"Because it has fallen to you—whether you want it or not." She brushed his hair off his brow. "I don't believe you are a man who would turn aside from his duties."
With a deep sigh, he lay down beside her and drew her against his side, holding her in place while his hand idly stroked her arm. "I would if you would let me."
"No you wouldn't."
"What if you weren't barren?" he asked. "Would you give up your duke for an earl?"
"No," she said quietly, and felt the disappointment travel through his body. She lifted herself slightly so she could gaze into his eyes. "I would give him up for you."
With a low growl, he slammed his eyes closed and held her more tightly. "Is there any chance that you're not?"
"I don't see how there could be. The old Sachse had a son. He frequented my bed often and never got me with child."
"But he got the first countess pregnant only once. Perhaps something happened to his seed."
She hesitated but forced herself to admit, "I don't think so. Besides, as much as you and I have been together, I would think that if the possibility existed, I would be with child now."
"So all we will ever have is this? Sneaking into your room in the dead of night—"
"You hardly sneaked tonight."
"I was in torment, seeing you with Kingsbridge."
"You seem to get along well with his daughter."
"I was simply being a good host."
"She's rather pretty and nice. She would make a good wife."
"The last thing I want is to marry into the same family as you, so our paths would cross constantly. It would be pure torture."
"It would give us an opportunity to be together. I know some ladies of the aristocracy who openly travel with their lovers, while their husbands do the same. I consider them very enlightened and modern couples."
The silence eased between them, and she wondered if he was pondering the possibilities that might exist if he were married to the daughter of her husband.
"I won't be unfaithful to my wife, Camilla," he finally said quietly.
Disappointment rammed into her, even as gladness swept through her. She'd known he'd feel that way. She rose up and looked down into his eyes. "Then, yes, all we'll ever have is this time before one of us marries."
"Then we'd best make the most of it, hadn't we?"
And he proceeded to do exactly that.
* * *
Chapter 19
"Father seems rather enamored of Lady Sachse."
Forcing his attention away from where Camilla sat on a bench beside the Duke of Kingsbridge, who was reading from a book of poetry he'd borrowed from the library earlier, Arch smiled at Lady Alice. "I can hardly blame him."
She tapped the croquet ball lightly and looked over her shoulder at him. "Because you are equally intrigued with her?"
"Are my affections so apparent?"
She nodded. She was a lovely girl, and he couldn't for the life of him determine why he wasn't more interested in her. "I assure you that Lady Sachse has no interest in me."
"She may have no interest in marrying you, but I assure you that she has an interest in you."
"Well, that interest will cease once she is secure in another man's keeping, so you need have no fear that I would infringe upon your father's territory should his interest in spending time with Lady Sachse go beyond the reading of poetry."
"I know it's not polite to speak ill of the dead, but my father didn't much care for the old Sachse."
"I don't think many thought much of the old earl."
"Do you like being earl?"
"Not particularly. Although it does have the advantage of bringing you into my life."
He despised the words the moment they were uttered. They sounded so incredibly insincere. Lady Alice's laughter echoed around him, like tinkling bells rung at Christmas.
"You're catching on to the flirtatious ways of the aristocracy," she said, warmth in her voice and her smile.
"You'd best take care not to encourage me overmuch. I thought my sentiment sounded rather silly."
"Because you're a man. I daresay any lady would be flattered with your attentions."
"You are kind to think so."
"Perhaps it is none of my affair, but why is Lady Sachse not more interested in you?"
"Because I need an heir, and she believes herself to be barren."
Lady Alice blushed, and Arch swore beneath his breath. She was all of nineteen, hardly knowledgeable in the ways of the world. She probably thought babies were found in cabbage patches. "My apologies—"
"Oh, no." She held up a hand. "I am well aware of the importance of an heir. Father has already seen to that duty. I think it a shame that it is considered as such, but that is the way of things, is it not?"
"I seek more than that from a wife."
"Then your wife will be most fortunate."
She peered up at him, and he almost could convince himself that he saw hope within her eyes.
He held up his mallet. "I have no skill with this game. Perhaps you would find a walk through the gardens more to your liking."
Her smile blossomed. "I would indeed."
And perhaps if they walked far enough, he could forget that Camilla existed.
Camilla watched as Archie and Lady Alice walked arm in arm toward the elaborate water gardens that her husband had taken a fancy to and had his gardeners build. There were ponds stocked with large fish with golden scales that made them quite visible. At places, water cascaded over stones, imitating small waterfalls. The greenery was lush, the vegetation thick, and she could well imagine that a gentleman might manage to sneak a kiss or two without being spotted.
"You've lost interest in the poetry, my lady."
She snapped her attention back to the duke. "Oh, no, Your Grace. I was simply admiring"—she swallowed hard to force the words out—"how splendid a couple your daughter and Lord Sachse appeared to be."
"I was just noticing that myself. As they are both young, perhaps we should take a stroll ourselves."
She'd never felt as old as she did at that moment. "Lord Sachse would never take advantage of a guest."
