Sandra Owens

by The Letter

“Do you—”

  “Are there—”

  “My pardon, my lady, what were you going to say?”

  Her gaze fell on the sleeping cat. “Are there truly more at home?”

  At home. Did she still think of his townhouse as her home? His heart jumped, but he tried not to give her words too much significance.

  “Did you not read my letters? There is Peggy, of course, and then Clancy who was staring into the mirror when I left, and there is Priscilla. She was having a conversation with mother about her sneezing. Henry the first, and Henry the second were playing a game of marbles. And lastly, there is Bunny.”

  “Bunny? You did not tell me about her.”

  “Ah, so you have read my letters. I have not written you of her because that particular story is a bit embarrassing. You see, the first night you were gone, I drank a little too much. All right, I will admit it, a lot too much. I then brought home my first cat. The thing is, the next morning when I could see straight again, it turned out Bunny is a rabbit.”

  Her lips twitched. “Oh dear.”

  “Yes, but all is well. Surrounded by cats, she now thinks she is one, has even learned to purr. She is a bit domineering, however. I suppose because she was the first, she thinks she has the right to lord it over the others. Last night, she insisted on carrots for dinner even though the other five voted for a bowl of milk.”

  “You truly are mad,” she said and burst into laughter.

  Mad for you. “You have made that accusation before, Diana. Have a care. I might start to believe you and then there will be no limit to the creatures I drag home.”

  Peggy, apparently disturbed by the gaiety, sat up and promptly fell over. Diana buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking in mirth. Michael grinned with pleasure. The first part of his plan, to put her at ease, seemed to be a success. The carriage rolled to a stop in front of Rotharton’s. Now onto part two.

  His heart pounded its anxiety as he prepared to ask his question. “Diana?”

  She must have heard the serious tone in his voice. Her laughter faded. “Yes?”

  “Would you consent to have dinner with me tonight?”

  What was going through her mind as she studied him? He prayed she would agree because his alternate plan to kidnap her was probably a bit too drastic.

  “Just dinner?”

  “No, dinner and talk.”

  She looked away and then back. “We do need to talk. All right.”

  Hallelujah and praise be. “I will send—No, what time would you like me to send my carriage for you?”

  “Would seven suit?”

  So polite they were suddenly being. “Seven is perfect.” He opened the door and escorted her out. Jamie came running out of the townhouse and jumped into his arms.

  “Papa, have you come to take us home?”

  Michael glanced at Diana. Did she mind Jamie calling him Papa? When he had asked, Michael had wanted to hear the name on his son’s lips too badly to refuse. She smiled, and he gave an inward sigh of relief.

  Carrying his son, he walked up the steps. “Not today, but soon. I promise,” he whispered. He set Jamie down. “Go inside now, and I will see you in the morning. Prize said to tell you he thinks you are ready to ride in the park.”

  Jamie’s eyes widened. “Tomorrow I can ride my horse to see Harry?”

  “Yes, I will call on Lord Derebourne this afternoon and ask him to bring Harry.”

  “You are the best Papa in the world,” Jamie proclaimed and then ran inside the house.

  Sweet Jesus, he would not cry.

  Diana came up beside him and slipped her hand in his. “You are, you know.”

  He brought her hand to his lips. “Thank you. I will see you tonight.”

  He left before he unmanned himself in front of her. In the carriage, he removed his handkerchief and dried his eyes. “Well, Peggy, that went well.” He picked up the cat. “Thank you for your assistance. Let’s take you home.”

  Arriving at Derebourne’s home, Angel House, he asked for Lady Derebourne and was shown to the drawing room.

  He bowed. “My lady, I am returning Peggy. Thank you for the loan of her. She performed her role most admirably.” He put the cat down, and she curled up on his boot.

  “I do admit to overwhelming curiosity as to why you needed to borrow one of my cats.”

  “I was hoping you would forget to return her,” Derebourne said, entering the room.

