep her safe. How could that be wrong? Yes, but you heard the pleasure in her voice as she read to the boys. Was he being unreasonable? She wanted a purpose. Why wasn’t he enough for her?

  He walked around the room, touching the places he thought she might have. At her vanity, he stopped and stared at the jewelry she had worn to the ball. The topaz was cold to his touch. Sweet Jesus, she had been so beautiful. And happy, so damn happy. At least, until Serena ruined everything.

  The hothouse roses he had delivered each morning were yellow today. Per his instructions, the color changed with each delivery. Red, yellow, white, and pink, the same as those surrounding the girl in the picture at his lodge. A thorn pricked his finger when he picked one up. He should send for the portrait and hang it in his chamber.

  He returned the rose to its vase and turned away. At her bed, he brought her pillow to his face, inhaled her scent and wept. Losing her the first time had almost killed him, how was he to survive it again?

  God, why hadn’t he listened to her? He was a bloody arse. It would have been so easy to give her what she wanted and still keep her safe. He could have escorted her to the school, but if she hadn’t wanted him to, Gordon and Rory would have seen to her.

  “Michael?”

  He lowered the pillow. “Where is Jamie?”

  “Asleep. Mon Dieu, what has happened?”

  “She left me. Apparently, I am a donkey’s bottom.”

  His mother chuckled and came to sit beside him. “Were you?”

  “My intentions were good, but yes, I’m afraid I was. What am I going to do? I can’t lose her again.”

  She rested her head on his shoulder. “Tell me what you did.”

  When he finished, she sighed. “So like your father, you are. Mostly that is a good thing, but sometimes not. We had some terrific rows when we first married because he believed he always knew what was best for me.” She smiled dreamily. “But oh, the making up, it was plaisir fabuleux.”

  “Mother! I do not want to hear about your fabulous fun with father.”

  That brought a wide grin. “Just how do you think you got here, Michael?”

  “I am fully aware of how I got here, but that doesn’t mean I want the details. The last thing I want is a vision of you doing that. I prefer to think of my mother as pure, and beg you not to ruin my illusion.”

  She laughed so hard she fell back on the bed. The ache in his heart eased a little. She could always make him smile, no matter his hurts.

  “When you are over your little fit, may we continue our discussion? Somehow, we veered away into areas I would like for us to consider taboo in future conversations.”

  Sitting up, she nodded, but her eyes still sparkled with merriment. “Yes, of course. Now, where were we?”

  “We were going to decide what I should do.”

  “You’re the one always with a plan. What do you want to do?”

  If he had the answer to that, he would rush right out and begin. “I don’t know. I’m so frightened now of doing the wrong thing that I can’t think clearly. I went to Rotharton’s earlier, but she refused to see me. She sent word she would see me tomorrow at two. I don’t know what to make of that.”

  “You do know she loves you, don’t you?”

  Sweet Jesus, if only she did. “No, she doesn’t.”

  “You are wrong. I’ve seen the way she looks at you, but for some reason it frightens her. I think she was looking for an excuse to run. When you behaved like a donkey’s bottom, you handed her a reason to do so. Why would she fear loving you?”

  Michael stood and paced to the window. He considered her question. Did Diana truly love him? If so, why would she leave? Because…because? Bloody hell, he really was an arse. He spun. “Two reasons. The one that plays on her mind the most is because Leo tortured her and she now believes she is undesirable.”

  His mother pressed her hand over her heart. “What?”

  He strode back to the bed and sat beside her. “Her body is scarred.” Michael shifted to face her. “You must never tell her you know. I’ve seen some of the marks on her legs. They appear to have been made by a knife. There is a burn on her back that looks like it was made by a cigar, or perhaps a cheroot. I thi
nk there are even more.” He didn’t mention the puckered skin he had felt on her breast.

  She covered her mouth with her hands. “Mon Dieu.”

  Too agitated to sit, he stood again and began to pace. “The second reason I believe she left is because for ten years, she lived in fear of Leo’s rule. Then I come along and order her to do this, to do that. Even when she didn’t want to, I didn’t listen. I knew what was best for her and heedless of her desires, I plowed ahead. She asked for one thing, something I could have given her and still ensured her safety.”

