Tears clogging her throat, she looked back to the window.
“You are quiet this day, Miss Bennett.”
Miss Bennett. Yes, there was no such pretense for false names anymore, was there? Lily angled her head and looked at the young doctor as he placed his instruments back inside his black bag after examining her. As his words were an observation more than anything, she remained silent.
“How are you feeling?”
Like my heart is dying. Like I will never smile again. Blinking back the sheen misting her eyes, she turned. “I am well,” she said softly.
A wry grin curved the man’s lips. “Miss Bennett, as your doctor, I informed His Grace of that truth more than four days ago and he still insists I attend you.”
She chewed her lower lip. Why had Derek not turned her out? Held her responsible for Flora’s abduction? She was just as guilty as the maid, Claudia, who’d disappeared after her role in Holdsworth’s plan, only to be discovered, and sent to a penal colony for her complicity. Surely he saw Lily in the same light.
“The duke is stubborn.”
The windowpane reflected her rapidly blinking visage.
“He has spent years shutting the world from his life.” The doctor pulled on his gloves. “And with his mother’s disdain and Society’s cruelty, well, it is with understandable reasons.”
She wet her lips. “Why are you telling me this?” Lily well knew what had shaped Derek into the man he’d become. He was a hard man who’d not forgive easily.
“He let you in,” the doctor said at last. He held her stare. “And I hope you allow him to stay there.”
Unable to meet his piercing gaze, she looked at her slippers. “I have made mistakes. Unpardonable ones.” Crimes that had nearly cost a little girl her life and, as it was, had irrevocably changed her. Lily curled her toes so tight her feet ached.
The doctor gave her a gentle smile. “None of us are without mistakes.” A knock sounded at the door and Dr. Carlson inclined his head. “If you will excuse me.”
She turned. Derek stood framed in the entrance impossibly elegant and magnificent in his black breeches, black coat, and stark white cravat. Their gazes locked and a wave of hot, indecipherable emotions passed in his eye. He moved his attention to Dr. Carlson.
“She is well, Your Grace,” the doctor said with a smile.
Derek inclined his head. He did not speak until Dr. Carlson had taken his leave. “Lily,” he greeted.
What was she to make of that curiously empty inflection? Did he intend to send her off, in truth? Did he wish to have her remain in the role of governess? Did he want more with her? She smoothed her palms down her skirts “Derek,” she said softly. And because she was too afraid to know that he’d come to his senses and realized the absolute truth, that a whore had no place in his household, but unable to hear him utter those words, Lily cleared her throat. “I have sent a missive to my family.”
He stilled.
Lily ran her palms together and studied them intently. “Everyone must go home sometime,” she clarified. “I thought perhaps that time might be now.”
“And what if they’ll not accept you back?” That gravelly question emerged as though forcibly dragged from him and Lily shot her head up. She’d not heard his approach. “What then?”
She shrugged. “It is not your responsibility. I’m not your responsibility.”
Derek shot a hand out, folding hers in a hold that was both gentle and, at the same time, powerful. “I am sorry you were exposed to that ugliness.”
So at last, after all these days, they would speak on it and not carefully skirt it for safer talks of the weather or no talks at all. She gave her head a shake. “You needn’t apologize. It is I who, through my connection with Holdsworth, brought that danger into your household.” She winced as guilt clawed at her.
“Oh, Lily, this was not your fault,” he said simply, as though in stating it, he made it fact. But then, wasn’t that the way of a duke? A man just a handful of steps removed from royalty could easily command and control. But Derek had never been that way. Even in his blustering shows of temper, he’d not treated her as a mere governess—but rather, as an equal. “Marry me,” he said quietly.
Her heart missed a beat and she swiftly yanked her gaze up to his. “What?”
Marry me.
“Marry me,” he repeated, raising her knuckles to his lips and brushing his mouth over the skin, sending warmth spreading from that point.
She slid her eyes closed as he dangled before her everything she’d never dreamed she could have—him. The tantalizing promise of forever in his arms was so close, and yet... She forced her eyes open. And yet it could never be farther away. This was not how this was to go.
