Once Dishonored

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Once Dishonored Page 10

by Mary Jo Putney


  “I’m tempted to do that myself for old times’ sake,” he said with apparent seriousness.

  He tucked her hand around his elbow and they ascended the steps. By the time they reached the top, the door was opened by a butler who was very properly dressed, other than the fact he was wearing a turban. He must be from India.

  The butler bowed. “Welcome, Lord Foxton and Miss Douglas.”

  Obviously notice of their arrival had preceded them. By the time the butler had taken their cloaks and hats, a silver-haired couple appeared in the entry hall.

  “Lucas!” The petite, elegant woman hugged him. “It’s been too long!”

  “Not that long, Aunt Anna,” he protested as he hugged her back. “Less than a month.”

  “But there are years to make up for,” his uncle said as he offered his hand. Tanned by years in a tropical sun, he had the same tall, lean build as Lucas.

  After a firm handshake, Lucas drew Kendra forward. “Let me introduce my friend, Kendra Douglas. We have decided that we must be cousins of some sort. Kendra, meet my great-uncle and aunt, Sir William and Lady Mandeville.” He gave a fond smile. “Aunt Anna and Uncle William, who sent marvelous letters and small presents all the way from India when I was a boy. And added more gifts for Simon when I was taken in by the Duvals.”

  His aunt chuckled. “I find it best to treat all the children in the household the same. That doesn’t mean they won’t quarrel, but it gives them less reason to do so.”

  Sir William must have been knighted for his service in India and he had an air of authority. Feeling shy, Kendra said, “Lucas insisted that you wouldn’t mind having a stranger foisted off on you, but if you’d rather not, I can go to an inn.”

  “Nonsense! Any friend of Lucas’s is welcome.” Lady Mandeville’s smile was welcoming but her eyes were shrewd as she assessed Kendra. She was probably trying to determine the nature of the relationship between her nephew and this strange woman, and likely wondering why Kendra wore mourning black. “I’ll show you to your room so you can refresh yourself. Then we can all have a nice cup of tea.”

  Tea, cakes, and an inquisition. Kendra supposed it was only to be expected. “Thank you, that would be lovely.”

  Lady Mandeville escorted Kendra up the stairs to a well-furnished, spacious bedchamber. With a canopy bed, desk, sofa, and wardrobe, it was decorated in elegant, feminine shades of green, rose, and cream. Kendra smiled and moved across the room to the window. “What a beautiful room, and what a beautiful view.”

  The ancient tower was to her left, the stones glowing golden in the late afternoon sun. Her window overlooked formal gardens that were just waking from their winter sleep, while in the distance rolling hills were checked with fields and pastures. “I love the way the house reflects so many eras. Is Camden Keep an old family property, or did you and Sir William acquire it after you returned from India?”

  “It’s an old family property, but it belongs to Lucas, not us.”

  Surprised, Kendra turned back to the older woman. “I didn’t realize that. He referred to it as yours.”

  His aunt smiled. “He’s been very respectful of our feelings. You know that Lucas was missing and presumed dead for a number of years?” At Kendra’s nod, the older woman continued, “After seven years, he was declared deceased, so the title and estate came to William. He grew up here as a younger son and was happy to return. Then Lucas most wonderfully returned from the dead and everything changed again.”

  Curious, Kendra asked, “Was it hard to give all this up?”

  “Not at all. Though the lawyers made a meal of it, in practical terms nothing really changed. Lucas said we should continue to treat Camden Keep and the London town house as our own. Naturally he’s welcome in both houses at all times.”

  “It’s lovely that you all get on so well.”

  Lady Mandeville laughed. “It’s not difficult. We have no children who might covet the title and property. Lucas is the closest thing we have to a son, and the day we learned that he was alive and coming home was one of the happiest of our lives.” Her gaze became thoughtful. “Of course, things will change when Lucas marries, but we won’t cause trouble for him or his wife.”

  Hearing what wasn’t said, Kendra said, “You needn’t wonder if I might become a problem. I’m a divorcée, my reputation is ruined, and I’m forbidden by law to marry again. I hope I can build a case that will allow me to be reunited with my son, but the reputation is irredeemable. Lucas and I are friends, not lovers.”