  He was followed by a dog missing an ear, and another smaller one sporting spiked hair. “I have warned Claire that if she drags home one more unfortunate, I will petition Parliament for a divorce.” He sat down next to his marchioness and kissed her soundly on the lips belying his words.

  “Chase, behave,” she said, blushing brightly.

  Michael envied their obvious happiness. He slipped his boot out from under Peggy and moved to a chair. The cat struggled up and tried to follow him, falling over three times before she reached his boot and curled onto it again, promptly going to sleep.

  “Is her injury a recent one? She doesn’t seem to have mastered the art of three legged walking.”

  “About a month ago, she was run over by a carriage, and Claire saw it happen. Of course, my softhearted wife had to bring her home and nurse her.

  “That one,” he said, indicating the dog with one ear, “she found abandoned on a country lane near our estate.” He looked at the little one nestled on the sofa between them. “This ugly as sin one followed her home from Hyde Park. I am almost certain his father was a hedgehog.”

  After making arrangements to meet Derebourne and his ward, Harry, at Hyde Park in the morning, Michael stood, and once again slipped his foot from under Peggy. She opened one eye, yawned, and then struggled up onto her three legs, fell over, got up again, and followed him to the door.

  “Oh ho, looks like you have a new family member.”

  Michael frowned. “No, I don’t.”

  Ten minutes later, Michael returned home in his carriage, a purring cat on his lap. “Just to be clear, Peggy, this was not a part of my plan.” She purred louder.

  He entered his townhouse, ordered a bath for himself and a bowl of milk, took his new pet upstairs to his chamber and handed her to his valet. “This is Peggy. She lives with us now.”

  Hansen held the feline up. “My lord, this puss only has three legs.”

  “Your observation skills astound me, Hansen. Put her on the bed and help me decide what to wear.”

  After refusing Hansen’s first three suggestions, Michael made his decision, and then wrote out a dinner menu and sent it down to his chef. Everything had to be perfect for tonight. Once shaved, bathed, and dressed, he went into Diana’s chamber and retrieved the vase of roses he still had delivered each morning. Todays were a pale pink reminding him of her lips.

  The flowers were an important part of his plan. If he made it that far.

  ****

  “My lady, you have a visitor.”

  Diana looked up from the gown she had spread out on the bed. “Who is it?”

  The housekeeper handed her a card. Diana read the name and considered refusing to see the caller. What was Lady Hartwell up to now? Deciding it was better to find out, and the safest place to talk to the woman was in her father’s house, she went downstairs.

  Lady Hartwell stood in the middle of the room, her hands clasped in front of her. “Lady Brantley, thank you for seeing me.”

  Diana walked to a chair and sat. “I almost didn’t. Would you sit please, and tell me why you are here.”

  “Thank you, my lady, you are far more charitable than I would have been in your place.”

  When she was settled, Lady Hartwell met Diana’s gaze. “I came to apologize, although after the way I behaved at the ball, I wouldn’t blame you for not accepting.”

  Was this a trick? Diana knew evil when she saw it, and there was none in Lady Hartwell’s eyes. There was fear and, she was sure, torment of some kind. She, of all people, recognized suff
ering when she saw it. “Who is hurting you?”

  Lady Hartwell broke eye contact. “I can’t imagine what you mean.”

  “I’m sorry. It is not my concern, is it?” She shouldn’t have said that, but Diana was sure something was amiss in Lady Hartwell’s life. “We will never be friends, you and I, but I do appreciate your courage in coming here. I would like to know one thing, however. Why did you have someone following me?”

  There was a long pause before she answered. “At first, it was only for information. I suppose I was hoping to learn something I could use against you. Then at the ball, when Lord Daventry was so attentive and protective of you, I… This is difficult to admit. You see, I was furious and not thinking clearly. I decided to have you kidnapped.”

  Diana gasped. “What did you plan to do with me?”

  Lady Hartwell gave a mirthless laugh. “I have no idea. I was desperate and thought if you were out of the way, I could win Daventry back. So stupid, I know. If I’d followed through with it, he would have killed me for sure. I see how he looks at you. He never looked at me like that.”

