The Duke of Morewether’s Secret

by Amylynn Bright

  “Good. That’s a delicate topic I want handled carefully.” The decision made, he turned to the sideboard and poured two glasses of whiskey. “She’s become important to me, and I don’t want her raked over the coals with nastiness from the ton.” Thomas nodded approvingly as he took the tumbler. They sat heavily into the deep leather chairs. “Where is my wife?”

  Thomas shrugged. “I’ve certainly not been in charge of her while you were gone, but I suspect all the ladies are over at Dalton’s. You know how women are with babies.”

  He’d forgotten all about Dalton’s coming heir. “Oh, yes.” He raised his glass. “To the wee baby.”

  “What did you think of Hektor and Georgios?”

  Thomas shook his head. “Not seen them either. No one is here.”

  Then with perfect timing, the roar of hundreds of voices filled his home. Only the absence of the smell of trained animals kept the imagery of a traveling performing show at bay. Christian set his glass on the table and proceeded to the front of his house with swiftness just shy of a sprint.

  Not a hundred people filled his foyer — only the ones he loved most and a few extra cast members he suspected were Thea’s youngest brothers. His mother and Francesca saw him first and screeched together, “Christian!”

  The entire herd of them whipped around, and then the cacophony of voices was directed at him. First his mother, who was standing nearest him, pulled him in for a hug, then his sister. His arms were filled with soft, nice-smelling women, none of whom was his wife. Anna grinned at him from the back of the pack.

  Thea’s expression was unreadable, a collection of swiftly changing emotions that had his gut clenching in an unpleasant, anxious way. He projected a new smile he’d been practicing, the Adoring Husband, but it didn’t get much of a response. Another screech filled the air accompanied by Lucy belting pell-mell down the stairs, an over-sized orange cat clutched in her arms. She flew into her grandmother’s arms.

  Still with all the noise and Francesca and Anna’s rapid-fire questions peppering him, Thea remained rooted in place just inside the doorway.

  “Your Grace,” Riley’s smooth voice penetrated the din.

  “Oh.” Thea finally spoke only to acknowledge the butler’s wish to close the front door on their scene. One less event for the pedestrians of Mayfair to witness. She walked several steps into the house, but still not close enough for Christian to fold her hand in his and pull her in for the kiss he’d been planning on all day.

  His attention was pulled back to the crowd and introductions were made. Georgios held out his hand and nodded a respectful bow. The younger boy, Hektor, gave him a gap-toothed grin and said something in heavily accented English. Both boys had the same dark hair and olive skin as Thea, and they looked remarkably like Alexios. Georgios even had the same gray-green eyes as his wife, and they were as remarkable on him as they were on her.

