Price of Desire

by Lavinia Kent

  “Can we be married today?” She spoke the words into his mouth and he felt each one enter, lodging itself inside him.

  “Do you really want that? I thought you wanted to wait, to have the banns read properly. We could, you know. Without the threat of . . . of mourning. There’s no reason not to take a little time.”

  She didn’t answer, but just kept watching him.

  “Even if you are with child . . .” Of their own volition his hands moved up and circled her waist, his fingers spanning her belly, stroking with utmost tenderness. She flushed and looked away. He leaned forward and kissed her, just below her navel.

  “. . . even if you are with child a few weeks wait would not hurt. It can be an early baby.”

  She swallowed, hard. “Do you want to wait?” There was a tremor in her voice.

  “No.” He spoke firmly and with purpose. How could one word be so right? “I don’t know if the ceremony can be performed today, but I am sure it can be arranged for tomorrow. Will that satisfy you . . . my lady?” He whispered the last as he straightened and brought his lips against hers again, for the first time he could remember the word caused no pain. Lady. It was only a word.

  “Mmmm, I don’t know that I can wait so long.” She wiggled her hips against him and he felt his arousal grow. He pressed back, letting her know just how she affected him. He kissed her again, and then more deeply.

  Her one little sigh almost undid him as she wiggled again.

  A loud tap on the door startled them apart. Tris stepped in shutting the door behind him with a decisive click. He turned to the corner, facing away from them.

  “Damn you, Tris. I heard the knock . . . but damn you.”

  “I wanted to get here before anybody else. There’s been another incident, a fire in the nursery. They’ll be here in a moment looking for you, Lady Burberry. I thought I’d best . . . well, I’ll be going now.”

  He slipped out the door as if he’d never been there.

  Rose was on her feet, pulling up her bodice and shaking out her skirts. Her golden hair spun about her in an unruly cloud. “I’ve got to go . . . Anna. I have to find out if Anna is all right.”

  Wulf got to his feet. His own heart beat with the same worry, but he would not let her see. “I am sure she’s fine. Tris would have said something if she wasn’t and I am sure that . . .”

  As if his words had summoned them there was the sound of feet in the hall and then further pounding on the door.

  “My lady, you must come. My lady . . .” Matson’s voice cut through the door echoing about the room. Rose looked at her own disheveled state and then his. He could see her mind take in the situation and then dismiss it as unimportant, what mattered now was her, no their, child.

  She moved towards the door, unmindful of her hanging hair or the wrinkles that lined the back of her skirt.

  This he could do for her. He caught her hand pulling her briefly against him. “She is fine. I feel it here.” He placed her palm upon his heart. “Just say you fell asleep. After last night nobody will question that. I trust your sister to be discreet.”

  “My lady, are you in there?” The knob turned and he could sense Matson’s indecision. He grabbed the small key off the bedside table and held it up. She caught his eye and nodded, gesturing to her dressing room door.

  He flashed her one reassuring smile and headed to the dressing room and the servants’ stair. His feet sped down the tread, eager to reach the bottom and begin the long walk back up to the nursery.

  He slipped out the hidden door and headed towards the hallway.

  “Westlake’s already up there.” Tris sat beside the fireplace. His feet up and relaxed. He smiled wickedly at Wulf. “He claims some experience with fires. He was just about to leave when Nanny came rushing down. There was some difficulty finding Lady Burberry. She’s apparently never in her chamber during the day and the servants hadn’t bothered to check. If Marguerite hadn’t suggested that . . . I persuaded her to wait before spreading the word.”

  “I am in your debt, as seems to be becoming the latest trend. If you’ll excuse me.” Wulf finished his walk to the doorway and started down the hall to the front stair.

  Rose stood in the doorway of the nursery looking around her in dismay. While only the far corner bookcase had actually burned, the entire room was black with soot. The puddling water from the buckets that had put out the flames did nothing to calm her.

