No Duke Will Do
Page 13
“If we must,” she said, “I will. Let me find a way to tell my mother and break her the news.”
“Break her the news,” he replied. “I’m sure it’s going to be very difficult for her.”
“I’m glad you understand,” she said, and he did.
She could see that in his eyes, but there was also a certain disappointment to him.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“Don’t be,” he replied with a shrug meant to show he could not be hurt. “I am who I am. We were always going to have difficulty when we announced it to the world.”
But she suddenly realized that he wanted her to be proud of them, and she realized that, over the months, her continued desire to keep their love secret and just to themselves had become selfish. She wanted to shore up everything they had together and protect it from the world, but now it was looking as if she was ashamed of it.
“I love you,” she said.
“I love you too, Mary.”
“I will tell her,” she said.
He gave a nod.
“Tomorrow,” she said. “I will tell her.”
He held out his hand to her, welcoming her to his embrace. She went into those arms that had become her world.
“Do you think I should write another article?” she asked.
“You may write as many articles as you please,” he encouraged. “I’m sure Royland will publish them for you.”
The Duke of Royland owned a newssheet.
It was a secret, of course, but Heath knew.
She had been writing articles on the importance of women and the liberation of their freedom, inspired by the works of Mary Wollstonecraft. She had decided it was time for women to take back their liberty as best they could in a world that was so opposed to them.
After all, women were at least half the population. Surely, they deserved a few privileges. They didn’t need to be property. They should be allowed to have their thoughts, and the daughters of this land should be educated.
Her articles had caused quite a stir, and she loved that. One day, she hoped she’d be able to petition her brother to move in Parliament to make things better for women.
She doubted it would happen quickly, but still, the work had to be done.
She trailed her hands over his shoulders, feeling the hardness of his body. It could protect her from anything. She wondered what protected him.
Was it herself?
Did he feel protected by her love? She hoped so.
She led him to his desk, sat him down in the chair, and deposited herself on his lap.
“Tell me about your day.”
“Oh, the usual,” he sighed. “Lords wanting to blow out their brains for the mistakes they’ve made.”
“Don’t you ever wish for anything more?” she suddenly asked. “To do something more worthwhile than to watch these silly fools throw their money away?”
“You disapprove,” he said tightly.
“No,” she protested. “It’s just, you’re such a capable man. Surely, there’s more you can do than. . .”
“Than what?” he prompted. “Run half the city?”
“You’re angry,” she said.
“No.” He wiped a hand over his face. “It has just been a long day, and I’ve just come from seeing your brother and his friends.”
“Oh,” she said.
“It’s getting harder to lie to them, Mary.”
“I apologize. I realize you are disturbed by this.”
“You must not apologize,” he said, holding her tight. “I am just as at fault as you in making this secret.”
Fault, what had once been a glorious thing, was now becoming something untenable.
“I promise,” she said again. “Tomorrow, I will tell my mother. We will tell them all.”
“I think I must tell Rob,” Heath breathed.
“No,” she exclaimed. “I will. I think it’s very important that I be the one. He would feel so betrayed by me if it came from you, I think.”
“Do you?” He shook his head, more tired than she had seen him. “I don’t know. He might hate me forever and think me a coward.”
“Is that what you’re worried about?” she asked, wishing she could take his cares away. “That Rob will think you a coward? I don’t think that’s possible.”
“I do,” he gritted. “Perhaps I have been a coward to steal you away without doing so openly.”
“You didn’t steal me,” she corrected. “I went willingly. I wanted you. I still want you more than anything.”
He stared into her eyes. “I don’t know what I would do without you,” he said. “You’ve given me such love.”
“You have filled my hours with so much happiness and pleasure,” she said.
He nodded, but she wondered again.
There seemed to be a doubt there.
“Something has changed,” she ventured.
“I just. . .” He paused. “I want us to be proud to be together, and I feel as if we are not. Perhaps our secret has become something to be embarrassed of. Perhaps I embarrass you,” he said.
“How could you possibly think that?” she protested.
“Because, even now, you don’t wish me to tell Rob,” he said simply.
“I wish to tell Rob,” she said. “That is very different, and you don’t embarrass me. I cannot wait to tell the world.”
“You’re ready to be a lady of the underworld?” he teased, kissing her lightly.
“Yes,” she declared. “Though I don’t know if that’s the word that I would use.”
“What word,” he said.
“The underworld,” she stated. This is merely a different world.
“And you’ll be happy to live in it, to be in it?” he asked softly. “You may have to forego the other one.”
“Oh, I shan’t mind that,” she rushed.
“Shan’t you,” he queried, slightly skeptical.
“It is a silly world,” she said.
“It is a world full of power,” he corrected. “Do not forget that.”
She would not. How could she, having been owned by it her entire life?
Chapter 22
“What the devil are ye doing?” Jamie demanded, grabbing the brandy decanter.
Heath stared at the brother who’d left London for a while, unable to settle, and then had returned. Again wild with a fever of anger that would never dissipate.
“What do you mean?” Heath queried.