  At some point Thomas clapped Christian on the back and told him once again how glad he was he was home — even with the scurvy and tentacle scars, and removed himself and his wife from the scene. Anna disappeared upstairs and his mother gathered all the children, all of whom had managed to instantly forge a raucous friendship, and steered them out into the garden, leaving Christian and his wife alone in the foyer for the first time since their wedding.

  ~~~***~~~

  He was home.

  Thea was awash with emotions — relief made itself known first followed by a giddiness that warred with her desire to slap him silly. It also angered her when her body had an instant response to seeing him. There were entirely too many things that needed to be unraveled before she intended to conduct marital relations with a man she was still not convinced she wanted to continue to be married to. Even after all the long separation, he was still the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. His dark hair was freshly cut, probably by his valet the minute he came home. His skin was usually more golden than fashion dictated from all the time with horses, but now he was as sun tanned as any sailor.

  She’d have an easier time convincing herself to be strong and stick to her principles if he wasn’t looking at her that way. A gaze of longing and lust — a lot of lust. The foyer fairly crackled with it. So much so, she couldn’t believe the others couldn’t feel it.

  She pulled her gaze away from his when she realized her face was hot from blushing. His daughter hugged the dowager Duchess as if she’d been a favorite grandmother her entire life not just the last several months. She was an energetic child and was engaging her brothers in loud conversation almost immediately.

  Then they were alone, everyone had simply melted away, and he was approaching her with swift feet.

  “Hello.” He stopped in front of her, too close for comfort. Too close for Thea to remember to keep a steady head about her. “You’re beautiful.”

  “You’re alive.” That was a stupid opening salvo.

  His fingers stroked her arm, tickled her skin as they grazed the hem of her cap sleeve. “I am. I’ve been all over hell and gone chasing you.”

  “I’d say I’m sorry about that, but I didn’t ask you to come.” She resisted the urge to lean into him. She did close her eyes in a long blink when his free hand fitted into the curve of her waist.

  “What kind of a cad doesn’t chase after his brand-new wife?” His voiced his question in a soft, intimate tone.

  Thea swallowed. “What kind of a cad doesn’t tell that new wife he has a daughter?”

  “Can we discuss this later?” Christian pulled her closer, molding her body to his.

  “No —”

  His lips came down on hers, and she didn’t make any pretense of ending the kiss. It was desperate, needy and demanding with grasping fingers and clutching fists. He was hard already; she felt him pressing into her stomach. Thea arched into one hand that found her breast. They were both panting when he broke the kiss, pulling back far enough to see her face.

  “God, I’ve missed you,” he told her and kissed the right side of her mouth.

  She wanted to say she missed him, too, but the words wouldn’t come. “We’ve been worried about you.”

  “We?” He paused from kissing her neck long enough to give her a cocky grin.

  If she was going to demand honesty from her husband, she had to be willing to offer the same. “I worried. A lot.”

  “I couldn’t believe I missed you by days.” He nuzzled the tender skin of her neck below her ear.

  “You brought Lucy with you?” She still couldn’t believe he had done that.

  “I hadn’t intended to,” he admitted. “She sneaked on board the boat, so I was stuck with her.”

  There was the Christian she was expecting. She regained her footing and pushed away from him with both hands. “I can’t believe you said that.” Actually, she could. That’s exactly what her father would have said.

  He reached for her. “Honey, I have much to tell you, but can’t it wait for a bit?”

  The warm feeling hadn’t completely left her, and her husband was oh, so charming and handsome. But she refused to be ruled by baser emotions. It would be entirely too easy to cave in to the desire that simmered under the anger, ready to thaw out her heart. She mustered up the anger she’d been nurturing since her wedding.

  She moved away from his reach. “No.” An expression of sleepy lust was his secret weapon. Thea wondered how many women he’d won over with this routine.

  “Sweeting, can’t we forget this mess for a little while, and remember why we got married in the first place. I’ve missed you so much, and I’m certain you’ve missed me, too.”

  She had missed him, terribly, but that fact and sad implication that her body betrayed her only infuriated her more. That was a character flaw she’d have to work on. Thea started for the stairs, taking each riser with purposeful steps. “I’m so glad you’re home safe if only so I can have the right to still be angry at you. If I’d come back and you were here waiting for me, not chasing after me like some lovesick fool, then I wou
ld have still been angry at you. I can’t tell you how furious I’d be if you died at sea, you fool.”

  She heard his heavy footfalls following after her up the stairs.

  “Thea, stop and talk with me.” His fingers grazed the hem of her skirt so she picked up the pace and nearly sprinted up the last four risers.

  “You don’t want to actually talk. You want to distract me from a conversation that needs to happen if you ever plan to touch me again.” Her feet moved faster along the hallway. When she arrived at the doorway to her suite, she turned around only to find him invading her space.

  “Come on,” he cajoled. “We’ve not had a honeymoon. Let me show you how much I love you.

  Yes, her body screamed. Let him show you.