  She drew a deep breath, attempting a calm she was far from feeling. “Where is Anna?”

  The maid toweling the water looked up. “Nanny took her to wash. They should be back in a moment. Anna insists she wants to talk to Major Huntington.”

  “Talk to me?” Wulf swung into the room with an air of authority.

  “It was the monster, he was here again.” Anna ran into the room with Nanny at her heels. She flung herself into Rose’s skirts, her small arms wrapping tight. She pulled her face back to stare at Wulf. He knelt and brought himself down to her eye level.

  “The monster was back. Did you see more of him this time?”

  “Only his boots. He had the biggest boots.” Anna peeked down at Wulf’s feet. “Well, maybe not the biggest, but big and black.”

  A man in black boots, now that should be easy to find. Rose stared down at her daughter and ran a finger over the golden curls. Anna was safe. Her mind careened back and forth between the cause of the fire and the simple fact that her daughter was safe. She pressed the small warm body against her.

  “Why did you only see his boots?” Wulf’s question probed gently.

  “I was hiding under the bed like it was a cave. I was going to sneak away and save the day, but then the monster came,” her voice quavered at the end.

  “Tell me about the monster.”

  “He tip-toed up to the door. I’ve never seen anybody tip-toe in boots and then he stopped and was very quiet. If I’d still had my swords I’d have run him through.” Anna gave her mother a look of utter disgust. “Then he slunk to the corner he was in last night. He spent the longest time there. I kept waiting for someone to come. He played with all the papers. I wanted to attack him, but I thought it was better to wait and see what he wanted.”

  “That was the right thing to do, princess.” Wulf reached forward and ran his fingers through her curls, his thumb lightly brushing Rose’s.

  “Then, just when I decided I’d been waiting long enough and I had to do something, he left. He just turned around and left. Not a very good monster. He didn’t even growl.”

  “What happened then?”

  “Once I was sure he was gone I snuck out from under the bed and went to see what he was doing. I didn’t see anything different at first and then . . . It all started to burn. All my books and treasures.” Anna sniffled and buried her face in her mother’s skirts. “All my treasures.”

  Rose cuddled her daughter tight. Her heart began to slow. “That’s all right, my poppet. We will get you new treasures, new wonderful things.”

  “But, Papa’s maps. I tried to save them. You said they were special and we had to be so careful with them. Really Mama, I tried, but I couldn’t.” She turned her face fully into her mother’s skirts, burying all but the back of her head.

  Rose knelt down beside Wulf, until the two of them held Anna tight between them.

  “Don’t worry. Even if we can’t get those maps, I am sure we can find you others.”

  “But how will I remember Papa without the sea monsters . . . you were right, I do want a Papa and they were all I had.”

  “Shh, maybe we can find new ones, and if we don’t maybe we’ll have to do what we can to get you a new Papa. Do you really think you might like one?”

  Anna drew her head back and glanced at Wulf, her eyes considering. “I might. If he was nice and knew how to plan battles.”

  Relief bubbled up in Rose. The little minx, her daughter clearly was one step ahead. “So you think if I could find a papa who could plan battles then you’d like him?”


  Anna continued to stare at Wulf. “He’d have to be big, too. I want him to give me good horsey rides.”

  “Big, anything else?”

  “I don’t like beards.”

  “Next.”

  “He’d have to teach me to fight. With sticks.”

  This time it was Rose who examined Wulf. He caught her glance and shrugged.

  “I’ll have to think about that one. I don’t know that I think you’re ready to learn sword fighting – sticks or no. Maybe, I’ll have to cross that off.”

  “Oh no, Mama.” Anna shot her an anxious look. “It’s important.”

  “I’ll consider that. Anything else?”

  Anna considered for a moment. She glanced down at her own hands. She rubbed her fingers together and for the first time Rose looked down at them closely.

  She took her daughter’s palm in her own and spread it open. A series of angry blisters crossed it. Anna’s eyes filled with tears and she tried to close it again.

