Romancing the Countess
Page 20
“If the talk has already begun, my lord, why not allow it to run its course? Is your pride so very great that you cannot stand to be thought of as a cuckold? Are you trying to protect Angela?” Leah hesitated, then continued, her heart quickening. “Are you still in love with her?”
He looked at her, his expression grim. “You’ve left out the greatest reason,” he said.
He hadn’t answered her question about Angela. “And what reason is that?”
“Henry.”
“Oh.” Leah started. “Of course. But you must believe me, Sebastian—he looks like you. I can’t believe that he’s not your son.”
Sebastian nodded without acknowledging her words. “I want to protect him at all costs.”
“Even if you believe your best option is to marry me.” Leah watched one of the last remaining leaves of the season drift to the ground. “I’m sorry, my lord, but agreeing to marriage seems wholly unnecessary. Henry is a wonderful little boy, but—”
“He also . . . needs a mother.”
And just like that, he pulled one of the strings on her heart, causing it to shudder and jerk and dance inside her chest all at once. “Here’s another possibility, my lord. Find someone else to marry. It will end the rumors about us having an affair, might also end the rumors of Ian and Angela, and also provide Henry a new mother. There’s no need for me to be involved.”
“Your sister told me that you’ve become Mrs. Campbell’s companion.”
“Ah. Beatrice. I’d wondered how you found me.” A vendor pushing his cart passed them along the path, his back bowed.
“Do you enjoy walking her dog?”
“Yes,” she answered. “Minnie is quite enjoyable company.” She said this in such a way that he’d have to be daft not to understand the inference that in contrast, his company was not so pleasant.
“At Linley Park you spoke of freedom and independence. I can’t imagine you have much of either here, being summoned here and ordered there at the whim of your mistress, someone to whom you’re actually more than an equal.”
Leah smiled. “If you’re trying to convince me that I would have more independence as a married woman, my lord, please do not trouble yourself. I’m well aware of the shackles that brings.”
“I would allow you—”
“Precisely. You would ‘allow’ me. Does that not imply that you would be my master, and my independence would be dependent upon your wishes entirely?”
His lips pressed together. “I will phrase it another way, then. If you were to marry me and become Henry’s mother, your only requirement would be to see to his maternal needs. Otherwise, you would be free to do as you wish. Go riding, practice your archery, go boating, walk in the garden at midnight. Whatever pleases you.”
“And if I wished to never see you?” she asked. Not because she was considering his proposal. Simply because she was curious to see how far he would take the conversation.
“We might go on outings together with Henry, but otherwise, there is no need for you to suffer my company.” He paused, then turned to her with a small smile. “Or I yours.”
Leah couldn’t help smiling a little back at him.
Abruptly, Sebastian looked ahead again. “And because it needs to be said,” he continued, “that would include any interactions which might be expected to occur in the bedchamber.”
Leah swallowed. “You mean you would not require a consummation?”
“No.”
“You wouldn’t wish to engage in marital relations.”
“No.”
“Our marriage would be in name only? If neither of us dies early and we are married for the next thirty years, you would never try to bed me?”
She thought she heard him choke. “No.”
“You would take a mistress, then.”
He glanced at her, his gaze sharp, the grooves at the edges of his mouth deep. “I will be loyal to you.”
Leah laughed, although there was no joy in the sound. “Come, my lord. You mean to tell me that you would remain celibate for the rest of your life, if only I would agree to marry you?”
His green gaze, so deep and intense, darkened. “I will be celibate for as long as you wish it. Until you decide that you want me in your bed.”
Her throat thickened, tightened. She tried to laugh again, but the sound came out hoarse and strained. “How confident you are, my lord. But what if, by chance, I never desire you? Indeed, what if I find someone else I wish to take to my bed?”
“We have both experienced the pain of adulterous spouses. Even if ours is not a love match, if you cannot commit to faithfulness now, then there is no need to continue having this discussion.”
“I don’t want to marry you,” she repeated. And yet this time it left her lips as a whisper, as if uncertain.
He stopped in the middle of the path and turned to face her. He didn’t take her hand again, or come close, but they were alone, the distant sounds of the city surrounding them but not interfering. Leah resisted the urge to step back, to escape the moment of intimacy.
“Then allow me to tell you why I want to marry you, Leah.”
Not Mrs. George, but Leah. How she’d missed hearing her name on his lips. She shouldn’t have missed it at all.
“I know why you want to marry me. To redirect the scandal.”
“Yes.”
“To have a mother for Henry.”
He inclined his head. “Yes. And as you told me, I might find any other woman to help me do the same. But I want to marry you, Leah George, not someone else. You see, I’ve become rather accustomed to your smile. Even if it angers me when I’m so determined to be miserable. And I’ve grown to anticipate your devilish antics—it seems I like watching you enjoy your freedom as much as you like exploring it. You already know Henry. I’ve seen you interact with him before, and I believe the relationship between the two of you could quickly develop into something more. And . . .”
His gaze moved beyond her head. Leah waited, then prodded when it appeared he wouldn’t finish. “And?”