Jamie snorted. “With that toffee-nosed girl.”
“I’m in love with her,” Heath said simply but warily. Jamie seemed full of ire.
Jamie rolled his eyes. “Love? You and I can’t even fathom the meaning of the word.”
Heath roiled inside. It wasn’t true. He had to believe that he could feel love and know it. “I’m not you, Jamie.”
“No, you’re not,” Jamie agreed, not even bothering to pour the brandy into a snifter. He lifted the cut crystal to his lips and took a long drink, his eyes blazing. “But you came out of the same bloody womb as I did, didn’t you? And you were left just like I was.”
“That doesn’t mean we’re condemned to—”
“It means something,” Jamie reminded, his chest expanding in a long breath. “And I don’t believe she can truly love someone like you. Someone like that doesn’t love people like us.”
“People like us.” He wanted to contradict his brother with no hint of doubt. And yet, he felt a flicker of it. Mary might love him. . . But were there conditions? “Jamie, you’re still living in the land of pain, and your story is not mine.”
“Oh, hark at you,” Jamie all but sang. “You’ve gone all positively genteel. You’ve been rubbing your shoulders so long with aristocrats, you’re talking like one now.”
Perhaps it was true.
Perhaps he had been rubbing shoulders with aristocrats so long that he saw the world differently than his brother could. “I want you to go,” Heath said.
Jamie laughed, a dark rumble.
Jamie had claimed to want to stay, but he couldn’t.
Jamie was an untethered soul, who couldn’t seem to stay still if he tried. He’d looked for ways to make money, work the streets, and was causing trouble wherever he went.
“I’m just trying to protect you,” he bit out. “You’re my brother.”
“I know,” Heath said firmly, sensing his brother’s pain. “But what you’re doing? It’s not protecting me. It’s making things bloody difficult.”
Jamie’s eyes narrowed. “I’m just telling the truth.”
“The truth?” Heath challenged.
Jamie crossed the office, slammed the brandy bottle down on the desk, then splayed his hands on the surface. “Yes. If she’s so in love with you, does her family know? Have they embraced you with open arms?”
Heath grimaced. “No.”
“There you go,” Jamie said, obviously taking no pleasure in his vindication. “She doesn’t love you, and she’s not going to. Not a girl like that.”
“We’re married,” Heath breathed.
Jamie gaped at him until comprehension dawned in his dark eyes, and his shoulders slumped.
“Ye’re what?” Jamie asked. He pulled back from the desk and wiped his hands over his face. Then he laughed, a dark, rich, rolling sound. “Oh, brother, Oi never took you for a fool. Ye harnessed yourself to a life of pain, ye have.”
He wanted to deny it fiercely. No, he’d chosen joy. He’d chosen hope.
“She’ll never accept you,” Jamie warned, his voice ragged. “Not really, not in the end. In the end, she’s going to sneer down her nose at you and look at you like the low-born fool ye are. Ye were born in the mud, and she’ll never forget it.”
Heath looked away. It wasn’t true. Mary wasn’t like that. He knew it.
“And her family?” Jamie let out a sound of disgust. “Do ye think they’re going to invite you over for Christmas, share in the pudding? Are ye going to go over for family dinners? Go to their balls and such? Just imagine when yer first mongrel gets born, that will be a treat, won’t it?” Jamie said.
“Enough!” Heath roared, vaulting to his feet and knocking a stack of books over on his polished mahogany desk.
“It’s not enough,” Jamie gritted. “It’s the truth.”
Heath closed his eyes. He didn’t want this discord. He didn’t want to let Jamie’s words seep into his brain and take root. . . But they already had. “There’s no going back now. She’s my wife.”
“She’s your wife,” Jamie all but whispered, his face suddenly tired. “Indeed, she is, and she’s going to be your misery, your stone around your neck.”
“Don’t you dare speak about Mary like that,” Heath growled.
“Or what?” Jamie countered. “Ye’re going to pop me one? Go ahead if it makes ye feel better. Oi’m just telling you the thoughts that are already in your head. Oi can see it. Ye’ve been moping around here, not like a man in love, but a man who’s been led to the gallows.”
Jamie pointed at him and bit out. “I can see it.”
“You see nothing,” Heath denied.
But at the same time, there was an element of truth to what Jamie said. Over the last month, he’d begun to wonder if Mary was ashamed of him, if she was afraid of telling her family.
What had started out as an adventure was now becoming something else.”
“She’s going to tell them,” Heath said firmly. “We’re going to tell them.”
“Right. Of course, you are,” Jamie drawled. “And it’ll all turn out happy families and joy and wine and laughter.”
Heath swallowed the burning in his throat.
The truth was, Heath wasn’t sure it would turn out that way at all. What if Robert never forgave him? What if her mother never forgave her? What if he’d taken her from her family? It was the one thing she had, something he’d never had. Family.
Even if her father had been awful, her mother and brother were good. The idea that he’d torn Mary from the bosom of her family suddenly scalded him as if a pail of hot water had been sluiced over his body. He could barely stand it.
“I made my choice.”