  He stopped in front of his mother and held his hands out, palms up. “And what do I do? I refused to hear her.”

  Tears streamed her cheeks. “What are you going to do?”

  “She has agreed to see me tomorrow. I will beg her to forgive me.”

  “No, I don’t think you should go to her. Right now, she is angry. She is going to tell you she will not marry you. Once she does, it will be difficult for her to back down. She needs some time for her anger to ease and to start missing you. Write her a note and ask permission for Jamie to stay here tonight, and that you will bring him with you tomorrow.”

  “You just said I shouldn’t go.”

  “And you won’t. I will take him, and perhaps she will allow me a few minutes of her time. Hopefully, she will confide in me. Based on my own experience, I will assure her it is possible to train a donkey.”

  “Very funny.”

  She laughed. “But very true.”

  “And the other? How do I make her believe she is desirable?”

  She stood and waved a hand at him. “That is your problem to solve.”

  Michael checked on Jamie and seeing he was still asleep, went to his study, poured a brandy and sat down to think.

  He needed a new plan. He would crawl across the Sahara without water if need be to win her back. Surely, he could come up with something easier than that. Taking a sheet of paper from his desk, he stared at the blank page and considered what to say. Picking up the quill, he began to write.

  Diana,

  I am writing to ask a favor. May Jamie stay with me tonight? I promise you will have him back tomorrow. At the moment, he is fast asleep in Mother’s bed. Did you know our son snores? It is the sweetest sound.

  Yours,

  Michael

  P.S. Mother will bring him to you as I will be busy collecting cats.

  If she didn’t return to him, he feared he would turn into a mad, cat-collecting hermit. He grinned as an idea came to him and he began furiously outlining his plan.

  “Are you writing a book, Daventry?”

  Michael looked up, surprised Smedley hadn’t announced the duke. “Your Grace, come in. Did you scare off my butler?”

  “I told him I knew perfectly well where your study was located.” Aubrey again made himself at home by wandering around the room and picking up various objects, looking them over and then moving on to the next.

  Why was he here? Did he have news of Serena’s intentions?

  Aubrey picked up a ship in a bottle and held it up. “Derebourne tells me we are now in the shipping business. Always wanted to own a ship. How the hell do they do this?”

  “I don’t know, Marlowe gave it to me. As for owning a ship, I wouldn’t exactly say we do, only that we are investing in the company.”

  “Same thing.” He put the bottle down and took a seat across from Michael. “Thought you would want to know Serena has called off the hounds. She told her man to stop following you and your lady.”

  “Do you believe him?”

  “Indeed, I do. He fears the consequences too much to lie to me.”

  Michael didn’t doubt it. “Do you think she is planning something else?”

  His Grace shrugged. “Who knows with that one, but he doesn’t think so. For now, I would still keep the guards you hired for Lady Brantley.”

  “I will.” He would not gamble with her safety, especially while she lived elsewhere. Even if he was sure Serena meant no harm, as long as Diana was going to the school, she needed guarding.

  After Aubrey left, Michael returned to the letter he was writing. Would she find it amusing?

  ****

  “Did he tell you he was sad?” It was pathetic how eager she was to hear even the smallest hint that Michael was miserable.

  “No, but he is. He has sad eyes like you used to have when we lived with Father. I asked Papa if he was mad at you.”

  “Oh, Jamie, he isn’t mad at me.”

  “I know. He said he could never be mad at you. I love grandmamma and grandpapa, but I want to go home.”

  “We are home.”

  His expression turned mutinous. “No, Mama, we are not. Our home is with Papa.”

  “Did Michael ask you to call him Papa?”

  “No, I asked him and he said he didn’t mind. Can we go back?”

  “I have to leave in a few minutes. We will talk about this when I return.”

  He gave her a glare as only a ten-year-old boy could and stomped out of the room. Had Michael put him up to this?

  An entire blasted week had passed, and not once had he come to see her, although he’d made arrangements to see Jamie every morning for riding lessons.

