Song Of The Nightingale (DeWinter's Song 1)

by Constance O'Banyon

  She lowered her head. “I cannot marry any man, your grace.”

  He raised her chin. “Why is that?”

  “There are reasons that are mine alone.”

  He saw a tear roll onto the tip of her long lash. “May I inquire what those reasons are?”

  She met his eyes, deciding to be truthful with him. “I ... am soiled.” She turned her head away from him. “No man would want me for his wife.”

  Raile was silent for a moment. “You have been with a lover?”

  She refused to meet his eyes, so great was her shame. “No, not a lover.” Her voice faltered. “I... did not willingly . . . give myself to any man. It happened while I was at Newgate.” She stopped to catch her breath. “One of the guards, the one who threatened to sell me to a brothel, he ... I was unconscious at the time, and am grateful that I have no memory of the incident.”

  Raile closed his eyes, feeling her shame as if it were his own. He hated to ask, but he had to know: “Are you certain you are not with child?”

  Shame stained her cheeks. Such a thought had never entered her mind. “Of course I am not.”

  “You don’t need to say any more, Miss Maragon.”

  “I have told no one about this, not even Aunt Mary. I would not have told you, except you needed to know why I cannot marry you.”

  “Is this the only reason you refuse to be my wife?”

  She looked into deep compassionate eyes, wishing she could rest her weary head against his broad shoulders. “It is surely reason enough, your grace.”

  “It does not deter me, Miss Maragon.”

  “How could you want me after—“

  “Perhaps I should explain to you what I require in a wife. You see, the prince has virtually ordered me to marry.”

  At that moment the door was pushed open and Gabrielle entered. “Raile, would you send me away without a by-your-leave?”

  Kassidy stared at the beautiful woman in a shimmering gold gown, wondering who she could be.

  There was irritation in Raile’s voice. “I’ll call on you tomorrow, Gabrielle. As you can see, I am otherwise occupied at the moment.”

  Gabrielle glanced at the ragtag girl and mistook her for a servant. “If you find your domestic help more fascinating than me, then I shall allow Lord Justin to drive me home.”

  Gabrielle had hoped to make Raile jealous, but he merely took her elbow and guided her to the door, “Yes, you do that, Gabrielle.”

  When he had closed the door behind Gabrielle, he returned to Kassidy. “Forgive the interruption.” He sat down, his eyes reflective. “Now where were we?”

  “That woman was very beautiful.”

  “Gabrielle. Yes, I suppose she is.”

  “You must love her?”

  “Miss Maragon, can you forget about her and allow us to go on with our conversation?” It was apparent he was losing patience with her. “I have asked you repeatedly to be my wife—and repeatedly you have refused.”

  “Then why do you keep asking when my answer is always the same?”

  “Damned if I know,” he said, his voice full of irritation. “I suppose it’s because more than anything, I want a son. I’ll make the offer to you only this one last time, and then I shall never ask you again.”

  “If you want only a son, there are any number of women you could marry. The one who just left here seemed genuinely fond of you.”

  In his aggravation, Raile forgot to be discreet. “Miss Maragon, one does not marry a woman like Gabrielle Candeur.”

  Kassidy’s mouth flew open. “She is your . . . mistress!”

  “Miss Maragon, let me say this to you so you will better understand. My mother’s family was in trade. And while she brought enormous wealth to the DeWinter family, she was never accepted by the nobility. Each time she was hurt by them, I was hurt for her. I will not have a wife unworthy of being the duchess of Ravenworth.”

  “Oh.”

  “Also, I have no desire to have my life interfered with by a wife who would make demands on my time. Between us, there will be no illusions. I don’t love you, and you don’t love me. Ours could be an amiable union. My one goal is to restore Ravenworth Castle to its former glory. I believe that you would not demand attention and take me away from my work.”

  “What would be your demands on a wife?” Kassidy could not help but ask.

  “I would require very little from you. I would allow you a free hand with money, so you would want for nothing. You can, if you like, live most of the year in my town house here in London—or if you like, with your aunt. I would, of course, eventually expect you to present me with an heir.”

