by Kelly, Julia
“It isn’t always like this,” he said.
She nodded. “I gathered that.” After a long moment, she twisted in his lap to face him. “Perhaps we could agree to break our promise.”
The possibilities stretched before him. He could lose himself in the woman he loved whenever he wished. He might never reach the heart of her—she might never know the awesome power of his love for her—but he could have this. The physical. The passion. It would still be an incomplete marriage, but it would be more than he’d dared hope for.
“If that’s what you want,” he said.
She arched a brow at him. “If it’s what we both want. You do get a say in this marriage.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” He laughed and kissed her on the forehead. It was just a simple gesture, but one he never would’ve dared before. Now the barriers holding him back from showing those little signs of affection had fallen, and he planned to take full advantage.
“So what do you say?” she asked.
“I agree. It’s what we both want.”
“Good.” A saucy smile curved her lips. “Now that you’re in such an agreeable mood, I have to tell you something.”
“Is it something dastardly?” he asked.
“No, but I’m sure it’ll cause a near scandal when people find out.”
“We do seem to specialize in near scandal,” he said.
“The statue in the studio is my entry for the Royal Sculpture Society’s exhibition. Or it will be when it’s finished.”
His eyes widened in surprise. “But they don’t allow women entrants.”
She leveled a look at him.
“You know I don’t agree with them,” he continued, “but surely they’ll deny your submission.”
“That’s why I’m not entering under my name.”
“What name will you be using?” he asked slowly.
“I.R.D. Although now perhaps it should be I.R.B.”
“I wish you could enter under your own name,” he said, brushing a strand of hair off of her face and hooking it behind her ear. “Everyone should know what I know—that you’re incredible. If you can’t, however, you should be I.R.D. Ina Rose Duncan. It’s who you were when you first started sculpting.”
“I had also intended to make my identity known once the judging is completed and the exhibition is open to the public,” she said slowly.
“I’ll be the proudest man in Edinburgh when everyone knows just how brilliant my wife really is.”
“You aren’t angry?” she asked, looking up at him through her lashes.
“I’d be a sorry excuse for a man if I was. How are you planning to do it?”
She shrugged. “I hadn’t thought of that yet.”
“You do have two newspapers at your disposal, although you probably want to leak your identity to the Lothian rather than to the Tattler. The gossip rag would feel a bit sordid.”
“Do you think Mr. Moray would mind?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Not one bit.”
She rose up and brushed his lips with hers. “Thank you. You have no idea what a relief it is to tell you.”
“When does this sculpture need to be ready?” he asked.
“I’ll write to the society to put my entry forward tomorrow,” she said. “The exhibition is at the Assembly Rooms at the end of June.”
“Just two months away.”
She sighed. “And there’s still so much to do.”
“It’ll come together,” he said, hugging her to him one last time. “Now, shall we make our way back home? There’s a bed in my room that would look even better with you in it.”
Ina chipped away carefully at the marble that was quickly taking on the shape of a foot. All of the major work save this had been done on the sculpture. Buoyed by her cheerful mood, she wouldn’t have been surprised if she was ready to work through tea time and move on to detail work later that evening.
No. She put down her tools and straightened. Not that evening, for she and Gavin were set to attend a ball, and she was excited about arriving on her husband’s arm.
Her husband. Her lover.
The night on Daldour had been explosive and revelatory. It wasn’t just what they’d done, but what Gavin had told her. Over the years he’d left her little bread crumbs of information about his life away from Edinburgh. She’d known most of the details, but facts were nothing without understanding how the man facing them felt about everything.
Hearing him speak about his family had made her want to jump up, swim across the firth, and make for Ashington like an avenging queen. Gavin was an extraordinary man—intelligent and compassionate, with just a dash of the wild about him. He deserved nothing short of his family’s admiration.
She knew it hurt him, because her father’s neglect had hurt her. At least it had years ago before she’d learned to wall off that part of her heart. He was her father, but he’d shown none of the protectiveness or nurturing one might expect from a man left to care for a little girl whose memories of her mother were hardly more than wisps.
Her mother hadn’t been perfect—Ina knew that just as she knew of the rumors about her gentlemen callers and her sometimes wild behavior at parties—but Ina could remember feeling loved. She’d felt safe with her mother even if the sound of fights between her parents would sometimes drift up the stairs to the nursery.
She and Gavin wouldn’t have that. She wasn’t going to let them pull away from each other until they hardly spoke to one another save over long, awkward suppers. She relied on their friendship as much as she craved their intimacy.
The clock in the hall chimed five. She shook her head to clear her thoughts, for it was time to retire to her room to dress for the ball, where she’d pretend she wasn’t the sort of woman who enjoyed being ravished in medieval abbeys.
She was just untying her apron when Norris appeared at her studio door.
“Excuse me, Mrs. Barrett, but this arrived for you,” he said, stepping back to reveal a large packing crate.