  “I really tried, Mama. I didn’t want to lose Papa’s maps.”

  Rose stared down at the wounded flesh and felt her pulse speed, again. “What did you do, poppet?”

  “I tried to pull them out. I really did, but then . . . It just hurt too much. I am sorry, Mama. I promised I wouldn’t let anything happen to them and I failed.” Large tears started to roll down Anna’s face, following well marked lines.

  “Oh, Anna. Don’t you know you’re more important to me than any map? I’d rather the whole house burned down than that you received a single blister.”

  There was the clomp of somebody else climbing the stairs and Westlake entered the nursery.

  “Lady Burberry, I’ve taken the liberty of examining the grounds and there is no sign of any disturbance. Whoever did this knew the house.” He walked over to the charred corner and stared at the remains.

  Rose watched him for a moment. She felt Wulf’s arm come around her back, offering comfort. She allowed herself to lean into him. It was such a welcome feeling to have someone offer her support. She turned her cheek to his chest.

  “I wouldn’t have thought to check. I am still caught up by . . . I am just relieved my daughter is safe.”

  “We had a fire at Blythemoor little more than a year ago – and I learned what to look for. Is there anybody who would wish your daughter harm?”

  Anna looked up, startled, and glanced at her mother with concern, the tears falling from her eyes with increasing speed.

  “No.” Wulf stood. “There is nobody who would wish the child harm. And if anybody should ever think such a thing . . .” His fingers clenched at his side as if seeking the saber that no longer hung there. “Nobody will harm, my da . . . Anna.”

  Anna sniffled once and then looked up at him. Rose could see the warmth of hero worship growing in her daughter’s eyes. She knew the same warmth was growing in her heart. When Wulf spoke, his voice full of power, there was no room for doubt.

  Westlake shifted feet. “Forgive me, my lady. I didn’t think about . . . well, Simon, my wife’s son, is only just over a year now and I didn’t think . . . I forgot . . .”

  “I understand, your grace. Little ears tend to grow all at once.” She did her best to smile at the duke, but knew it was tremulous at best.

  Wulf stepped into the gap as awkward silence grew. “Come, Arthur, I know that this has delayed your departure and your wife will have my head if you don’t make it back tonight. Why don’t I walk you out and you can share any further insight you have. I want to be sure we have done everything possible to catch the brigand.”

  Westlake nodded at Rose, and taking Anna’s hand very carefully between his own lay a simple kiss on its back. “Take care, little lady. I hope we meet again soon. I hear you are a master at strategy and I’ve much to learn before my Simon demands his own soldiers.”

  Anna pulled away from her mother and, tilting her small chin up, curtsied with amazing poise.

  “I look forward to the occasion, your grace. You won’t be offended if I win?”

  The duke only chuckled and taking Wulf’s arm led him down the stairs.

  Rose caught her daughter tight to her again. Her mind still trembled at the thought of what might have been. “Let’s call Nanny back and get some salve for that hand. I know it must hurt.”

  “Only a little.” The small voice answered bravely and Rose could hear Wulf’s inflection in every word.

  Rose kissed her daughter on the top of the head and stood. She wished she could spend the whole day here, with her daughter, but she should follow the men and learn what needed to be done. She would have to make careful plans. She took a step towards the door. Stopped. Wulf was there. She didn’t have to manage everything. He could handle the logistics of whatever action needed to be taken.

  Did she trust him to act in her best interests? In their daughter’s interests? A relaxed smile spread across her face as she turned back towards the nursery.

  “So, you’re going to do it.” Arthur stood beside his devil of a stallion and looked at Wulf with hooded eyes. Wulf almost felt as if his friend had pulled out the quizzing glass again.

  “Yes, tomorrow. I’ve sent a note requesting the vicar’s presence at noon.”

  “You don’t seem upset by the idea. I thought you’d sworn never to marry a lady.”