  Holding up her hands in defense, she said, “Now that you’re home safe, you need to think what’s important to you.” What she wanted was a few minutes to marshal her forces, gather her thoughts. What was at stake was important and couldn’t be settled through lovemaking alone. She wanted, needed, explanations and even then, she wasn’t sure if she could stay married to a man who cared so little about what was important to her.

  Christian’s expression changed. No longer did he seem the lusty, love struck paramour. He placed a hand on either side of the door jamb, level with her head, and leaned in. His voice was … ducal, for lack of a better description. “I know exactly what’s important to me. I’ve had nothing but time to think about it. All of this ridiculous nonsense could have been avoided if you’d simply allowed me a few minutes of your time instead of sneaking away in the dead of night.”

  Granted, that had been a childish move on her part, but in her defense the wound was so raw at that point, rational thought was unlikely. “Everything happened very fast.” It was a lame defense. Her hand scrambled for the doorknob and twisted it open. She backed into the room, but he followed.

  “You think so?” he said, his voice ringing with irony. “You want to talk, we’ll talk. Sit.”

  She moved to obey him, having run out of smart repartee, only to find the room devoid of personal items. Glancing around the room proved there was nothing of hers present. The perfume bottles were gone from the mirrored table. The books stacked next to the bed were absent. She was willing to bet if she opened the drawers and cabinets, her clothes would be missing as well. With new venom, she wheeled around on her heel. “Where are my things?”

  Christian narrowed his eyes at her, his hands on his hips in a no-nonsense stance that attested he was ready for battle. “I had all your belongings moved into my room.”

  “Why?”

  “In case you’ve forgotten, woman, you’re my wife. You belong in my room, and so do your things. You can be righteous all you want, but you’re sleeping in my bed tonight.” He flashed her a look of triumph, as if he’d laid down the winning card hand and taken her for all she was worth.

  Stupid man. He had no idea who he was dealing with here. She quashed the excitement the idea of sleeping in his bed incited. “I will sleep in your bed,” she said as she took off for the adjoining door at a run. “I have no idea where will you be sleeping.” She slid the bolt home as he crashed into the door, but the wood held.

  “God damn it,” he thundered from the other side of the door, but he didn’t bang again.

  It took several seconds for her to realize he was heading for the outer door from the hall. She slid that lock in time and leaned her back against the door.

  Christian swore from the hall when he was thwarted again. “So now who’s childish?” He laughed but it was bitter. “Don’t be so naïve as to think you’ve won this game. I’ve dealt with crazier women than you and triumphed.” Then from further down the hall, “I’ll be back. Best contemplate your next move.”

  “Well, that didn’t go as expected,” she said aloud, her hand on her chest and her breathing rapid from the excitement.

  She avoided looking at the enormous bed in the center of the room. If she spent too much time contemplating what could be going on there, she’d never get the upper hand.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Christian glowered and grumbled all the way back to his study, where he slammed the door closed behind him. Thea had to be mad. Damned women, ruining his life. He’d never met one that wasn’t entirely off the beam.

  So he’d chased his wife half way around the world for nothing. One would have thought that would have earned him some credit, but no. Nothing. Not one ounce of weight was given for that effort. He stalked around the room. He threw himself into his desk chair then rose again just as quickly to continue the unsatisfying stomp across the thick carpets.

  The heavy door made no noise when it opened to reveal his brother-in-law, Alexios.

  “I didn’t hear you knock.” Christian shoved his hands into his pockets.

  “I didn’t. Why are you storming around down here and not with your wife?” Alexios wandered over to the sofa and sat with natural laziness that irritated Christian to no end.

  He flung a hand to heaven. “I have no bloody idea. The woman is crazy. She insists she wants to talk and then refuses to. She threw me out of my own God-forsaken bedroom. I should march up there and break the damn door down.”

  “Ummm.” Alexios twisted his mouth to the side and shook his head. “That’s probably not the best plan.”

  “I should say not.”

  Christian threw back his head and blew out an exasperated breath at the sound of Anna’s voice. “This is my study, Anna.”

  Anna gave him the superbly mastered Men Are Idiots look taught to females from a young age by governesses across the land. “Don’t you mean it’s your fort? No girls allowed, right? Like when we were kids.”

  There was a snort from the sofa which Christian chose to ignore. As annoying as he was, at least Alexios wasn’t a girl. “What do you want?”

  She took the moment and stretched it as long as possible by strolling to the bell pull, waited for the butler to answer, and requested tea. Then she glided to the club chair near the sofa and settled on the cushion, smoothing her skirts before she answered. “How was your trip?” Christian glowered at her until she dropped the simpering smile. “Look, I won’t be around forever to get you out of all your marital scrapes. At some point you’re going to have to figure these things out for yourself.”

  “I don’t need your help. I have everything under control.” Another snort from the sofa and skeptical regard from Anna. “You don’t believe me?” The butler entered supervising a maid with a tray of tea and cakes. “Riley, see that no one brings any food or drink to the duchess while she’s sulking in my bedroom. None, you understand?” The butler nodded, his expression utterly blank. Christian turned to the naysayers. “I’ll make her talk to me.”

  She wanted childish? He could give her childish in spades.