  Each day, she received a different color rose and a note giving her a description of his newest cat, along with its name and peculiarities. He claimed one he called Peggy only had three legs and kept falling over, her little paws waving in the air until he uprighted her. Diana tried hard not to laugh.

  God, she missed him.

  She had prepared herself to tell him she would not marry him, but he had failed to make an appearance, instead, his mother brought Jamie back. She and Lady Suzanne had talked for an hour, and afterwards, Diana sat alone and thought about Lady Suzanne’s recounting of the early days of her marriage.

  Like his father had for Lady Suzanne, could Michael learn to stop trying to control her every action? Even if he could, there was still the other problem. She should have showed him her body as she had intended, then she would have an answer to at least one question.

  “My lady, are you ready to go?”

  “Yes, Fanny, I am.”

  There was another note awaiting her on the hallway table and she took it with her to the carriage. On the ride to the Blue Coat School, she read Michael’s description of his newest cat.

  Dearest Diana,

  I am worried about Clancy. He sits for hours in front of the mirror staring at his reflection. Does he like what he sees? Does he think himself dashing?

  Peggy tried to seduce him by sticking her bottom (which she vigorously washed first) in his face. What male would not be impressed by that, I ask you? Not our Clancy, apparently. His gaze never left the mirror even when she fell over, her privates blatantly exposed.

  Priscilla (recall, she is the one who is quite vocal in expressing her opinions) came along and batted Peggy on the nose, and then I am fairly sure, called her a hussy in cat talk.

  Meanwhile, Mother hasn’t stopped sneezing.

  Yours always,

  Michael

  Diana smiled and put his letter in her reticule. How did one stay angry at a man who wrote her daily letters about imaginary cats? At least, she hoped they were imaginary. She didn’t really want to live in a house full of felines. Her breath caught. When had she decided to go back?

  Was that what she wanted? Not seeing Michael for a week had been torture. She had thought about him, dreamed about him, and wept from missing him. They needed to sit down and talk. Tonight, she would go to him, and depending on what he said, she would decide whether or not to show him her body. It made her physically ill to consider it so she was glad when they stopped in front of the school.

  Her bodyguards jumped down from the bench and followed her inside, stationing themselves outside the door to the room. She entered with Fanny and thoroughly enjoyed her hour with the boys. Too soon, it was over and they returned to the carriage.

  Standing in front of it, waiting fo
r her was Michael. In his hand, he held one red rose, and nestled in his arm was a gray and white cat. Diana bit her cheek to keep from laughing.

  He saw her, smiled and bowed. Her heart, always silly at the sight of him, did a merry dance. God, he was beautiful. She wanted to run into his arms and never leave, but she forced herself to walk to him.

  “My lady, allow me to introduce you to Peggy. Peggy, this is the lady I’ve been telling you about.” The cat purred loudly when he scratched her ear. “What’s that?” He leaned his head down and listened, then looked at Diana. “She said to tell you that you are as pretty as I said.”

  “She said all that? I’m impressed. Does she really only have three legs?”

  “Yes.” He held up Peggy and showed her a back leg was missing.

  “Poor thing. Wherever did you find her?”

  He scratched the cat’s ear again, and she returned to purring. “Hmm? Give her the rose?” He held it out. “Peggy said I should give this to you.”

  “Thank you, Peggy.” Diana took it from him and brought it to her nose. He was far too clever. A rose and a purring three-legged cat were impossible to resist.

  “As to where I found her, I’ll tell you if you will allow me take you to your father’s.”

  She studied him. He seemed to be holding his breath as if fearing she would refuse. “All right.”

  A smile lit his face. “Thank you.”

  He sent Fanny and her guards ahead in Rotharton’s carriage, and then escorted her and Peggy into his. He sat across from her with his three-legged cat curled on his lap. Diana held her rose, and couldn’t think of a thing to say.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Michael resisted the urge to tug on his neckcloth. He had never been so nervous in his life. God, please let him say all the right things and nothing to destroy the reprieve he seemed to have won.