  She couldn’t keep from smiling. “What would happen, your grace, if your practical plans went awry and your wife should present you with a daughter instead of a son?”

  “If such were the case, I would require her to bear my children until she produced a son,” he said seriously.

  Her tone was mocking. “Quite a prize offering to become your brood mare.”

  For a moment, a look of disbelief crossed Raile’s face. After all, was he not offering her a title, money, and freedom? “Don’t be too hasty in turning down my offer.” A slight smile twisted his lips. “You should know that my brood mares receive the very best of care from me.”

  “A great recommendation to a future bride,” she said dryly.

  “I should make it clear to you so there will be no mistake—I will never love you, Miss Maragon.” His eyes bore into hers to drive home the truth. “But if you don’t expect affection, you’ll find me an admirable husband. After you have produced a male heir, I will not prevent you from seeking . . . affection . . . elsewhere, if you do it in a discreet manner.”

  Kassidy opened her mouth to speak, and her voice came out in a rush of amazement. “You would not mind a wife having an affair of the heart? Does this also mean that you would feel free to take a mistress after marriage?”

  “Since we are speaking frankly, I would not like such an arrangement. I place no importance on love at all.”

  “I think, your grace, that you have the most amazing view of marriage.”

  “I believe in candor.”

  “But not decorum.”

  He smiled. “Your sharp tongue may make me reconsider my proposal.”

  “Perhaps you would want a dimwit for a wife,” Kassidy said scornfully.

  He studied her carefully. “I think not. I bore very easily.”

  Kassidy considered his proposal for a moment. If she became the duke’s wife, Henry would no longer have any hold over her. After what had happened tonight, she was more frightened of her brother than ever. Also, she must consider Arrian. With the duke’s help, she would be able to provide her niece with a good home.

  “Before you reject my offer again, Miss Maragon, let me tell you of the arrangements I am prepared to make concerning the baby. Upon our marriage, I will settle on her the amount of one hundred thousand pounds. I would triple that amount to you the day you present me with an heir.”

  “It seems important to you that you have a son.”

  His eyes grew cold, and he seemed to look right through her. “Having a son means everything to me.” A slight smile softened his features. “To make the offer more tempting to you, I will allow you to regain your strength for the period of one year before I would ask you to become a true wife to me.”

  “One year before you would ...”

  “Claim you for my wife,” he finished for her.

  A year was a long time, and many things could happen. To have the freedom of a married woman with none of the demands was all she desired at the moment. And yet, something stirred in her—something like excitement at the thought of giving this man his son.

  “On considering all the aspects, your grace, my answer is yes. I am willing to play cards with the devil himself, if it will get me what I want.”

  He could not help but smile at her casting him in the role of the devil. “What is it you want, Miss Maragon?”
/>
  “I want to be able to raise my sister’s daughter and live my life in relative comfort.”

  He nodded with assurance, as if he had known he could bend her to his will. “An admirable decision, for an admirable reason.” As an afterthought, Raile took her hand and brushed it with his lips. “I will leave all the details to you and your aunt. I do request, however, that the ceremony be a small one and take place as soon as possible. I have been away from Ravenworth Castle far too long as it is.” He stood up. “I will make arrangements to transport you to your aunt’s residence at once.” He smiled. “Kassidy.”

  “And you are Raile.”

  He took her hand and led her to the door. “There is a carriage standing by that will take you to Lady Mary. If you have no objections, I’ll call on you tomorrow and we shall finalize our wedding plans.”

  The wedding would take place three days hence, and as the day grew near, Kassidy’s apprehension intensified.

  Each day gifts would arrive from her future husband, and she was touched by Raile’s generosity. Her upstairs bedroom had been filled with flowers from his greenhouse, and when there was no more space in the bedroom, the bounty of flowers spilled over into other rooms in the house. The sweetest gift Kassidy received from her husband-to-be came on the eve before the wedding.