"What young men intend and what happens are not always the same. Come." He stood and extended a hand. "Let's make sure they're not up to a bit of tomfoolery."
She could hardly refuse when the request came from a duke. At least that was the reasoning she used to convince herself that her actions weren't mitigated by a deep desire to make certain that Archie wasn't kissing the lovely Lady Alice.
She placed her hand on his arm and allowed him to escort her toward the water gardens. While she thought she'd been an exemplary hostess, giving attention to everyone, she also thought it was quite evident with whom her interests truly lay. She and the duke had managed to spend quite a bit of time together.
And she was fairly certain that when he returned to his estate, he would be leaving behind the woman who was to become his wife.
She'd outdone herself.
Arch couldn't help but be amazed. Camilla had somehow managed to get a full orchestra there. The mirrored ballroom was filled with flowers. Chandeliers sparkled. Everyone was dressed as elaborately as though they were in London.
He wanted to dance with her, of course, and she'd reserved a place for him on her dance card near the end of the evening. It was torment to wait, torment to watch her swirl around the dance floor with partner after partner.
There was no doubt that tonight was her night to shine. Compliments were lavishly given, and he had to admit they were deserved. Every one of them.
Every guest had nothing but praise to offer, each one had enjoyed himself or herself. Every meal had been perfect, every entertainment enjoyable.
He was fairly certain that any disappointment she would have felt because he didn't believe he could embrace any woman presented to him as a potential wife would be overshadowed by her joy that she might have effectively snagged the attention of Kingsbridge.
H
e wanted her to be happy, he truly did. But damn it all, he wanted her happiness to be with him.
He stood off to the side, watching her dance with Harrington. She looked lovely beyond compare in a ball gown of the palest green. It shimmered beneath the chandeliers.
"Sachse."
He turned to Kingsbridge. "Duke."
"I was wondering if I might have a word with you… in private."
"In another few dances, I will partner with Camilla. I would so hate to miss that dance." He knew he shouldn't have said it, knew he should have pretended that none of this mattered.
"It won't take us long, and what I have to say concerns her."
"Will my library suffice?"
"Very nicely… if it has a liquor cabinet in it."
As a matter of fact it did, and once they were safely ensconced inside with the door closed, Arch poured them each a generous glass of bourbon. After handing Kingsbridge his glass, Arch moved to stand beside the fireplace. He knew he was being an ungracious host but had a feeling he wasn't going to welcome what it was that Kingsbridge wished to discuss.
Kingsbridge cleared his throat several times. Took a sip. Cleared it again, and Arch realized the man was nervous. He took pity on him.
"Would you care to sit, Your Grace?"
"Yes, I would." He sat in one chair near the fireplace, and Arch sat in the other.
The duke released a long sigh. "I feel too old for this. Still it must be done. You strike me as an intelligent man, Sachse, so I daresay, it's not missed your notice that my attention has been on Lady Sachse since we arrived."
"I had indeed noticed, Your Grace."
"Splendid. Then it should come as no surprise to you that I wish to marry her."
No surprise at all. Still Arch felt as though the duke had picked up a poker, stuck it in the fire until it burned red-hot, and thrust it through Arch's heart. He got up and returned to the place he'd originally taken beside the fireplace and stared at the flames rather than the duke because he was no good at the games the aristocrats played, and he knew he couldn't hide his true feelings on the matter. For Camilla's sake he didn't want the duke to know what they were.
"Have you asked her?" he asked quietly.
"Indeed I did. This afternoon in the garden. She's quite agreeable to the idea. As you are the closest thing she has to a male relation, I thought I should seek your permission as well."
He turned to face the duke because this he could say in all honesty. "If marriage to you is what she wants, then you have my permission and my blessings."
The duke came to his feet, suddenly looking much younger. "Splendid: Yes, indeed. Splendid. You'd think a man of my age and standing wouldn't be so nervous about so simple a matter."
"I appreciate that you were. It lets me know that you care for her. My predecessor left nothing to her. She was too young and naive when she married him and had no one to look after her welfare. I will insist that we come to terms on an agreeable settlement, so she'll have no reason to regret her marriage to you."
"I'll notify my solicitors in London to immediately get together with yours. I daresay, it shan't take much work as I, too, wish to see that she is provided for. I'm not as young as I once was, and I wouldn't want her left with nothing."
"Then we're in agreement that her welfare and happiness comes first."
"Indeed we are."
Arch lifted his glass in a salute. "Then I wish you the best."
* * *
Dressed only in her nightclothes, Camilla walked into the library, relief mingled with annoyance going through her at the sight of Archie sprawled in a chair before the fireplace. She didn't know when he left the ballroom, but he hadn't been there for her dance. She'd been looking forward to it so much. He'd not been around when the guests had been drifting back to their rooms.
But Kingsbridge had been. He'd danced with her over and over, even though it wasn't proper, and he'd been in the jolliest of moods.
"There you are. I've been looking all over for you."
He lifted his gaze and squinted as though he couldn't quite make out who she was. "Have you?"