She frowned. “I didn’t think we were expecting any deliveries.”
He held out a piece of paper folded into an envelope. “Mr. Barrett instructed me to give this to you when the package arrived, and not a moment before.”
She slid a finger beneath the wax seal keeping the note closed and unfolded a page covered in Gavin’s scrawl.
Ina,
If you’re to enter Hero and Leander in the exhibition, we’ll need to ensure they arrive at the Assembly Rooms in one piece.
—G
She glanced at the crate and then at the note again.
“If I may, ma’am.” Norris cleared his throat quietly before leaning down to open the crate. It was filled with hay. “I suspect we’ll discover that it’s empty.”
Tears pricked her eyes. Gavin hadn’t just given her sculpture safe passage to the exhibition, he’d declared his unconditional faith in her skill.
“Shall I inform the workers who brought it that it’s missing its contents?” the butler asked.
Ina shook her head. “No, it’s exactly as it should be.”
She took a few deep breaths to control the stir of emotion in her. She would march upstairs to dress and plan how to show her husband her gratitude for his support. The carriage ride over should be an excellent place to start.
Chapter Fifteen
GAVIN SAT AT the breakfast table, trying to keep his eyes off of his wife. It wasn’t that he shouldn’t be looking at her—they were married and had spent a long evening together, beginning with the carriage ride home from the ball and ending in his bed, tangled in the sheets as they discovered each other all over again—it was that he couldn’t stop looking at her.
“Why are you staring?” asked Ina without lifting her eyes from the broadsheet she’d begun to steal from him in the mornings since t
hey’d agreed to take breakfast together every day.
“Should I not be?” he asked.
“No, but you’re staring so intently there must be a reason. Maybe my hair is a wreck,” she suggested, touching the ribbon that gathered her locks at the nape of her neck.
“No,” he said, his thumb tracing a path over her knuckles.
“Do I still have lines on my face from the pillow?”
“No, no, it’s not that,” he said.
“That’s not surprising, given how little you let me sleep.”
He grinned. “You’re as much to blame for that as I am.”
Her smile matched his. “Isn’t it convenient then that you enjoyed it?”
How true that was. He loved the way her skin felt impossibly soft under his fingers except for the callouses on her hands from her tools. Her lemon verbena scent had worked its way under his skin, and he was half certain he’d grow hard if he so much as walked by the damned plant now.
Even after last night, he still yearned for her just as he would tomorrow and the next day. It wasn’t enough—it was never going to be enough. She consumed him with the awe-inspiring force of a wildfire, yet his passion never seemed to burn out.
You can’t tell her, he reminded himself sternly. It was better to bottle up his feelings and settle for whatever combination of sex and affectionate companionship she was willing to offer than it was to open his heart to her and face the wound of rejection. He could love her body, but only he would know what every touch and kiss really meant.
“I thought today we might ride,” he said.
She shot him a wry look.
“Horses,” he clarified. “You’re becoming quite depraved.”
She rounded the breakfast table and slid onto his lap. “You adore me for it.”
“You have no idea,” he said, his hands finding purchase on the swell of her hips as though it was the most natural thing in the world.
Her hand slid up his chest and along his jaw. He opened his lips a hairsbreadth, ready for her kiss.
“I can think of so many other ways to find exercise,” she said, her breath tickling his unshaven chin.
His hands slid up her backside to the small of her back, bunching the fabric of her dressing gown. “Is that so?”
“Yes, and—”
The door opened. He’d thought that Ina might jump off his lap and scramble to her side of the table, but instead she remained firmly seated, twisting her neck slightly to look at a flustered Norris. His shameless wife. He’d have to thank her for that when the scandalized butler retreated.
“I beg your pardon, sir, but there’s a letter for you,” said Norris.
“On the sideboard is fine,” he said with a nod. Norris might expire from embarrassment if he came any closer, and Gavin couldn’t trust his rising cock to not make the situation even more awkward.
The butler hurried to deposit the letter on the sideboard and left.
“I believe you’ve corrupted our butler,” he said.
Ina laughed. “Just think how the servants will gossip. The very thought of a husband and wife engaged in intimacy behind closed doors.”
“You’re meant to close your eyes and think of England—or rather, Scotland—remember?”
Her lips twitched. “And what, pray tell, are you meant to be thinking about?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He touched his forehead to hers. “Off my lap, so I can retrieve my letter, jezebel.”
She laughed but retreated to her own seat nonetheless, leaving him bereft of her warmth.
He strode to the sideboard and snatched up the interrupting note without glancing at the address. He slid a finger under the flap of the envelope and broke the sealing wax with a snap.
“So what do you say to a ride this morning?” he asked.
“I’ll ask Norris to inform the stables that we’ll need the horses,” she said, taking a sip of tea. “I need to tell him that we’ll require the carriage for the Clives’ supper in two days’ time anyway.”