  The other woman’s gaze sharpened. “You were Lady Denshire? We’d heard of that affair. It was quite . . . lurid.”

  Kendra sighed, disappointed but unsurprised. “Very lurid indeed. I could tell you that the evidence against me was fabricated by Denshire, but you have no reason to take my word for it. I don’t wish to cause you discomfort. I’ll ask the coachman to take me to the nearest inn.”

  Lady Mandeville’s brows arched. “There’s no need for that. Quite apart from the fact that you’re Lucas’s guest and this is his house, I can’t believe that he would befriend you without good reason. You are welcome here. I look forward to hearing more of the scandal from your point of view.”

  Kendra caught her breath, wishing there was a way she could be part of Lucas’s generous, open-hearted family. It wasn’t possible, but she was grateful for Lady Mandeville’s acceptance. As Lucas had said, his aunt and uncle were very tolerant. “Thank you. I’ll be happy to explain what really happened.”

  “You can tell us about it over tea,” Lady Mandeville said. “Then Lucas will want to introduce you to the Magdalene. Has he told you about her?”

  “Yes, and I’m looking forward to meeting her.”

  “She is a most wonderful mule.” Lady Mandeville gave a mischievous smile. “Lucas can have Camden Keep, but he would have trouble taking the Magdalene away from us!”

  * * *

  Lucas was pleased but not surprised that their tea went so smoothly. He suspected that Kendra and his aunt had enjoyed a woman-to-woman talk while Lucas and his uncle had taken care of some estate business.

  As his aunt and uncle listened intently, Kendra had briefly described her situation and hopes for regaining custody of Christopher. She had told her story often enough that it was polished, yet still convincing. But she didn’t mention her lost daughter or the purpose of this journey. Lucas suspected that was too private and painful.

  When the tea and cakes were gone, Lucas said, “It’s turned into a lovely day. More summer than spring. Would you like to take a walk while it’s still light, Kendra? I’d like to introduce you to the Magdalene.”

  She laughed as she got to her feet. “I’d love to meet this wonder mule.”

  “Enjoy the sunshine, dear,” his aunt said. “Dinner will be at the usual time.”

  Lucas escorted Kendra to a side door that led toward the stables. When they stepped outside, he said, “My aunt and uncle like you.”

  Kendra took his arm, her touch light and relaxed. “And I like them. You were right about how tolerant they are.” She gave him a slanting glance. “I didn’t realize the estate belonged to you until your aunt mentioned it.”

  He shrugged. “It’s entailed so it came to me, though it would more justly belong to Uncle William. He grew up here, and he’s been managing the estate and doing it very well for years.”

  She gestured at the neat gardens and pleasantly weathered stone outbuildings. “Does this feel like your home?”

  It was a question he hadn’t considered. “Not really,” he admitted. “This fits with our earlier conversation about not quite knowing where we belong. My earliest memories are here, but after Simon’s family took me in, I made only occasional visits. It feels like Uncle William’s home. He grew up here, he and Aunt Anna married here. I feel like a visitor.”

  “Is that because you haven’t spent much time at Camden Keep, or because you don’t feel worthy of being the owner?” she asked softly.

  He felt as if sh
e’d punched him in the midriff. What would his father, a naval hero, think of his dishonored son? Would his father think Lucas was worthy of the family title and fortune? Impossible to guess. His father had spent so much time at sea that Lucas hadn’t known him well.

  Frowning, he said, “You have a gift for difficult questions. Let me ask you one. Did Denshire Park feel like your home? Do you miss your life there?”

  She was silent for a dozen steps as they crossed the yard to the stables. “I was comfortable there. I felt it was Christopher’s home and I was his steward, doing all in my power to secure it for his future. I vaguely thought I might live there as an elderly dowager with my grandchildren around my knees as I told them stories about their father’s childhood.”

  “It’s a good dream,” Lucas said quietly. “It could still happen.”

  She sighed. “My future is too uncertain for dreaming. Let us speak of more interesting things. Tell me about mules. Did you ride one as a matter of friarly humility?”