  Kassidy’s aunt and uncle had gone out and she had been alone in the sitting room when the butler announced Oliver Stewart. Oliver came in and placed the sleeping Arrian in Kassidy’s arms. She cried and hugged the precious baby to her while she looked at the valet with gratitude.

  “Oh, thank you, Oliver. I was so afraid I would never see her again.”

  “It wasn’t any trouble,” Oliver said, pleased that he had made her happy. “I have a message from his grace. I’m to tell you that he has instructed his solicitor to have several qualified wet nurses sent around for you to interview in the morning. He assures me that their credentials will be impeccable and you need not worry that this will ever happen again.”

  Kassidy nestled the sleeping child against her breast. “His grace has a way of making things happen, Oliver.”

  “Indeed he does, Miss Maragon. I have never seen him speak that others didn’t listen. I was also to tell you his grace got your brother’s consent to the marriage”

  “Tell him . . . that he has my eternal gratitude,” she said, flooded with relief.

  Oliver moved to the door, his hat in hand. “I’ll relay your message to him this very night, Miss Maragon.”

  The little man stopped at the door as if he had something else on his mind, so Kassidy looked at him expectantly.

  “Miss Maragon, I just want to say how glad I am . . . we are that you are going to be our duchess.”

  Kassidy smiled at the valet as he nervously twisted his hat. “Thank you, Oliver.”

  She was filled with relief and happiness as she moved up the stairs with the sleeping child in her arms. No one would ever take Arrian away from her again, she vowed.

  21

  The sun rose brilliantly on Kassidy’s wedding day. She climbed out of bed and moved to the window, watching the splash of dazzling colors reflecting against the eastern sky. How strange it felt to know her whole life would be changed forever today. There was neither elation nor sadness in her heart, merely a resigned conviction that she was doing the right thing.

  She turned to the mirror, wondering if she would ever be pretty again. She looked too frail to be a bride. Her hair was so straight and straw-like, and there was no color to her face. She wished she could have been beautiful today.

  When she was dressed, Kassidy admired the frothy white empire gown her aunt had given her. It hung in delicate folds to the floor and had a border of elaborate embroidery above the hem. Unfortunately, the color did little to brighten her already pale skin.

  Blue forget-me-nots were woven through her hair that was simply arranged in a low coil at the back of her head, and short curls fringed across her forehead.

  “Are you certain you want to do this?” Lady Mary asked. “It’s not too late to withdraw your consent.”

  “I will marry him.”

  “I think perhaps you are marrying the right man, for the wrong reasons. You want security for Arrian, while he wants a wife who will be as little trouble to him as possible.”

  “I don’t intend to be any trouble to him. He’ll remain at Ravenworth as he promised, and I’ll be here in London.”

  Lady Mary smiled to herself. Knowing her niece’s impassioned nature, she doubted their arrangement would last for one year.

  “I look so dreadful,” Kassidy observed, pinching her cheeks to bring more color to her face. Kassidy caught her aunt’s eyes in the mirror. “I look plain, Aunt Mary.” She added without conceit, “I always thought I was passingly pretty, but not any longer.”

  “It’s the fever, dearest. When you are fully recovered from your illness, you will recover your beauty.” Lady Mary smiled, thinking how surprised Raile would be when he learned he not only married a beauty, but he would have a wife who would never be docile. It wouldn’t take Kassidy long to turn the duke’s world upside down.

  “It’s time to go below, dearest,” Lady Mary said, fastening a strand of pearls about Kassidy’s neck. “The minister arrived some time ago, and your bridegroom has been here this past hour.”

  Suddenly Kassidy’s eyes widened with panic. “I wish I hadn’t agreed to this.”

  “Just remember who you are, Kassidy. And remember that when the ceremony is ended, his grace will go off to the country and you will remain with me.”

  Kassidy drew in a deep breath. “I’m ready.”

  “By the way, I had a letter from Henry.”

  Kassidy stopped in her tracks. “What did he say?”