  “Things change.”

  “Still . . .”

  Wulf turned from his friend and stared out over the gardens. “I am not sure what you want me to say. It’s not what I imagined for myself, but now I can’t imagine anything else.”

  Arthur chuckled. “That is what I want to hear. I’ve seen what honor can do to men, and I wanted to assure myself that it was not strictly honor that moved you. I’d hate to know I’d contributed to your making a grand mistake.”

  Wulf turned back and met Arthur’s eyes, for a moment the duke slipped away and he could see the young friend that he remembered. “No, it’s definitely not honor, or even just . . . I honestly don’t know why, but I just have to marry her, the world won’t be right otherwise.”

  Arthur clapped him on the back one more time and then swung up on the horse. “Can I trust you’ll visit soon? Lily will be upset enough to know the nuptials are proceeding without her. It’s going to be all I can do to keep her home tomorrow. She’s a soft spot for your wife – says even from their one meeting she knew . . . well I didn’t exactly understand what she knew, but whatever it was, she knew it. She didn’t have the doubts I did. It was actually she who had me sending off for the license. I wanted to come and investigate first, but she just smiled and told me to send to my uncle the arch-bishop.”

  Wulf smiled up at his friend. “Women. They just seem to understand things we don’t.”

  “You can say that again.” Arthur set his heels to the horse and set off, his grooms rapidly mounting and trying to catch up.

  Wulf turned and stared at the house, at his home. His smile grew wider as he walked towards the door.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Rose stood at the top of the stair and glared down, not at anybody since the hall was empty, but at the sheer disorder of her life. She kept feeling if she could just find the cipher to the code everything would fall together perfectly. There was something, or several somethings, she just could not grasp.

  She had the urge to stomp her foot.

  Instead, chin in the air, she sailed down the stairs. She’d spent enough time playing with Anna that it was unlikely the duke was still here. She trusted Wulf to handle matters, but it wouldn’t hurt to drag the plans out of him. A hint of a smile curved her lip. She’d already proved she had some power over the man.

  He’d been willing to hold off the wedding even though he still wanted to marry her. Her steps slowed.

  He’d been willing to wait for the wedding and she’d been the one to insist it go forward, immediately. Why had she done that? It would have been much more sensible to wait a few weeks and plan everything out, only yesterday she’d been worki
ng to persuade him of that fact – and today . . .

  Well, it had been hard to think while his fingers were moving over her in the most delicious rhythms. Most unsporting of the man. Now that she was in a more settled frame of mind she’d tell him that – she couldn’t bear to wait until tomorrow, much less any longer.

  Her footsteps slowed to the point of stopping as she approached the library door. Wulf was everything she’d promised to avoid in a husband . . . and yet she felt not the slightest desire to seek another. He was forceful and strong . . . and clearly had a penchant for having things his own way. She didn’t think he’d let her manage things just because he didn’t want to be bothered. He was not the man for her.

  Only, he was. She let that thought play about her mind.

  He had seemed different today. A blush worked its way up from her neckline as she considered how different. From the moment she’d agreed to still marry him, said she didn’t care for title or wealth, something had changed. He’d looked at her with a heat that was more than passion.

  She put her hand on the door to the library and edged it open. She’d sneak up on him and lure him into confiding all the secrets he’d discussed with Westlake and then, well if it took awhile to worm the secrets out of him she’d just have to do what was required.

  He wasn’t there. Only Mitter stood in the corner of the room, rapidly shoving books into a chest. He jumped slightly as he saw her.

  “Oh, I am so sorry to disturb you. I was looking for Major Huntington.”

  Mitter banged the lid shut on the box, some of the documents still peaking out at the edge. “Haven’t seen him since this morning, Lady Burberry. I am just finishing up by myself.”

  Rose looked around the library that had returned to its normal sense of order. There were fewer books on the shelves than previously, but still more than she had expected.