His words were slurred, a glass dangling from his hand threatening to spill the last drops of its contents onto the rug. She snatched it away and set it on a nearby table.
"You're foxed."
"Quite so. An inordinate amount of drink dulls the pain." He shook his head. "Or at least it's supposed to. It's not working. Pour me some more, will you, darling?"
Her heart squeezed at the endearment. She knelt before him. "I thought you would come see me tonight. In my bedchamber. I've been waiting."
Reaching out, he tiptoed his fingers around her face. "Kingsbridge and I had a duke to earl talk earlier. Seems he wishes to make you his wife. He asked for my blessing."
"Did you give it?"
"How could I not when I want nothing more than to see you happy?"
Tears stung her eyes, and her chest ached as she rested her head on his knees. This moment should have been the happiest of her life, but as he threaded his fingers through her hair, she thought she'd never known such misery. What must it have cost him to bless her union with another man?
She lifted her face to his, wishing she hadn't, wishing she couldn't see the tears in his eyes. "I will be happy with him," she assured him.
He gave her a sad smile as he touched the corner of her mouth, where her own tears pooled. "He seems to be a good man. I could have chosen no better for you."
Unless it was himself, and that was impossible. When the duke had asked her in the garden if she would marry him, she'd not hesitated to give a resounding yes, not because she truly wanted to marry the duke, but because she had to take measures to ensure that she was no longer available to Archie. He had to take a wife. He had to have an heir.
They were both becoming too comfortable with the arrangement. They would forever find excuses to put off the inevitable. He continually found fault with every woman, and she was beginning to suspect it was because he held out hope that by some miracle his seed would indeed take root within her. But she knew that he'd poured enough into her that if it hadn't taken root by now, it never would.
She had no hope of ever giving him a child, much less an heir. Her womb was as barren as her heart had once been. He'd filled her heart, and his love had taken root there. For her, that was a miracle, that in spite of all her imperfections and flaws, he'd still come to love her.
"Give me one more night, Archie."
"One more," he whispered, "but not tonight. I've almost drunk myself into oblivion. I want a last night with you that I will remember."
She laid her cheek on his lap, turned her head to stare into the fire. His hand came to rest on her hair. She thought of all the stories he'd read to her. So few had happy endings… most were bittersweet or sad.
But at least with him, she'd had happiness. For a short while, but it was enough to carry her through the remainder of her life.
Once all their guests had taken their leave that morning, Archie had advised Camilla to dress as though they were going to a ball put on by royalty. And she'd spent most of the late afternoon doing exactly that. She based each selection on what she thought he would find most pleasing. She'd never before dedicated every aspect of her appearance to a man's pleasure, yet she found herself doing exactly that.
She selected an ivory gown with a long, flowing train trimmed with tiny red roses. The square neck revealed the barest hint of cleavage, to entice him, and she placed a drop of perfume between her breasts. Her coiffure was topped with a heron's feather aigrette and one red rose. She wore dainty earrings and a simple necklace. She considered not wearing gloves, but since she didn't know exactly what he had in mind, she couldn't dismiss the possibility that he was in fact taking her to a ball.
Still she'd hoped for a special evening that included only the two of them. A final night together, as he'd said, to remember.
Although she'd begun to wonder if she'd ever be ready. Frannie
had been unusually clumsy this evening, having to start over on her hair several times until she'd finally managed to get it to stay up. Camilla had almost lost patience, but she'd bitten back unkind remarks because she'd not wanted anything to ruin the evening, and usually Frannie was so adept at getting her ready. She hoped Frannie was not about to take ill.
"You look so lovely, my lady," Frannie said, as she adjusted the train.
"Thank you, Frannie."
"The earl will be most pleased."
She couldn't very well admit that she hoped so. Whatever would her lady's maid think of her then, when word had undoubtedly already spread that she was to marry a duke. But still she did hope that the earl would be pleased.
As she left her room, she couldn't quite believe how much she was looking forward to the evening. She and Arch had done numerous things together, but it had never been with this expectation: that what they were doing was for each other, and each other alone.
She walked down the grand, marble, sweeping staircase, more pleased than she could show that he was waiting for her. Apparently, he, too, had gone to great pains to dress as though he was going to attend a royal ball. He was wearing a black, swallow-tailed coat over a dark burgundy waistcoat and white shirt. His silver-colored cravat set it all off perfectly. As he stood there smiling at her, she knew beyond any doubt that he was the most handsome she'd ever known, the most regal earl. At that moment, she thought he could pass for a king.
As she neared, he held his gloved hand out to her, and she placed hers within his.
"You're so beautiful," he said quietly. "And for tonight you will be mine."
"Where are we going?" she asked, surprised to find that she sounded so breathless. But he had that power. To steal her breath and just as quickly to return it.
He carried her hand to his lips, and even through the glove, she could feel the warmth of his kiss against her fingers as he held her gaze, and promised, "Not far."
He wrapped his arm around hers, and she felt as though she were a vine, clinging for support.
As an Earl Desires Page 19