  ~~~***~~~

  Thea suspected something was afoot when no one responded to the bell pull after a half hour. She’d thought her own maid would be loyal to her, but apparently Hudson knew what side of the bread her salary was buttered on. Thea had a cache of sweets in the drawer by the bed in her old bedroom, but it didn’t seem it had been transferred with the rest of her things, or at least she couldn’t find it. Of course, her fool husband wouldn’t think to have a small collection of nibbles around.

  After several hours boredom set in. Besides the food issue, she’d already read all the books she’d had piled up. Either her husband didn’t read in bed, or he hadn’t been home long enough to amass a reading list. What if her husband wasn’t even a reader? She had enough familiarity with tonnish homes to know that a library was de rigueur whether the owner read or not. Remembering the day they met at the lecture, she found some relief knowing he was an educated man who enjoyed learning. Surely he read for knowledge, but did he read for pleasure? It was tragic how little she knew about her husband.

  She wished she’d thought this course of action through before making the jump to declaring his bedroom as her castle. The room was
plush and comfortable — a fine place to be imprisoned, all things considered, except she wasn’t imprisoned. She could leave any time she wanted.

  Through that window, for example. Thea contemplated the potential escape route. If memory served it should be even with that burned oak tree. Charred though it was, it should still support her weight. She unlatched the hasp and pushed open the sash to evaluate the possibility. Except her husband was seated in a club chair he’d probably forced some poor footman to wrestle out of his study. It was positioned in the dirt where the former tree had stood. On a spindly-legged table next to the chair was a decanter of some sort of alcohol and a tray of sandwiches and other delectable foodstuffs. He sat with one long leg bent with the ankle on the opposite knee and the newssheet spread in front of him. Either he heard the casing squeak open or he sensed her glaring at him, and he tilted his head to look at her.

  “Thea.” The tone of his voice implied he believed he had one up on her, lurking in the garden, spying on her.

  “Where is the tree?” She asked because she couldn’t think of anything else.

  Christian folded the paper and laid it on his lap. “I had it torn down. That part of my life is finished.”

  She sucked air between her teeth. Underneath the window the house had nothing she could get purchase on, no ledges or sills for her toes to grasp on the way down.

  “Are you ready to end this absurdity?” he asked. A flinty-eyed sneer answered his question, and she pulled the window closed. “You’re going to have to talk to me eventually, Thea,” he called from the garden. “How long can you stay in there? I’ve chased you across the ocean for months. I’ll wait out here just as long.”

  She whipped the drapery closed with a vicious snap of her hand.

  Three hours later, someone scratched at the doorway between the bedrooms. Thea pressed her ear to the door, certain it was a trap. “Who’s there?”

  A girl’s voice replied. “Hello, Thea. It’s Lucy.”

  Oh. Thea hadn’t seen that development coming. She cracked the door ajar and peeked through the space. “Hello.”