  “What happened to change your mind?” It was odd to be sitting with the woman and having this conversation, but Diana was strangely fascinated.

  “While waiting for the man I would order to do the deed, I walked by a mirror. I didn’t recognize the woman staring back at me, didn’t like what I saw. ‘What the bloody hell are you about, Serena,’ I asked myself. I may not be a particularly nice woman, but I have never physically hurt another.”

  She stood. “I only meant to apologize, Lady Brantley, not bare my soul. Please be assured you have nothing to fear from me.”

  Diana rose and walked with her to the door. She put her hand on Lady Hartwell’s arm. “I hope you don’t think me forward, but I suffered at the hands of another and recognize the misery in your eyes. If you ever need help, I am here for you.”

  “Why? After what I did to you, why would you want to help me?’

  “Because no one was there for me.”

  “I don’t follow your reasoning, but you must not concern yourself over me. I am fine, truly.”

  Diana watched her walk to her carriage. You are lying, Lady Hartwell, but I understand that, too.

  She went upstairs to dress for her dinner with Michael, her excitement tempered by thoughts of Lady Hartwell. She was in trouble, Diana was sure of it. There was nothing she could do unless Lady Hartwell reached out, so she turned her thoughts to Michael.

  Glad it was Fanny’s half day off and she was not here to help her dress, Diana put on a gown that buttoned up the front. Her maid would be scandalized that she wore nothing under it but her chemise. She pulled her hair into a simple twist and pinned it in place. Lastly, she dabbed vanilla scent behind her ears and on her wrists.

  She was ready to learn her future.

  Michael’s carriage arrived promptly at seven. His footman, dressed smartly in blue and black livery, waited to hand her inside. Surprised the lamps were not lit, she felt her way to the bench. The door closed, making it even darker.

  “Did you know the sense of touch is heightened when one cannot see?”

  A finger stroked the swell of her breasts to prove it. Oh, God, he did wicked things to her body.

  “Michael?”

  “It is I.” He pulled back one of the window curtains allowing faint light inside.

  She could see the outline of his face, but not his features. Closing her eyes, she placed her palm on his cheek. His skin was smooth as if he had recently shaved. A muscle in his jaw twitched under her hand. The dark did enhance her sense of touch.

  “Close the curtain, please.”

  He chuckled, the low sound vibrating over her. Dark descended again and with it, her excitement rose. She took a deep breath and inhaled his scent of bay rum. Reaching up to touch him again, he caught her hand.

  “No. Put your hands in your lap and don’t move.”

  She did as he asked.

  What was he going to do? Something soft caressed her check. She breathed in the fragrance. He was stroking her with a rose, first her cheek, then down the side of her neck to her breasts. Her skin tingled where the petals touched. A shiver traveled through her and her private place dampened. She squeezed her legs together.

  He opened her hand and put the rose in it. She tried to remember they needed to talk, that nothing could happen until they did. Then his lips were on hers, a light brush and then gone, than another velvety touch, teasing her, making her want more.

  “We’re home,” he whispered, his lips tickling her ear.

  She hadn’t noticed the carriage stopping. He moved away and the door opened, light spilling in. She blinked, and tried to calm her breathing. Clutching her rose, she put her hand in Michael’s and stepped out.

  “Where is Smedley?” she asked when he escorted her into the house.

  “I gave all the servants the night off. Mother is also out for the evening. It is just the two of us.”

  She peeked into the drawing room. “Did you send Bunny and friends away, also?”

  “Bunny took them out carousing. She didn’t think a three-legged companion could keep up with the revelry she had planned for tonight, so Peggy got left behind. I suppose I should say it is just you, me, and Peggy.”

  He took her hand and led her upstairs to his chamber. She started to protest, but stopped when she saw Peggy curled up on the bed.

  “Well, at least I have a chaperone.”

  He glanced at the cat. “True. But I’ve asked her to cover her eyes when I kiss you.”

  “How do you know I will let you?”

  “I am hoping,” he said, his gaze focused on her.