He looked at her again, his expression guarded. “When I’m with you, somehow I’m able to forget about Angela and Ian. I can’t even picture her face, because all I see is you. And I think—if for no other reason—that’s why I need you.”
“You want me to help you forget your wife.”
He shook his head, muttering a curse. Then he stepped closer. “You foolish woman,” he whispered, his expression tortured. His hand cupped her cheek. “Do you not remember when I said it before? No matter. I’ll say it again. I want you.” His thumb swept across her upper lip, much as it had done before he’d kissed her in the garden. “I desire you.” His hand left her cheek, his fingers stroking over the ends of her brows, across her eyelashes as she closed her eyes, meandering down her face until he held her chin.
She opened her eyes when he made no other movement. He withdrew his arm and stepped back. “But I will keep my word. I won’t require you to suffer my company unless we’re together with Henry, and I won’t seek to come to your bed unless you ask me. Beyond my own desires, I will give you your freedom. Help me to protect Henry. Be a mother to my son. If you say yes, you will never be lonely again.”
Leah started breathing again, not knowing until the first breath rushed from her lungs that she’d even stopped. She crossed her arms over her chest and looked away, pretending to study a squirrel as it skittered from one tree to the next. “I will think about it,” she said, even though she knew she should refuse him now.
“Thank you,” he said, and she could tell by the relief in his voice that he’d expected another answer entirely. “When should I call on you again?”
How polite he was, asking for her preference instead of telling her when he would come. But she wished he wouldn’t have asked at all. She didn’t want to give him a definite answer. Perhaps, if she said nothing, he wouldn’t return.
“Next Sunday,” she said, before she knew she even meant to say the words. �
��The same time. I’ll give my answer then.”
He nodded and offered his arm. She placed her hand over his wrist. Together, they walked silently back to Mrs. Campbell’s house.
Over the following days, Leah wished she hadn’t given Sebastian an entire week. It was too long, and although she knew that her answer would be negative, part of her kept wavering and considering all that he’d said.
She didn’t care about covering up the scandal of Ian and Angela, although if it meant protecting Henry, then it was certainly worthwhile. The thought of being able to act as a mother to Sebastian’s son was overwhelming. She couldn’t help but think how wonderful it would be to lavish her attention on him, to love him with all of her heart. But she wondered if he could ever truly be hers, or if he could ever satisfy the longing in her heart for a child of her own.
Despite Sebastian’s assurances, she wasn’t certain how much freedom she’d be able to have if she married him. Certainly working as the companion to Mrs. Campbell—and also, Mrs. Campbell’s dog—wasn’t something she looked forward to doing for the rest of her life, but at least she wasn’t under her mother’s roof, and she wasn’t relegated to a miserable life simply because she’d made the mistake of marrying. But if she had her freedom as Sebastian claimed, she wouldn’t be that miserable, would she? He said he desired her, but he wouldn’t come to her bed. Still, what if her wish for a child of her own led her to request his presence, and then she might be in the same position she’d put herself in before. Her body violated, not by her husband, but by her own will.
On Saturday night, after both Mrs. Campbell and Minnie had retired for the evening, Leah sat on the edge of her bed. A week of consideration, and the doubts remained.
“I will say no,” she said aloud as she imagined meeting Sebastian on the path in front of the house the next afternoon. She would stare into his lovely green eyes, ignore the way her body seemed to pull her toward him, and refuse his offer.
“No,” she said again. Her voice still sounded weak. She stood and paced. She couldn’t go very far in the narrow confines of her room, but the movement helped with some of her agitation.
By marrying her, Sebastian offered her a child to love, one she already knew she could grow to adore. It might be the only chance she ever had of becoming a mother without subjugating herself to the marriage bed and bearing one of her own.
But even though she couldn’t deny her hope of becoming a mother, Sebastian had gone so far as to say he wanted to marry her because he desired her. Not just her company, but her. He wanted her in his bed.
As she’d done the rest of the week, Leah scoffed. She pivoted on her heel, wrapped her arms around her waist. After Angela, Sebastian thought he wanted her.
How many times when they were courting had Ian made her believe the same? How many times had he whispered to her heart before he could make love to her body? And she’d believed him. God, how foolish she’d been to believe him.
Sebastian said he wanted her, he desired her. He said she made him forget about Angela. Yet these could all be lies, meant to persuade her to agree so he could have his way.
Sebastian and Ian. They’d both wanted her for their own selfish reasons. Ian might have betrayed Sebastian, but they had been close friends. Were they not similar? They’d both said . . .
Leah stilled, her skirts swaying as she suddenly ceased her pacing. Ian had done everything to make her fall in love with him. He’d brought her presents, flowers, poems he’d copied. He’d written her love letters. He’d said he loved her.
Sebastian had simply stood there, logically listing each reason why they should marry. He hadn’t brought her any gifts, and he hadn’t tried to woo her. He hadn’t even looked happy when he said he desired her—he’d appeared quite wretched, actually.
He hadn’t lied, she realized. For, most importantly, Sebastian had never claimed to love her.