Derek cupped her cheek in his hard palm and she started. “How was it to go?” he asked quietly, running the pad of his thumb over her lower lip.
“You were to hate me.” Lily managed to shake her head. Following Holdsworth’s machinations, Derek was to have reacted with disgust and shock and snarl like the beast he’d been professed to be. He’d have sent her off, just as he’d done with everyone else. Because magical moments didn’t happen to ordinary, flawed people. Life was hard and oftentimes impossible and those glimmers of light were so few, and so rare, that she’d long ago realized she dwelled in the shadows.
Derek brushed his lips against her temple in a fleeting kiss. “Oh, Lily, how could I ever hate you when my soul and heart are so inextricably intertwined with yours? Marry me,” he repeated with a ducal insistence in his gravelly tone.
Now he’d tempt her with the promise of light. Of their own volition, her eyes slid closed. Whores did not marry dukes. “Y-you cannot marry me.” The agonized words contained regret that came from deep inside her soul. “You cannot marry a woman who gave her innocence to your brother and who was mistress for six years to another man.”
He dropped his brow to hers. “I am a duke. I can do whatever I bloody well wish. And you are that wish.”
Derek touched his lips to hers in a gentle meeting. That delicate, soft caress was proof this was truly real and, on occasion, magical moments did happen to those ordinary, flawed people such as her. Lily tangled her hands about his neck and angled her head to receive his kiss. He parted her mouth with his and she allowed him entry, their tongues coming together in a joining born of more than mere desire and hungering, but of love and healing.
Then reality intruded its ugly head and she jerked her head back, pulling away from his kiss. “I cannot,” she rasped, stumbling from him.
He frowned and blinked several times. “Of course you can. You—”
“Stop,” she cried, holding her palms up to ward him off. For the part she’d allowed herself to believe did not truly matter hovered between them, as it had since she’d stepped foot inside his household. The memory of Holdsworth would not go away. And her association with that man would forever be between her and Derek—even as she’d spent the past week thinking it didn’t matter. It did and always would. “I love you,” she whispered, “but I cannot marry you. Not with all that came to pass.”
His body went still. “What are you saying?” The confusion in his gaze ravaged her and she hated she could not have him as hers, forever.
Lily palmed his beloved, scarred cheek. “Derek, you are not a man who forgives. Lord St. Cyr is proof of that.” She let her hand fall to her side. “Someday, if not today, you would eventually come to resent me for the loss of that diamond—”
“I did not want that bloody diamond,” he bit out. “I turned it over to the king’s advisors. It was never about the diamond,” he said with an incessant edge to his words.
“No,” she said sadly. “But Flora will have nightmares of what happened to her and who will you blame? Or having had to kill those two men? What happens when the guilt of that haunts you?” Lily clasped her fingers tight at her sides. “No, I could not bear it when that time comes.”
“I have killed too many men in my life,
but those two who harmed you and Flora, I would gladly kill all over again, without compunction.” White lines of fury formed at the corners of his mouth and he gripped her by the shoulders. “Is that the manner of man you think I am?” Shock and hurt laced his words, tugging at her heart. “A punishing sort?”
“No. I think you are a man who loves deeply,” she said simply. “And that is why you will someday hate me for the pain I brought to you and Flora.” Yes, eventually her association with Holdsworth would kill all love he’d had for her. Agony pulled at her heart. “I love you,” with all I am, and all I will ever be, “and you are all I have ever wanted in life, Derek.” Hope flared in his eye and she forced her gaze away. “But sometimes love is not enough.” Lily turned on wooden legs and strode over to her packed valise.
“You are leaving.” There was a hollow emptiness to those words that chilled her.
Lily nodded once. “I have to. The gossip columns, they have already spoken of you.” And me. “And for Flora’s benefit, you cannot keep me here.” She fiddled with the latches of her worn case.
