Keepsake (The Distinguished Rogues Book 5)

by Heather Boyd

  Miranda gasped as tears slipped over her cheeks. Kit was too cruel, but she would listen and find comfort that her decisions ten years ago were justified. She jerked upright and scuttled away from him, pressing her spine against the headboard. She would hear about Lady Brighthurst, and tomorrow she would leave Kit for good.

  Regardless of her distress he began to speak. “The first lover I ever had was a maid in our house. I was very young, only fourteen at the time, and when my parents found out, I was punished, sent away from the estate I loved and forced to live with Lord Sorenson in Kent.”

  The carved-timber headboard dug into her skull and she winced at the pain, a welcome distraction from his words.

  Kit shifted, dragging an additional pillow toward her and tucked it behind her head. He smiled again. “Lord Sorenson had less puritanical views on pleasure than my parents. Instead of punishing me for my wicked ways, he encouraged them. While my parents believed I was studying and suffering, I was also being tutored in the sensual arts by a very resourceful courtesan. She taught me everything I knew about pleasure. Enough so I lost that distracting urge to seduce any woman I met and grew in confidence.”

  Miranda had wondered where he’d learned those wicked tricks. She’d enjoyed them, but in the back of her mind she had wondered how many lovers he’d taken before her. Now she knew the beginning.

  “We parted on good terms and I returned to Twilit—wiser, satisfied, and more aware of what I needed in my life for it to be successful.” He sighed and moved closer, his touch ghosting over her thigh. “When I went home, I discovered Twilit was floundering. My father had burned through my mother’s dowry so completely that we were in danger of having to sell everything not nailed down. He died, from embarrassment I suspect, and I inherited the debts, but with the burden of three guardians breathing down my neck and criticizing every single thing I did. It was never easy. They did not particularly like my plan to marry young to save the estate from disaster, but in the end they knew I had little choice and gave grudging agreement, providing they approved the lady.”

  Miranda couldn’t keep her astonishment hidden. “They chose me?”

  “No, I chose you.” He brushed her leg with his thumb and her legs trembled. “The year I met you, there were two other potential brides my guardians were very keen on. Lady Verona Marshall, and our friend Virginia, Lady Hallam now. Both had excellent dowries and connections.”

  Bitterness crept through her being. And envy. Those two ladies were very beautiful. “You should have married one of them.”

  Kit leaned forward and touched her face, fingers sliding across her lips to shush her. “I chose you because I was attracted to you from the moment we met. Just you. Not your dowry, though that did sway my guardians to agree to the swift wedding I wanted. And I wanted to marry you quickly because the idea of waking up beside you, making love, and hearing you laugh with me, was the sweetest life I could ever have imagined possible.”

  Miranda’s heartbeat quickened. “Would you have married me if I was poor?”

  He drew back, his expression pained. “That is an unfair question. If you were poor I doubt we would have ever met.”

  True. Kit moved in the best circles, and it was only by chance they’d attended the same ball. Her fortune had made her invitation inevitable, something she regretted and cherished. Without that invitation she would not have met Kit and never have had Christopher to love. “You say nothing of your current lover.”

  Kit sighed, then met her gaze and held it. “The last lover I had was three years ago—a country girl new to town who reminded me enough of you that I could set aside my pride and pay for her passions. We met at a time when I despaired of seeing you again. You’d been missing for seven years and I could have petitioned for my freedom then.”

  Kit cleared his throat, then said, “Doris was practical, though desperate to improve herself. I taught her the trade of a courtesan, how to entice and tease. She changed her name and I set her up as my mistress for a while in London. But it couldn’t last. She knew I could not love her.”

  Miranda’s throat tightened. “Do you love anyone?”

  “I do,” he whispered. “Louth tells me you had good reason to leave.”

  “I did.”

  “You were both wrong.” He shifted suddenly, moving to sit directly over her legs, pinning her in place. He smiled softly. “Listen very carefully, for I do not like to speak ill of my friends. I want to talk now of Emily.”