Sebastian arrived at the Campbell house half an hour early. It would have been an hour early, but he’d instructed his coachman to make circles around the park.
He was nervous, more so than he could ever remember being with Angela. She had known how to make a man feel at ease. With her eyes, her voice, the little things she said, she’d made it possible to feel like he was the only person who mattered. Her attention demanded confidence.
But with Leah . . . He must have gone through six different cravats that morning, his fingers suddenly too large and fumbling to do the job properly. Since he’d dismissed his valet once he married, Sebastian finally had to call his butler to assist him with the neckwear.
Not that it mattered. Sebastian tugged at the cravat now, unable to get it loose enough that he could fully breathe. He didn’t know why he’d returned. Everything Leah had done last week, and everything she hadn’t done—her posture, the words she’d said and the words which remained unspoken—it all led him to believe she would refuse his offer. The only reason he’d taken a chance and returned was because she’d told him she would give him an answer today. She could have said no, but she hadn’t. There was a chance. And now that he’d once again revealed he desired her in addition to needing her for Henry’s sake, Sebastian couldn’t return to Hampshire without receiving her final response.
But no, even that wasn’t the truth. Even if she refused him, he still wanted to see her again. One last time.
He pulled back the curtain and stared out the carriage window, willing her to appear.
And then she did, walking around the corner of the house from the back, taking the servants’ route. But she moved with her head held high and her back straight; no stranger would ever have mistaken her for a servant.
As she approached the carriage, Sebastian knocked on the roof. A footman promptly opened the door, and Sebastian stepped out, his arm stretched toward her. Though the day was cloudy and he couldn’t see whether she frowned beneath her veil, he smiled. “Would you like to take a drive today?” He watched her shiver beneath her black cloak, resisting the temptation to point out how cold it was and order her inside.
“Yes, thank you,” she said, and allowed him to assist her into the carriage. As he settled back against the seat, he wished he wouldn’t have touched her. All week the memory of the slide of her skin beneath his gloved fingers had tortured him, and now he could feel the warm imprint of her hand against his palm.
“I’ve decided to accept your proposal,” she said, even before the coachman had called for the horses to go on.
Sebastian clenched the same palm she had touched into a fist on his knee. “Are you certain?”
She laughed, a mirthless sound. “Would you like me to refuse instead?”
“No.”
“In truth, my lord, I thought of one reason you neglected to mention that made me realize I would be a fool not to accept.”
Sebastian shifted in his seat, unable to stop himself from leaning closer. Yes, there it was. Within the confines of the carriage, with the filth and coal smoke of London blocked outside, he could smell her scent, the same as before. God, how he’d missed it.
“What reason is that?”
Her hands lifted to the hem of her veil, and she drew it over her head, revealing a mischievous smile. “No more mourning clothes. No black, no crepe or bombazine, no widow’s cap, and no veil.”
He matched her smile, although he wanted to tell her how much he would like to again see the gown with the V at the back that she’d worn the last night of the house party. But he was careful not to say anything which might be construed as a demand or an order. He couldn’t take the risk that she would see it as a threat to her independence and change her mind.
“Would you like to go to the modiste’s now?” he asked.
Her mouth formed a rounded oval of surprise, and she shook her head. “No, but thank you.”
“We didn’t discuss this last time, of course, but would you rather I request a special license so we might get married immediately, or would you prefer that we have the banns published?”
Sebastian looked out the carriage window at the rows of houses. “I’m anxious to see Henry again.”
“Will he not be at the wedding?”
He returned his gaze to her. “If you agree, I’d prefer for him to stay in the countryside. I’d like to introduce him to you again after we’re married. I don’t think he’ll understand what’s happening, anyway, and I hope to make this no more disruptive to his usual routine than it must be.”
Leah tilted her head and studied him, two lines forming between her brows.
Sebastian forced his fist to finally relax. “Yes?”
“You seem very involved with him. Of course, I’ve seen you with him before, but I never realized . . .”
It didn’t work. His hands balled into fists once again. “He’s all I have.”
She didn’t say anything, but the lines between her brows smoothed and a small smile formed at the corners of her mouth. “A special license, then, I think. That way we can be on our way to Hampshire as soon as possible. However, I’ll need to give Mrs. Campbell some notice so she can begin searching for a new companion.”
“You’ll be able to give Mrs. Campbell plenty of notice. While I agree that I would prefer a special license, I don’t think we should create any further rumors by marrying so hastily. Publishing the banns with the announcement of our engagement will distract everyone easily enough. And don’t forget the invitations,” he reminded her.
“What invitations?”
“To your family and friends.”
“This is part of redirecting the scandal, isn’t it?” she asked.
“If you’d like, we can also invite the ones who probably began it all. Mr. and Mrs. Meyer, Mrs. Thompson, Miss Pettigrew. Mr. Dunlop and Lord Cooper-Giles. Lord Elliot and—”
“Lady Elliot. Yes, let’s do. I’m certain it was mostly Lady Elliot, in any event. But we must make sure my mother receives the first invitation. Perhaps we should invite the entire ton, shouldn’t we? As many as will fit. Then it will be upon everyone’s lips at once.”