She shook her head. “It is not enough just to forgive. When the time is right, I will host a ball as the new viscountess. My parents will be the guests of honor, and the ton will see that my father’s claims of innocence are accepted by your family.”
“Leah, he was the only person to benefit.”
“He didn’t take the money he won from the wager.”
“Someone did.”
She sat back, startled. “I didn’t know that. But it wasn’t my father. Devon, I know him. He would not do that. And you must believe me, because if you don’t, there can never be peace between our families.”
“You may be asking too much.”
“I am asking you to accept his word as a gentleman. I don’t know what your grandfather and your aunt have told you about the race, but Father said that he and your father had become friends at school. They thought the feud ridiculously old-fashioned. They were having fun.”
“There was money involved, Leah. Money makes people do things they wouldn’t normally do.” He sighed in exasperation and shifted Ben’s weight in his arms. “I’m not saying that he tampered with that lynchpin in an attempt to murder my mother and father. But I am saying that he may have done something innocent with tragic consequences.”
“He didn’t do it,” she repeated. “But he has paid the price. Oh, Devon, he has faults. He’s a terrible gambler, but he’s not a murderer.”
Devon squelched the urge to deny that statement. Meeting her requests was not going to be as easy as he’d first supposed. He could put the past aside for his son, but could he believe Carrollton innocent?
He ran his hand along Ben’s arm, feeling the baby’s muscles stretch and respond to his touch. His son pouted his lips. Devon had not seen him do that before.
What did Carrollton’s innocence matter? Devon could pretend he thought Carrollton a saint if it made Leah happy. Anything for the privilege of raising this child.
Still, he couldn’t help feeling he was betraying his grandfather. He shot a glance at the sleeping figure in the middle of the huge bed.
Leah was his wife…and he knew it wasn’t just for Ben that he was making this agreement.
He spoke. “If your father said that he had nothing to do with the accident, then I believe him.”
She released the breath she’d been holding. Her eyes shone with thankful relief. “You have not misplaced your loyalty.”
“What is your third request?” he asked, changing the subject.
“I want an allowance.”
This request seemed ridiculously easy after the other two. “Of course. You are my wife. I will cover all your expenditures.”
“No, Devon,” she admonished him gently. “I want my own money. Money I can spend without answering to you or anyone.”
“Why?”
“If I told you why, then there would be no reason for my request.”
It seemed such a small matter, and yet he couldn’t help a niggling doubt of jealousy. “Leah,” he started.
“Devon,” she countered, the set of her chin stubborn…and he capitulated. Money wasn’t worth a battle.
“I will settle funds into an account for you. I’ll give you five hundred pounds. That should be enough for anything you desire.”
“Thank you.” Her pleasure radiated from her. She stood and very sweetly, very sedately, kissed him again. “I promise that I am going to be a willing wife to you in every way, Devon. You will have no cause to doubt me.”
He hoped not. He’d just agreed to give her enough money to travel the world three times over.
Nor did she linger over her gratitude. She scooped Ben up, and with a hasty “Good night” would have whisked herself and her son out of the room except that something had hold of her dress and pulled her back. She turned, a hand already reaching to release her skirt from whatever it was that prevented her exit. She discovered Devon’s fist holding a good-sized portion of her velvet skirt.
She paused. “Did you want something else?”
Devon nodded. He twisted the material in his hand until she had no choice but to shuffle backward to him. “You thought that was a kiss?”
Her lashes lowered as her gaze shifted with longing toward the door. He coiled the material around his hand another time, forcing her back to stand between his legs. He released the material and came to his feet. “This is a kiss to seal a bargain like the one we’ve just made,” he said, his hands on her shoulders, turning her to face him.
Yesterday, in the coach, he had kissed her in anger. Her kisses had always been somewhat chaste.
This time, he kissed as the man who would claim her.
His embrace included Ben. He was careful not to crush the baby, but he would give no quarter to Leah. At first, she tried to turn her head, but he had anticipated the move. His lips caught hers.
Vibrant, headstrong Leah. It was time she learned he could master her.
She resisted. She fought for control. But Devon was patient. He knew kissing, the nuances and secrets of a woman’s mouth. He slid his tongue along her lower lip, tickling her so that she gasped and he could take fuller advantage. Slowly, her eyes fluttered closed, and she gave herself up to his kiss.
Mine, he wanted to tell her, you are mine. He found her tongue, sucking it gently and then with more force—and then she was kissing him back. It was a lightning moment. One second she resisted; in the next, she consented.
He taught her how it was between a man and a woman. Her breath mingled with his. His thumb rested on the pulse point at her neck, and he could measure the race of her heart.
It matched the excited beat of his own.
Sweet, willful Leah. She was his mate, his desire, his passion.
Reluctantly, he ended the kiss. Her lashes lifted, and he found himself staring into two gloriously astounded eyes. His own breathing was ragged.
“That is how you settle a bargain,” he said.
She nodded mutely.
He lifted his hands from her shoulders. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
She nodded again and started for the door, walking in a dazed, beeline pattern.
Devon grinned, well pleased with himself. At the door, she paused with one last look backward. “Good night,” he said.
She didn’t answer but opened the door with a soft sigh, and slipped through…but before the door closed, he overheard her shuddering, “Oh dear.”
He could have done a jig for joy.
Needing to crow, he whirled on his grandfather. “She knows she belongs with me now, doesn’t she? All this time, I’ve been treating her with kid gloves when what she really needed was to be completely and thoroughly kissed.”