  She walked toward the bed, and looked at him over her shoulder. “Perhaps I will allow it. We shall see.”

  The cat mewed and stretched. Diana scratched her ear the way she had seen Michael do, and was rewarded with a loud purr. “Like that do you?”

  Michael came up behind her and began pulling pins out of her hair, dropping them to the floor. She stilled. “We have to talk, Michael.”

  He trailed his fingers through the strands. “You have beautiful hair. It feels like silk.” When he had it arranged to his liking, he took her hand. “Come, I promised you dinner.”

  A variety of tantalizing dishes were spread on the table; oysters in their shell on ice, shaved ham, cheeses, strawberries, crusty bread, and raspberry tarts.

  He seated her and then poured them glasses of cold champagne. She sipped the chilled beverage and almost moaned in ecstasy. It had been eleven years since she’d had any, had forgotten how much she liked it.

  “You are making love to your champagne, Diana. You are putting wicked thoughts in my head.”

  She lifted her lashes, met his gaze. “I wasn’t.”

  “Oh yes, you were. When you close your eyes and moan, what else am I to think? Don’t mistake me, I rather like it.”

  “I did not moan.” Had she?

  “Then it must have been Peggy.” He winked.

  Why did a mere wink make her insides feel funny? She drank some more champagne, but kept her eyes open and made sure she didn’t make any noise.

  He laughed and waved a hand at her. “Please, don’t let me spoil your enjoyment. Moan away.”

  She took another sip and made an exaggerated sound. “Did that do anything for you?”

  “Aside from wondering if I should fetch you a doctor, no.” He piled a plate with food and put it in front of her.

  “Heavens, I can’t eat all this.” She took a bite of ham. It was delicious, and the bread was still warm and melted in her mouth.

  “I had an unexpected caller this afternoon.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes, Lady Hartwell.”

  He put his fork down, a scowl on his face. “She has gone too far. I will put a stop to it.”

  “No, it isn’t what you think.” She put her hand over his, and told him about the visit.

  “There has always been som
ething strange about the relationship between her and her uncle,” Michael said when she finished. “I know you mean well, but I want you to stay far away from that situation.”

  And there it was, what he wanted with no discussion of her desires. Concerning Lady Hartwell, she pretty much agreed, but she wanted him to ask her opinion.

  If Lady Hartwell turned to her in desperation, Diana wanted Michael to understand that she could not turn the woman away, and to support her decision.

  “And if I don’t?” she asked.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Warning bells clanged in Michael’s head. His colossal desire to order her to have nothing to do with Serena for any bloody reason battled with the knowledge that if he did, she would walk out the door, never to return.

  He pushed his plate away and stood. “Let’s move to the chairs by the fire. I think our time to talk has arrived, and I would prefer to be comfortable.” He turned his chair toward her, poured them wine and handed her one.

  “Well?” she said.

  “Well what?”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Stop being obtuse. I want an answer.”

  He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. She was asking him to be someone he wasn’t, yet he was asking the same from her. There had to be a compromise they both could live with.

  “Perhaps it would be best if I left.”

  He snapped his eyes open. “No, please don’t. Everything in me screams to protect you, to keep you and Jamie safe from harm however I must. Do I believe I know what is best for you?” He shrugged. “I can’t deny it. Yet, you cannot live with that, and I can’t bear the thought of losing you. If I do, you won’t be around for me to protect, so what have I gained? How do we solve this problem between us?”

  She moved to the edge of her chair. “Something inside me rebels each time you give me an order even when I know you are right. I think if we had married when we were supposed to, this wouldn’t be a problem. I was young, you would have been my husband, and I was taught I should obey you. But then, Leo came along and I had no rights, was allowed no opinions, or the freedom to make a decision no matter how simple.

  “Then you walked back into my life. You decided I would leave the cottage, that I would go to Wyburne, then London, and that I would attend the ball. Not once did you listen when I told you I didn’t want to. When I found something I did want to do, you refused me. In the end, you were right about everything, but that isn’t the point. You didn’t listen to me, Michael, didn’t once hear me.”