  Miranda’s heart broke again and she squirmed to be free of him. She couldn’t dislodge him and he held her hands to the bed so she couldn’t struggle more. “You don’t have to explain.”

  “Emily had too much to drink on our wedding day. I took her outside, away from prying eyes, for some air so she would not embarrass herself and her family. She was my friend, and I wanted to protect her from causing a scandal. She kissed me. I don’t know what she was thinking that night, but I remember her being upset and unusually bold. I promise you we were, and have only ever been, friends. She was unlike herself, and fearing for her reputation and her husband’s wrath should he have learned of her behavior, I spirited her away from the gathering, but not to seduce her. I took her home, placed her in the care of Acton’s housekeeper, and returned as soon as I could. Events after that delayed me from seeking you out until the next day. You must have been very far away by then.”

  She ceased struggling and he released her hands.

  “I’ve not thought about that kiss until Louth mentioned you’d both seen it.” He sighed heavily. “I don’t find Emily the least bit attractive, although she is a fine woman. The only woman I’ve truly wanted was you. Ten years ago I was too young to make that clear to you. I’m sorry.”

  “A clever explanation. You forget that I have other sources for my intelligence.”

  He frowned and drew back. “Such as?”

  “Your guardians explained how determined you were to keep her in your life. They said you’d never give her up.”

  “I remember a conversation I had with them about Emily and about running wild with Acton. They were always lecturing me about something. They said as a married man I should spend more time at home. I told them to sod off.” Kit shifted off the bed immediately, freeing her. “Damn them. They twisted my words and hurt you.”

  “They made the situation very plain to me that you would always have a mistress. It was always Emily this and Emily that. Who do you think really cares for the roses that adorned our wedding breakfast tables? We may be married, but it was her wedding, not mine.”

  Miranda swallowed her bitterness. “I wish I had seen what everyone else knew before we went to your estate. She loved you and she even had your mother’s approval. Something I doubt I ever will possess. It was a pity she’d not the funds to save you then.”

  “The lack of funds wouldn’t have mattered if I had truly loved her.” His shoulders sagged. “I don’t love Emily. I’ve never felt for her one tenth of what I feel for you.”

  Miranda shook her head. “You needed money desperately. That was all anyone could talk about. The afternoon of our marriage, but even in the earlier weeks before, there were so many hints about the lack of love between us. I could dismiss it as simple teasing since you were always in my bed, but not after I saw the two of you together in the rose garden. I was such a blind fool. I let you into my bed and ensured my own ruin.”

  Kit stared.

  Miranda shrugged. “So my only purpose was to give you money and an heir. You had his life, Christopher’s life, planned down to the smallest detail even before I was sure I carried him. You didn’t care for my opinion.”

  Kit shifted toward her, his hands falling gently on her arms to soothe her. “I’m so sorry. When my father died, I had the world upon my shoulders and when I met you I couldn’t believe my luck. I doubt I could have kept out of your bed if I tried. Those hours alone with you were so soothing, but it was selfish of me. I never meant to make you believe your money and our ch
ild was all I wanted. I was so young and blind to everything but the passion we shared then. I wanted so much to have you to myself, and in order to keep what we had private, I talked too much about what I wanted and failed to listen to you. Instead I put my friends first and made that day into the worst instead of the best one of our lives.”

  Miranda hugged her chest tightly as the pain she’d tried in vain to snuff or to hide burst free. “They’ve hated me since the moment we met. I still see their disapproval now I’m back, and suggestions that I’m an interloper in your life have already begun. Acton will never accept me and nor will your Emily.”

  Kit was silent at her accusation that his friends did not really like her. Silent and still as he likely pondered how to pretend it wasn’t so. But Miranda did know they were waiting for Kit to give up on being a married man. Waiting in the hope they didn’t have to share the marquess’s attention with anyone.

