Pleasurably Undone!
Page 23
He met her gaze and held it, like one cat staring down another before lashing out with its claws.
It would serve her right to see him as he really was. She would finally understand the choices he made. There would be no chance she would stay, but he’d always known that.
Without any warning, he pulled off the mask.
He heard her swift intake of breath. Saw her eyes widen. But she did not flinch. She did not turn away. Instead she walked closer to him, so close they were inches apart. She raised her hand and touched the jagged scars that crisscrossed his cheek. With her finger, she traced the scar that caused the drooping of his eye and the one that pulled at the corner of his mouth.
He forced himself to endure her touch. The sunlight was bright enough to illuminate every detail. None of it was hidden from her now.
He braced himself for platitudes. It is not so bad, Graham. Perhaps the scars will shrink, Graham.
She was silent.
Finally she stepped back. He realized he was still gripping his mask in his fist. He lifted it to put it back in place.
She seized his hand. “Leave it off, Graham. Sit with me.” She led him over to the sofa, also bathed in sunlight.
He did not mind that the light made her skin glow and her hair, worn tied back in a ribbon, shine with gold, but that same light revealed the monster he had become.
She still did not look away from him when she sat with him. She continued to grasp his hand.
“Now my secrets,” she whispered.
She told a story of her childhood, of being chased through the woods by two boys, of falling and being pummeled with sticks and stones until another boy came to her rescue.
“By God,” he said. “I remember it. It was me. I had my father see that the boys were given a severe dressing down.” He gazed at her. “You were that little girl.”
She nodded. “I needed you that day and you needed me when we met at Vauxhall. That is why I agreed to your proposition.”
“You knew who I was all along? Did someone put you up to this? The duke?” That he could not tolerate. It bore too close a resemblance to pity.
She squeezed his hand. “Not at all. I discovered by accident that Captain Veall would also be a guest at the party. When you gave me your first name, I knew you were Graham Veall.”
He frowned and averted his gaze.
“Do not worry,” she said. “I will keep our association as secret as if I never knew you. I give you my word.”
He sat back and rubbed his forehead. She had known all along who he was.
His eyes shot open and he leaned towards her. “This is not the cause of your withdrawal from me. You have known this from the beginning.”
She glanced away.
He took her chin in his hand and made her face him. “You are hiding something else.”
Tears glistened in her brown eyes, making them appear even more luminous. “Oh, Graham,” she gasped. “I think I might be carrying a child.”
He gaped at her, speech failing him. This he did not expect. A child. His child, growing inside her.
“I—I do not know for certain, so I did not want to tell you. You must not be concerned, though, because you have given me more than enough to support a child. And I am happy about it.” A tear rolled down her cheek. “Very happy.”
She was carrying his child inside her.
She took a shuddering breath. “I did what I was taught to prevent it, but it didn’t work. But I am content. This will most probably be my only chance to have a baby, but I need not burden you with any of it.”
“Burden me?” he managed to utter. “I am not that sort of monster, Margaret.”
“I know you do not want a child. But I do so very much want one. Want this one.”
He scraped a hand through his hair. “Good God. I did not want to walk outside in the daytime. Or to remove my mask. I’ve done those things.” He took her face in both his hands. “I did not want a woman to love, merely a woman to make love to, but you changed everything.”
“I do not understand.”
He released her and looked away, covering his scars with his hand. “It is no use. There’s no chance. I cannot be a husband. A father. What woman would want to look upon this the rest of her life?” He pointed to his scars. “I’d frighten my own children.”
She stared at him. “Graham, what are you saying to me?”
He gazed upon her. “I’m saying if I were not some monstrosity best reserved for a display of oddities, if I had met you before, I would marry you and consider myself the most fortunate of men. I would adore any child you bore.”
She gaped. “Are you proposing marriage, Graham?”
He turned away. “How can I propose marriage to you?”
She laughed softly. “Place an advertisement in The Times. Seeking a once-virginal vicar’s daughter for marriage. Gentleman of good character offers happiness and a great deal of pleasure.”
She touched the mangled side of his face and brought her lips to his.
Epilogue
London, February, 1818
Graham walked in the door of his London town house, shaking the rain from his topcoat. Coombs helped him with the garment and took his hat and gloves.
“Thank you, Coombs.” Graham headed up the stairs. As he neared the top step, he pulled off the mask. “Anyone at home?”
“Papa!” came an excited squeal.
A little girl with nutmeg-colored hair and brown eyes ran into the hallway. Behind her was a blue-eyed little boy still in a short coat. “Papa,” he cried, mimicking his sister’s exact tone.
Graham crouched down to catch them both in his arms, these perfect children of his. His daughter flung her chubby little arms around his neck and kissed his cheek—his scarred cheek.
“I missed you so much, Papa!” she cried.
“I missed you, too,” his son said.
He laughed. “I missed you the most.” He kissed them both on their smooth, unmarred little faces. Still holding them, he glanced at the doorway to the drawing room.
His wife stood there.
Even after nearly six years, Margaret’s beauty still took his breath. Carrying their children, he walked over to her and leaned down for a long lingering kiss that made him wish it were time for the children to be tucked in bed.
As his lips left hers, she whispered. “I missed you the most.”
He smiled, but knew she was wrong. Everything worth possessing was here in his arms now. His wife. His son. His daughter. This was life itself.
And he’d almost missed it all.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-5231-2
PLEASURABLY UNDONE!
Copyright © 2010 by Harlequin Books S.A.
The publisher acknowledges the copyright holders of the individual works as follows:
SEDUCING A STRANGER
Copyright © 2009 by Christine Merrill
THE VIKING’S FORBIDDEN LOVE-SLAVE
Copyright © 2008 by Michelle Willingham
DISROBED AND DISHONORED
Copyright © 2009 by Melanie Hilton
A NIGHT FOR HER PLEASURE
Copyright © 2009 by Theresa S. Brisbin
THE UNLACING OF MISS LEIGH
Copyright © 2009 by Diane Perkins
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