  “He was very impressed with the match and wishes you happiness. He even sent a wedding present.” Lady Mary smiled. “I’m telling you this to lighten your mood.”

  “What is the gift?”

  “A portrait of Henry, himself.”

  Kassidy and her aunt laughed until at last Lady Mary held up her hand. “Don’t think about Henry anymore today.”

  “I shan’t think of him ever again.”

  Leaning heavily on her aunt, Kassidy slowly descended the stairs. She faltered only once, and that was at the door where the ceremony would take place.

  Upon entering the drawing room, she smiled warmly at her uncle and nodded to Reverend Wheatly. She then turned her attention to the man who was to be her husband.

  He wore long blue trousers and a double-breasted waistcoat that fit snugly across his broad shoulders. The frilled shirt was enhanced by the cravat that formed a soft falling bow at the throat. There was about him an air of arrogance and mystery. He was indeed handsome, and she still wondered why he wanted to marry her.

  Raile nodded at Kassidy briskly and moved forward to offer her his arm. “Shall we?”

  The hand that she placed on his arm trembled. She walked beside him, feeling as if she was about to spend her life under this man’s control. Sudden panic almost choked off her breathing and she had the strongest urge to run upstairs to the safety of her bedroom.

  Raile glanced into tragic green eyes and wished there was something he could say that would reassure her that she would be safe with him. He dipped his head and whispered so only she could hear. “I give you leave to change your mind if you desire, but I would beseech you to have me.”

  Kassidy looked into eyes that danced with humor and felt the tension leave her. “I gave my word, and I’ll not go back on it, your grace.”

  Raile motioned the minister forward. Reverend Wheatly was tall and stately and very aware of his duty. He recited with feeling, the age-old words that ultimately bound a man and woman together in a lifetime of devotion.

  Raile replied to Reverend Wheatly in deep, even tones while Kassidy stumbled over the words love, honor, until death do us part.

  She stood in stunned silence while Reverend Wheatly congratulated Raile an
d wished her happiness. “Dwell with God, your grace, and happiness will always find you,” he said to Kassidy. “May you both have a long life together, and may your union be blessed with many children.”

  Sudden weakness washed over Kassidy, and she clutched at her new husband’s arm. Seeing how pale Kassidy was, Raile lifted her in his arms.

  “I believe my bride should be put to bed,” he said, looking down at her in distress.

  Her aunt led him quickly out of the room, while Lord George was left to deal with Reverend Wheatly.

  “This way to her bedroom,” Lady Mary said, hurriedly leading the way upstairs.

  Raile glanced down at Kassidy, noticing the dark circles under her eyes and the shallowness of her breathing. He could feel the heat of her fever through his coat.

  “Don’t fret, little one,” he told her, “I’ll take care of you now. Put all of your troubles in my hands.”

  She pressed her cheek against the roughness of his coat, feeling as if he would bear all her troubles on his strong shoulders. With contentment, she closed her eyes, too weary to think.

  Lady Mary rushed ahead of them and opened the bedroom door. The bed had already been turned down, so Raile gently placed Kassidy among the soft covers before he turned to Lady Mary.

  “She seems very weak. I will send my doctor around to examine her.”

  “The fever recurs. The doctor assures me it will soon pass.”

  “As you wish.”

  Lady Mary glanced down at Kassidy, who had closed her eyes. “I will leave you with her for a moment. But I would suggest you not remain too long.” She quietly left the room so the newly married couple could be alone.

  Raile gently raised Kassidy up and unfastened her gown. When she felt his hands on her back, her eyes opened and she struggled against him. “No—no,” she moaned.

  “Don’t fret. All I’m doing is making you comfortable.” He took her chin and forced her to look at him. “I have that right now, Kassidy. We are married.”

  The ordeal of the wedding seemed to have robbed her of her strength. Too weary to protest, she allowed him to undress her. With expert hands, he removed her gown. Impersonally, he reached for the nightgown at the foot of her bed and pulled it over her head. He then laid her back against the pillow and tied the satin bow at her throat.