  “I grew up an only child, you know. Raised by servants at Twilit Hill. My parents had no interest in me or each other. Acton and Emily were my only childhood companions. They included me in their games and intrigues and became the siblings I never had.” Kit bit his lip. “You may be right about their feelings being against you. The pair never let anyone else join us in fun now I think on it closer. I never saw it so clearly until your return, but during your absence Acton has been the most insistent I should divorce you. He even went as far as to claim you’ve had lovers. Lots of lovers.”

  He jumped from the bed and paced before the fire. Miranda drank in what might be her last unguarded view of her husband. He was beautiful and wicked and she loved him. Miranda lowered her face to the bed. She loved him, and despite all her insistence that she didn’t care one whit about him, she did. She cared what he thought of those rumors. “What do you think?”

  He stopped suddenly, head bowed.

  “Because really, that is the only opinion I care about, Kit. Do you believe I was unfaithful to you?”

  “No.”

  Miranda leaned forward, curious about the certainty in his tone. “And why is that?”

  He drew closer. “Several reasons. Our son being one. I understand you took the extraordinary step of raising him with little help from servants until your illness, and he loves you more than I ever cared for my own parents at that age. To have lived the life you were rumored to be living, to have been so wanton, you’d never have hidden it from him. What son could respect a mother who behaved in such a manner?”

  He continued to pace.

  “Your return to my bed is another good reason. Despite our arguments on the subject of an heir, you could have said no and I would never have forced you. No one fights so hard with someone they care nothing for unless their heart is deeply involved.

  “But the most obvious reason has no proof, no discernable sign to back it up. You, Miranda Reed, meant every word of your marriage vows. That’s why you left me as you did. Heartbroken and embarrassed, convinced I’d used you so badly when you saw what you were told you’d see. I want to thank you for our son. He is the most amazing child I’ve ever met, and I thought that the moment he boldly sidled up to me one day and introduced himself as Simon.”

  Relief filled Miranda. She wiped the tears from her face and waited. “So, what now?”

  “Tomorrow I meet with my solicitor to discuss the succession and Christopher’s inheritance. I will also deal with Lord Acton and Emily. You are my wife. I have a family. You and our son are more important to me than they ever realized, but they will understand my feelings very plainly tomorrow. We will see what happens after that. They should have befriended you for my sake, yet all they did was drive you away. I should tell you now that Mother left a note for me before she departed and confessed that Emily knew about Christopher. I want to see what she has to say to that accusation with my own eyes.”

  “And if it was Emily that found Christopher and tried to hurt him?”

  Kit’s face grew troubled. “I don’t know what I’d do yet. But if it is true, I will make sure both he and you are always safe. Is that an acceptable answer for you for the moment?”

  “It is.”

  He took a deep breath and Miranda held hers. “If they cannot make you feel welcome, I’d rather not see them anymore. I have lost ten years with you thanks to a foolish misunderstanding. I’ll not lose another day.”

  Tears fell down Miranda’s cheeks unchecked, and she feebly brushed them away. His support was all she could ask for. It was more than she’d ever expected to have.

  He touched her hair softly while she composed herself again, shifting the long strands that had fallen from her bun back behind her ears. “My Miranda,” he whispered. “How I have missed you. I am so sorry your heart was broken.”

  She caught his hand, astonished by the warmth and regret in voice. She held it against her cheek and he drew closer. Wordlessly, she encouraged him into her bed to lie down at her side.

  He pulled her into his arms almost immediately and held her tightly against his broad chest. “Do you believe me? About Emily?”

  Miranda pressed her ear over his heart, counting the measured beats and finding comfort in the sound. She turned her face up to his. “Yes,” she said simply. She believed him about Emily most of all. She had not seen the end of that encounter, only pieces, and had perhaps drawn the most logical but wrong conclusion about the depths of their relationship. Her age and inexperience at the time they married had made her easily manipulated, her faith in Kit tested and broken by the fear of being wanted only for her dowry.