  “That’s an insult to mules,” he said, smiling a little.

  “They aren’t as pretty as horses and they aren’t as fast, but they have endless stamina and they’re more intelligent. They’re very admirable and every bit as good as horses. Just different.”

  “How did you acquire the Magdalene?”

  “A Belgian farmer and his family were heading to market when their wagon slid off the road and several of them were seriously injured. Frère Emmanuel and I were nearby, so we were summoned to help. We splinted the injuries and cared for the family for the next fortnight. We told the farmer that no payment was necessary, but he wanted to do something so he offered his old mule. He said she was too worn down for heavy farmwork, but she might prove useful to us.”

  “He was obviously right,” Kendra said with an enchanting smile. With her exquisite fair complexion, she was lovely in black.

  He reminded himself to reply to her comment. “Frère Emmanuel had a mule named Caesar that had carried him faithfully for years, so this mule became mine. She had been called nothing but ‘Mule.’ I thought she deserved a grander name, so I christened her the Magdalene. She was in poor condition when the farmer gave her to us, but with time and care she improved considerably.” Lucas had used some of his special healing ability on her and learned that it worked for animals as well as people.

  Kendra laughed. “I hope she appreciated the pampering.”

  “She seems to.” They entered the stables and Lucas headed toward the back corner. When he saw a groom, he asked, “How is the Magdalene doing, Harris?”

  “Well, sir.” The young man bobbed his head politely.

  “She feels the cold more these days so I brought her in for the night. She’s in her usual box.”

  As the groom headed outside, Lucas murmured, “You see how she inspires protectiveness. There she is, in the loose box in the corner.”

  The interior of the stables was shadowy, but the white mule in the loose box was unmistakable. Recognizing Lucas, she raised her head and trumpeted a greeting that was something between a whinny and a bray.

  “Kendra Douglas, may I present the Magdalene?” Lucas said with tongue-in-cheek formality. He opened the door and stepped into the loose box. The Magdalene was floppy-eared and ungainly in the way of mules, with great liquid eyes that seemed to hold the wisdom of the ages. As she gave him an affectionate head butt, he said, “Yes, old girl, I’m glad to see you, too.”

  “She’s large for a mule, isn’t she?” Kendra observed.

  “Yes, my guess is that her dam was a draft horse.” Using both hands, Lucas scratched her scruffy mane fondly. If the Magdalene had been a cat, she’d have purred at the attention. “Wherever we went, children wanted to ride her. Three or four could fit on her back at once if they were small. She was always very gentle and patient with them.”

  Kendra entered the loose box, cooing, “Aren’t you the pretty girl? Those great floppy ears are quite adorable.”

  “They make horse ears look rather undersized,” Lucas agreed with a smile.

  “She’s a big mule with a big personality.” Kendra curved her fingers to scratch through the coarse white hair. The Magdalene gave a happy bray and swept her head to one side so energetically that she knocked Kendra backward.

  As Kendra lost her balance, Lucas stepped forward and caught her from behind. She fell against him . . . and for an instant the world stopped.

  Kendra had held his arm when they walked and had wept in his arms, but they hadn’t touched like this before. She was pressed full length against him, all warm feminine curves and subtle, provocative scent. The contact was intimate and deeply arousing.

  Almost against his will, his hands skimmed down her arms to her waist. He felt the pulse of her blood through the layers of her clothing. There was a long moment of absolute silence. Then she turned in his grasp and looked up at him, her changeable eyes intense. Their gazes met and he knew that she saw him as he saw her.

  He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d held a woman close, and he was hungry, so hungry. Moving with infinite care, he bent into a kiss, giving her time to move away. She didn’t. Instead, she leaned into him, her arms going around his neck, and in the warm depths of her mouth he found a hunger that matched his own. She tasted sweet, so sweet, as they explored each other.

  Tension and desire were rising, mutual and urgent. He’d been alone so long. Now he wanted to be this close to her forever, to follow this passion to its natural conclusion. It was madness, but a madness that brought him fully alive.

  Yet though he’d dishonored his word, he was still a gentleman, and he told himself he must let her go. He must.