The floorboards groaned as Derek strode forward. He stopped before her and, with his knuckles, tipped her chin up. “My family has wronged you in ways I can never make right.”
She stiffened. Is that what drove his offer of marriage? Some silly sense of atonement? She’d thrown away her virtue. It had not been stolen in an act of violence, but with a glib tongue she’d fallen prey to. That belonged to her. She’d accepted it. Derek must now, too. “You needn’t offer for me because of mistakes that were mine and your brother’s,” she said between tight lips.
“Is that what you think?” he asked, his low, gravelly baritone giving no hint to his thoughts. “Do you think I would wed you because of that?”
Lily captured her lower lip between her teeth.
“Poor, Lily,” he whispered and brushed his lips over her cheek in a fleeting caress. “You’ve spent so many years betrayed by those who were to have cared for you, that you convinced yourself you’re not a person to be loved. But you are,” he murmured. He drew her back against his chest and then put his lips to her ear. His breath, the scent of coffee and chocolate, wrapped about her senses, making him real in ways she did not want him to be in this moment. “I love you.” She caught the inside of her cheek hard as he skimmed his knuckles over her jaw. “I love you because you are everything that is strong and courageous.” His hoarse voice washed over her. “You have survived despite the ugliness of the world and with your spirit, restored happiness to mine in a way that no one and nothing could.” He dropped his brow to hers. “Why would you run from me? How have you not realized I am not like the others? I will never leave you.”
Her throat worked spasmodically as she allowed him to angle her head up. He ran his thumb over her trembling lower lip. “I love you,” he whispered.
Let go. Give yourself to him. Trust...
“Marry me,” he urged.
How long had she believed herself undeserving of goodness and kindness and love? Only Derek had ever seen her worth, opened her eyes to it. He made her see something more than the acts that had defined her for seven years and now he offered her the world she’d thought long ago closed to her; one with a loving husband and, some day, babes.
If she but took it.
Lily fluttered her eyes open and this man, who looked at her with love shining from the depths of his fathomless eye, bore no hint of the angry stranger she’d met more than a fortnight ago.
In his gaze, she saw reflected back all her deepest yearnings to love, and be loved, and to celebrate life. I want that with him. Only him. Forever. All these years, she’d mourned the loss of her family, only to find it now, here with Derek.
Mayhap later there would be peace with her parents and siblings, but even if there never was forgiveness, she had a new family. One who loved her without reservation and judgment.
The sins of her past slipped away; freeing her from guilt and fear and pain. Because of him. Nay, because of them, together.
She leaned up on tiptoe and claimed his lips in a gentle kiss.
Derek drew back. “Is that a yes, love?” Emotion roughened his words.
She smiled softly. “That is a yes.”
Epilogue
London, England
Two Months Later
The rhythmic clip of Derek’s footfalls and Lily’s slippered steps echoed softly off the carpeted halls, the sound punctuated by the muffled thump of his cane upon the floor.
With Lily’s guidance and gentle encouragement and Flora’s cheerful presence, he’d reentered the living. Nay, he’d done that the moment Lily had entered his life and shown him how to laugh and smile and love. They had also drawn him outside, into the world, braving stares and whispers, to feel the warmth of the sun on his skin.
Gaze trained forward on the butler leading them to the parlor, Derek’s mouth went dry. For this was no visit to Hyde Park or trip to Gunter’s with Lily and Flora. This household was a place he had no right being.
I should not be here.
His wife slid her gloved fingertips into his and cast upward an encouraging smile. It will be all right, she mouthed.
Under her quiet assurance, his throat worked. How very different his smiling, bright-eyed wife was from the wary lady who’d first entered his home. In a way, they’d healed each other. He’d gone from an empty, cold shell of a person to a man who reveled in love and laughter, and who also brought two other people joy.
The butler drew them to a stop beside a not unfamiliar parlor.
His palms moistened inside his gloves. For even having been healed, there was still regret that moved beyond his own past sufferings.
“The Duke and Duchess of Blackthorne.” The butler stepped aside and backed from the room.