  Miranda smiled tentatively. He kissed her gently, a soft brush of his lips across hers. The kiss deepened as Kit’s hands roved over her gown. She had not forgotten the joy she found under his hands, how even when uncertain of everything else she knew desire such as this wasn’t to be taken lightly. It was precious and only found with him.

  He drew away slightly. “I shouldn’t muss you. I don’t want to ruin your gown when you’ve gone to so much trouble.”

  Could she risk her heart once more and give him the chance he begged for? Miranda set her hand to her fluttering stomach and laughed softly. “It’s just a gown. Easily laundered to look fine again.”

  His fingers swept over her thigh and her gown rose higher. Miranda didn’t mind being rid of it. It was beautiful to lie naked with Kit and feel like the most desirable woman in the world. Only he made her feel that way.

  Once she was stripped down to her corset and shift, he settled his hips between her spread thighs but seemed only interested in soft kisses. That wasn’t enough for Miranda, so she pushed him onto his back and straddled him. “I recall you liked this position once.”

  “My memory is very good, too.” He threw her over again and caught her wrists, pushing them high over her head. “I remember you were just starting to enjoy this position very enthusiastically.”

  Flames licked up Miranda’s spine as his hips wedged between her spread thighs. “This could become a problem.”

  “How so?”

  “We can’t do everything at once.”

  His smile grew wicked as he reached for the placket of his trousers before rearing up to his knees and struggling out of his garments. “We’ll have to learn to compromise and share the decision-making in everything.”

  Miranda watched him unveil his body, aware she was growing wet and restless. Between them, his cock was as full as she’d ever seen it, tempting her to reach out and touch, reminding her of how good it had felt to be loved by him. The muscles in his arms and chest shifted, forcing her to jerk her gaze up to his face. Maybe this time he could be on top. Just for tonight of course. “I’m willing.”

  “I was hoping you might be.” His length pressed hot against her and his arms bracketed her body tightly. He kept his weight off her, and the next moment he was there between her legs, begging entry to her body. Miranda looped one leg over his hip, opening herself to his invasion. He entered slowly: firm, hot, and wonderfully filling.

  Miranda wrapp
ed her legs about his waist as he buried himself, his groan against her neck when he settled against her signaling his complete satisfaction.

  For Miranda it was as if she’d come home.

  She kissed him deeply, twined her arms about his neck, and clung to him as they became one, straining toward their mutual happiness.

  His pace quickened and Miranda’s body throbbed as she matched his passion. Very soon she would come, and she wouldn’t need anything more than this. Kit suddenly rotated his hips in a slow circle and Miranda stiffened.

  She sobbed as she came, dragging her nails down Kit’s back as her sex clenched around him tightly. Kit slammed hard into her, his shout muffled against her throat. Miranda tightened her legs around his hips to hold him while he shook and gasped.

  It was a long time before they drew apart. Kit lifted his head first. “How is your heart?”

  Miranda lifted her hand to his hot face and smoothed her fingers over his rough, whiskered cheeks. “It beats for you.”

  Kit kissed her hard, then rolled till she lay sprawled over him. His fingers trailed down her back softly, soothing Miranda’s heart in a way her potions never could. The past ten years had been terribly lonely without his touch. Remembering what she’d lost, given up, and had a chance to claim again made her smile. She kissed his chest, twisting her head a little more to flick her tongue over his nipple.

  He groaned. “Miranda, do you remember what I said about claiming kisses for each day of our marriage?”

  “Hmm.” She kissed his skin wherever she could reach easily.

  His fingers tangled in her hair and he caught her eye. “I should warn you now that I’ve reconsidered my position on kisses.”

  Miranda frowned. “Oh?”

  “Kisses are all very good and exciting, but I think the bar should be set much higher. We should make love as often as we can. In every position and place that appeals to us. We have ten years of pleasure to catch up on, and I must say I am looking forward to beginning again.” To show his intent, he flexed his hips, proving himself well on the way to being hard once more.