“We’re still going to that?” he asked.
“Why would we not?”
“Moray will be there, and I’m worried he’ll charm you away from me.”
The truth was that he’d rather stay at home wrapped up in his bed linens with Ina.
“Don’t forget, I’ve already met Mr. Moray,” she said. “And I’ve already proved I’m impervious to his charm. Besides, he works even longer hours than you.”
He grunted and dropped his eyes to the page he held. As soon as he saw the handwriting, his heart stopped. It was from his mother.
“It’ll be a wonder if Mr. Moray ever marries,” Ina continued. “It will take quite a woman to distract him from that newspaper.”
“Ina . . .” He lifted his eyes to meet hers, dread spreading through him.
“What is it?” She pushed back from the table. “What’s wrong?”
“My father’s dead.”
Her hand covered her mouth before she dropped it to her throat. “Oh, Gavin. I’m so sorry.”
He choked back the rising taste of bile in his throat. “Richard too.”
“What?”
His wife stared at him as though he’d announced he was planning to forsake living by his pen to take up piracy on the high seas.
“They died on the road,” he said, holding his mother’s letter out to her. “There was an accident on the way from the train station to the house. One of the horses bolted and the carriage lost its balance. It pitched and hit the side of a bridge they were crossing. They went over and into the river.”
“Oh, Gavin.” She wrapped her arms around him and held him close.
“My mother is demanding that I come home,” he said shakily. He stooped to rest his forehead on her shoulder.
“Of course you’ll go. We’ll both go,” she said.
He pulled back so he could meet her gaze. “You don’t understand, Ina. She wants me to come back to Oak Park and stay.”
He watched understanding break over her face. Their lives would never be the same.
“You’re now the baronet,” she murmured.
“This wasn’t supposed to happen.” His father had been a healthy, active man, and Richard had been eager to step into his shoes when the right time came. His brother had been the favored son by birth but also by choice. Gavin had neither the training nor the desire to lead that kind of life. Now Ina was going to be forced into it too.
Her lips pursed into a line, but she nodded once. “There’s nothing that we can do to stop it. It’s done.”
“It’s done,” he repeated.
“What is the next step?” she asked.
“What?”
“I know you’re in shock, but there are things you need to do. An estate as large as Oak Park can’t be left long without management. Who was your father’s estate manager? You’ll need to give him instructions.”
He knew this, but his mind felt as slow as a child slogging through a snowdrift.
“Mr. Chase,” he finally said, pulling the name out of his memory.
“Good. You’ll write to him at once and tell him to prepare for a full review of the estate and its holdings. Do you know the name of your family’s solicitor?”
“Barrow, Kinter, and Ross in London.”
“They’ll know the terms of the will. And you should write to your father’s banker as well,” she said.
He’d never had a good look at the account books. He had no idea what crops the estate was raising or the condition of the manor house. He wasn’t the son who was supposed to inherit.
“We’ll send those letters off this morning while Norris sees about train tickets.” She laid a hand on his arm. “We’ll depart for Ashington this afternoon if we can.”
“We?” he asked, his brow furrowed.
“We,” she said firmly. “Your mother and your sister-in-law will both be hurting. I might be of some use to them.”
He pulled her to him and settled her head on his chest. “Having you there will be a great comfort to me as well.”
Her fingers curled around his lapels and she sighed. “It’s the right thing to do, Gavin. Anyone would do it.”
“Not just anyone,” he said fiercely. “You.”
He was afraid. Afraid of what this sudden change would mean for them. Afraid she’d one day find him lacking the same way his father had. Afraid his mother would be able to spot the falsehood their marriage had been built on before he’d had time to mold it into something stronger. Real.
Reluctantly, he held her out at arm’s length. “I don’t think there’ll be time to arrange transportation for Hero and Leander.”
“They’ll be there when we return,” she said. “There’s still time before the submission has to be in.”
He nodded. “I promise we’ll return to Edinburgh soon.”
He’d never ask her to make Oak Park her home. Ina loved the city, and he loved Ina. Edinburgh would remain their home as long as she wished it to.
Ina let out a slow breath. “Thank you, Gavin. I’ll ask Norris to arrange the train tickets, and I’ll cancel our engagements. You should write to Moray and let him know you’ve been called away.”
She kissed him on the cheek and quietly left the room to set their life into chaos.
Gavin scrubbed a hand over his face, staring at the letter and unable to shake the feeling that everything was about to change.
Gavin hardly spoke during the train ride to Newcastle and the carriage ride to Ashington. Once or twice Ina had wanted to ask him how he was coping, but his grim expression had held her back.
She knew that in this situation her own nerves were secondary to Gavin’s, but they were there nonetheless. She wasn’t certain of the reception they’d receive at Oak Park from the newly made dowager, whom Gavin characterized as more monster than mother, and his sister-in-law, Grace, who hardly factored into any of his stories.