The flawlessly golden Marquess and Marchioness of St. Cyr stared back. At one time, their united perfection would have grated. It would have served as a reminder of the marks upon his person and his aloneness in the world.
No longer. A small smile pulled at his lips.
Christian stood, stoically silent, then his wife, Lady St. Cyr smiled back. “It is so, so lovely to see you again, Your Grace,” she said with a warmth that met her eyes.
Why would she be so kind? To him? Why, when he’d brought her family nothing but pain? Sketching a rusty bow, Derek spoke in hushed tones. “It is an honor, my lady.” The pall of silence descended and he returned his attention to an immobile Christian. The other man’s face set in a mask gave no hint of his thoughts or emotions. There are so many words I owe him. So many apologies he’s deserving of; useless words that can never right the wrongs I’ve done. “Christian,” his voice emerged garbled. Unable to meet the directness of the other man’s gaze, he glanced down a moment at the head of his new cane; the gold-filled handle, stamped with lilies at his niece’s insistence, represented everything light. Gone was the serpent meant to represent darkness. This new one served a functionality; a sturdiness that represented his and Lily’s future, a joyous one with Flora in it. His throat worked as he looked to his wife’s still flat tummy. A family that would see additional life added to their fold in seven months’ time.
He searched for words.
Lily gave the fingers of his other hand a slight squeeze; an assurance that she was here, that she would always be there, and he found strength in her. In them. Warmth filled his heart and shoving aside his reservations, Derek drew back his hand and limped over to his friend. He held a palm up. “I am so very sorry, Christian.” For everything: for their shattered innocence, for the horrors that would always be with them, for shutting him out, and lamenting his deserved happiness. “I—”
“Do not say another word,” Christian said, his voice hoarse and Derek’s palm wavered.
The mask slipped and a spasm of emotion contorted Christian’s face. He placed his hand in Derek’s. “There is nothing to forgive. There never was.” The muscles of his throat bobbed. “Oh, how I have missed you, frien
d.”
“And I you,” Derek said, his voice hoarse. A calming peace filled him. There would never be a full freedom from the hell that would forever haunt his nightmares, but there was forgiveness.
There was a healing found in Flora’s effervescent spirit, his friend’s forgiveness, and in his wife’s love.
Derek closed his eye.
After eight long years, he was at last, home.
The End
Coming April 1st, 2016
Lords of Honor Book 4
Tempted By a Lady’s Smile
For first glimpse of the cover, blurb, and excerpt for “Tempted By a Lady’s Smile” and the May 2016, “Heart of a Duke” release, visit www.christicaldwell.com or sign-up for my newsletter. http://bit.ly/1Ngqcfj
Other Books by Christi Caldwell
“To Trust a Rogue”
Book 8 in the “Heart of a Duke” Series by Christi Caldwell
A rogue
Marcus, the Viscount Wessex has carefully crafted the image of rogue and charmer for polite Society. Under that façade, however, dwells a man whose dreams were shattered almost eight years earlier by a young lady who captured his heart, pledged her love, and then left him, with nothing more than a curt note.
A widow
Eight years earlier, faced with no other choice, Mrs. Eleanor Collins, fled London and the only man she ever loved, Marcus, Viscount Wessex. She has now returned to serve as a companion for her elderly aunt with a daughter in tow. Even though they’re next door neighbors, there is little reason for her to move in the same circles as Marcus, just in case, she vows to avoid him, for he reminds her of all she lost when she left.
Reunited
As their paths continue to cross, Marcus finds his desire for Eleanor just as strong, but he learned long ago she’s not to be trusted. He will offer her a place in his bed, but not anything more. Only, Eleanor has no interest in this new, roguish man. The more time they spend together, the protective wall they’ve constructed to keep the other out, begin to break. With all the betrayals and secrets between them, Marcus has to open his heart again. And Eleanor must decide if it’s ever safe to trust a rogue.
Rescued By a Lady's Love (Lords of Honor, #3) Page 33