  His resolve was aided by the Magdalene, who brayed and bumped her head between them, knocking them both back on their heels. Lucas gave an unsteady laugh and pulled away, still supporting Kendra, but the kiss over. “I always knew the Magdalene was a wise old soul.”

  Kendra smiled ruefully. “Wiser than we are, obviously.” She brushed hair from her face as she tried to compose herself. “I’ve been wondering what it would be like to kiss you, and now I know. Unfortunately, I want to do it again.”

  “I could become addicted to your kisses.” He gently brushed the back of his hand down her cheek. Soft, so soft. “I’m reminding myself of all the reasons it’s a bad idea. Rather than ride with you in the carriage, I’ll borrow a horse from the stables here and ride alongside for the last leg of our journey.”

  “It will probably rain. Much more comfortable to be in a carriage.”

  When he hesitated, she continued, “We’re adults. We should be capable of keeping our hands off each other.”

  “We’re capable of it, but will we want to?”

  “No, but we’ll do it.” Her expression sobered and he saw bleak acceptance replace the teasing warmth in her eyes. Her situation was so difficult that it would take a miracle to resolve it in a satisfactory way.

  Luckily, he believed in miracles.

  CHAPTER 16

  The rest of Kendra’s stay at Camden Keep was entirely respectable, with no impropriety on the part of her or Lucas. They were invited to stay again on their return trip. Perhaps by then Kendra would be able to talk about the purpose of this journey.

  The next morning they set out in their carriage for Little Dauntrey, which was about half a day’s travel to the west. Lucas sat facing her, his long legs carefully angled away from her. All very proper.

  But she would cherish the memory of the previous day’s hot, sweet kiss forever. She couldn’t see an honorable future for them, so she refused to believe they would ever exchange more such kisses in the future. She didn’t have enough hope in her to think it possible. Fortunately, her memory was very, very good.

  At midday, they stopped for a meal in Great Dauntrey. After they ate, Lucas took the map he’d borrowed from Simon, and Kendra joined in a conference with the landlord. Lucas said, “Is there a village called Little Dauntrey near here?”

  The landlor
d, a solid fellow with grizzled hair, replied, “No, but there’s a Lower Dauntrey not far from here. Might that be the place?”

  Kendra considered, thinking back to the pained confusion of that nightmare journey. “It could be. I’m reasonably sure about the Dauntrey, but it could have been Lower, not Little. Is there an inn called the Red Lion?”

  The landlord nodded. “Aye. It changed hands two or three years ago but the name is the same.”

  After the route had been determined, Kendra accompanied Lucas out to the carriage and they set off again. She had to force herself to unclench her hands as they drove along. Now that she was so close to learning the fate of her lost child, the stress was almost unbearable.

  It wasn’t actually raining, but the gray sky and lowering clouds were threatening. Fitting weather for the day. Gazing out the window, she said, “Even though the inn has changed hands, perhaps there will be longtime employees who might remember what happened.”

  “We’ll find someone who knows what happened that day,” Lucas said calmly. “We’ll stay as long as it takes.”

  Another hour of driving along a lane that was more track than road brought them to a scattering of houses, the outskirts of Lower Dauntrey. He asked, “Does this look familiar, Kendra?”

  “Perhaps.” She tried to imagine the village covered with blowing snow. “I was in too much pain to remember much.”

  “The landlord said the Red Lion is at the other end of the high street.”

  Kendra caught her breath as the parish church came into view. “This is the place! I remember the church tower. Round at the bottom, hexagonal at top. I’ve never seen another like it. I sent a few confused prayers in its direction.”

  “Let’s stop and see if we can look at the parish register,” Lucas suggested. “Births in the village should be recorded here.”

  “Would there be a record of children born here even if the mother was just passing through?” she asked uncertainly.

  “Perhaps. Registers vary in the amount of detail listed depending on the person keeping the records.” Lucas signaled their coachman to stop in front of the church. A weathered sign said it was called Saint Mary of the Fields. The building was small and obviously very old, but it had an air of peace, and the churchyard was well kept.

 

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