“So you did,” Jamie agreed, weary. “You leapt in, didn’t you? Well, I hope you’re going to be happy.”
Heath locked gazes with the brother who had defended him with his life as a child. “It doesn’t sound like you wish me happiness.”
Jamie let out a long sigh. “Oi wish you happy more than ye know, Heath, but Oi worry. Oi worry about what ye do and what ye’ve done. Ye’ve always wanted more, aspired to more. Ye could never be happy with enough. Did ye have to go and marry a lady to prove that ye were worthy? Didn’t ye know you were worthy enough on your own?”
He hadn’t married Mary to prove anything.
He was certain of it.
It wasn’t as if he’d needed a lady to prove he’d made some sort of success of his life. No, Mary had come to him, and they’d discovered each other. But she’d grown so happy in their secret together.
“Go on.” Jamie said. “Dare her to tell them, and see what happens.”
“I don’t have to dare her,” he said, his chest tight. “She’ll do it. We’ll do it.”
Jamie nodded, but his doubt did not dim. “Oi’ll be here when she goes.”
Heath snarled, unable to take it any longer. “I want you to get out. You’re poison, Jamie.”
Jamie drew back. “If Oi’m poison, so are you, brother dear. We’re cut of the same cloth, ye and Oi, and pretty soon, ye’ll realize it, and Oi’ll be waiting for you when you’ve returned, tail between your legs.”
“That’s not going to happen,” Heath said tightly.
“Oi hope not,” Jamie said, heading for the door. “But we shall see, brother. We shall see.”
Chapter 23
Mary stared at her mother’s beautiful, careworn face and swallowed. Nausea roiled around her stomach. She could do this. She could tell her mother.
“Mary, dear, do you like the new fabrics for your gowns?” Without even pausing, a smile tilted her lips and she continued, “That girl, Penelope, she’s awfully lovely for Royland, don’t you think? I’m so glad she stayed with us for a while.”
So was Mary.
Penelope had become a friend or, at least, an acquaintance she could talk to. They got on really quite well together, but she’d never told her about Heath. She’d never confided in anyone about Heath except to the Duke of Drake.
After that night at the ball, they’d never spoken of it.
Mary squeezed her hands together as she searched for the words. “Mama, I have something to tell you.”
Her mother looked up from the dress plates. “Indeed, my dear, what is it?” Her mother’s face lit with hope. “Oh, do you tell me that you found someone? Oh, that Lord Steele? He seemed like he would be absolutely perfect for you. He’ll be the Earl of Montieth soon. And you two shall be able to live in the most glorious house in the country, and it will be magnificent for our family to finally be on the rise again.”
Her mother laughed delightedly. “Well, Robert has put us on the rise again, of course, but your securing such an earldom would be the last jewel in the crown, and I could finally be a happy mother.”
Mary swallowed bitterness.
What would her mother say when she told her she’d married the owner of a gaming club?
She thought of her father and the money he’d lost under Heath’s roof.
Would her mother think her a fool?
Would her mother think she’d allied herself with a man who caused such pain and suffering in this world? After all, it was men like Heath who took her father’s money.
But it was her father, born to wealth and privilege, who had been the one to willingly go.
“Mama, no, that’s not what I wish to say.” Mary drew i
n a deep breath, trying to gather her courage to break her mother’s heart. “I wish to say—”
“Yes, dear, what is it?” her mother prompted kindly.
But as she looked into her mother’s face, the words died on her lips and her mouth dried, turning to sand. “Nothing, Mama, nothing at all.”
Her mother cocked her silvering head to the side. “Well, my dear, whenever you wish to speak of this again, I’m happy to listen. But I do hope it will soon be of wedding plans. I cannot wait to plan the affair. Do you think we shall have it at Westminster? Or do you think we should try for St. Paul’s?”
Mary looked away.
She’d made a terrible mistake.
Not marrying Heath, of course, but marrying him in secret.
They never should have made this a secret. The world seemed to crumble around her as all her perfect happiness slipped away.
She thought she’d been having a grand adventure, but it was a lie. That grand adventure had just been meant to keep her safe.
Now when it was time to confess, she found she could not.
So, ashamed of herself, she turned from her mother, who loved her dearly. She simply could not face disappointing her in this moment. Mary slipped from the room, her heart pounding, and she could scarce draw a breath.
How was she going to tell Heath?
How was she going to tell him that she did not yet have the courage to break the news to her mother? She did not know, but she would have to.
She slipped down the hall.
Her brother Robert had gone down to the country.
He was not here.
Perhaps she could tell him. Perhaps she could find the nerve to confess to him first. But it would have to wait until he was back. She knew that.
So she did the only thing she could. She wanted to seek the solace of Heath’s arms because he was the only person who could make her feel better in this world. She slipped out of the house, out to the streets, and down to a hackney coach.
She took it and raced back down to the gambling club, hoping he could give her some advice, any sort of advice.
She all but raced through the halls until she came to his rooms, and she burst in, needing him.
Heath stood by the fire, gazing into the flames as if they held all the answers to this strange world.