He sat in the chair and leaned forward, his elbows on his thighs. “I have great plans, Grandfather,” he said, energized with happiness and with no one else to confide in. “I’m going to build an empire the likes of which has never existed before. My ships will trade in every port and my warehouses will be full to overflowing. I’m going to do it all for her. And for Ben,” he added quietly. “All of it will someday be Ben’s.”
Was it his imagination, or did his grandfather’s mouth curve into the faintest hint of a smile?
Devon shook his head. He was becoming fanciful, but that was fine. The world was suddenly a very good place to be. Maybe Leah didn’t love him yet, but she wasn’t unaffected by him.
He’d just have to keep kissing her.
“Huxhold.”
Devon heard someone calling his name. It was Grandfather’s voice, faint and weak as if he were far away.
“Huxhold.”
Slowly, Devon realized he was dreaming. Against his best intentions, he had fallen asleep. He sat up abruptly, disoriented.
“Huxhold.” The voice was rusty from sleep, but the eyes were sharp and alert.
Devon leaned across the bed. “What is it, Grandfather?”
“What time is it?”
“Time?” Devon questioned, still groggy. He rubbed his eyes and searched
for the clock he’d heard ticking. “Why, it is half past seven.”
“I want Partridge. Send him in. Tell him I want my breakfast. Something substantial.”
“Breakfast?” At last Devon came awake. “Do you mean you are hungry?”
“Famished.” He struggled to sit. Devon helped by placing a pillow behind his back. “Where’s that son of yours? I’d like to see him too. And I need some wine. Something to thicken my blood. Partridge will know what I mean.”
Bemused, Devon couldn’t help but see in the man’s interminable will a reflection of himself. “Does this mean you’ve decided not to die?”
His grandfather’s lips twisted into a faint smile. “Not today.” He held out a shaky hand. “Look at me. It was almost too late, but your coming has given me life.”
Devon grasped his grandfather’s hand. “I want our past differences behind us.”
“And I want to see my great-grandson grow. I’ve done it wrong once, but Arrie was right. We do get another chance if we are lucky enough to recognize them. I’ll be a better grandfather to Ben.”
“This Arrie must have been a remarkable woman.”
The marquess’s eyes grew shiny. “She was the only person who ever challenged me. Other than you.”
“I never thought to hear you claim that as a good thing.”
“It’s not!” he answered and then gave a sharp bark of laughter. Devon realized he’d rarely heard his grandfather laugh. Then the man sobered. “All these years I thought I knew best. I ruled, but I never loved. Don’t make my mistake, Huxhold.” He frowned. “What’s the matter with you?”
“I’m just having a hard time believing you,” Devon answered honestly. “You’ve always been so certain, so autocratic. It is almost as if some other man has taken possession of your body.”
“I loved her, Devon. She made me see myself. Women have a habit of doing that.”
Devon thought of Leah. “Yes, they do.”
“Now, go on,” his grandfather said. “Get Partridge and you go see to your wife and son. I’ll not be meeting my Maker anytime soon.”
Nodding, Devon went to do his bidding. The footman guarding the sickroom said Dr. Partridge had sent word upstairs that he’d arrived but was enjoying a bit of breakfast in the Morning Room. Devon decided to fetch the doctor himself.
The Morning Room was much smaller than the formal dining room and overlooked the back garden. It was a pleasant place even on the darkest of days. Devon found the doctor helping himself to a hearty breakfast. He explained what had happened and his grandfather’s demand for breakfast.
Dr. Partridge chuckled. “Kirkeby may make it after all.” He addressed the butler, “Wills, prepare a tray for Lord Kirkeby. Thin porridge as usual, but let us add a bit of butter to it and some of those fresh buns Cook prepared this morning.”
“Yes, sir,” Wills said and motioned for a footman to carry out the order.
“I’d like a bath sent up to my room,” Devon said.
“Yes, my lord. I’ll see to it.”
“This house is old-fashioned,” Devon said to the doctor. “I sometimes wonder if the family shouldn’t sell it and purchase something more modern.”
“You won’t get Kirkeby to agree to that. I’ve been egging him for years to modernize.” Dr. Partridge wiped his mouth and set his napkin beside his plate. “Well, I’d best attend to my patient.”
“I’ll go back up with you,” Devon said. He followed Dr. Partridge out into the hall. “You said there was nothing physically wrong with him. You are still convinced this is so?”
“Absolutely. I’m also certain that your presence has been better than any tonic.”
Climbing the stairs behind the doctor, Devon feared it wasn’t his presence that mattered but Ben’s. “Tell me more about Arrie,” he said.
Dr. Partridge stopped at the top of the stairs. “She was a nurse I’d advised your grandfather to hire. He has trouble moving now. The steps are hard for his joints, and he needed someone to bully him or he’d have the servants carrying him here and there and catering to his every whim. Plus, if I may make an observation based upon my long association with your family—?”
“Please do.”
“Lady Vainhope thinks she has her father’s best interests at heart but her constant coddling makes him feel older than he is. Her constant complaining about you and the behavior of others also wears on him. Kirkeby is a man of rigid principles. I used to tell him it was not healthy to want to control everything. Only God is perfect, and even He had difficulties at time, but Kirkeby refused to listen to me.”
“Do you believe she did it on purpose?”
The doctor shrugged. “I like to believe her heart is in the right place, but I was relieved when Kirkeby agreed to hire Mrs. Oswald. She was an apothecary’s widow and knew a thing or two not only about sickness but also about the little tricks the mind can play on each of us. I’d worked with her husband and respected him. Of course, when he died, he left her penniless.”
“So, you were helping her out, too.”
“It seemed a good match,” Dr. Partridge conceded. “But I didn’t expect her to have the impact on Kirkeby that she did. Arrie wasn’t ever a great beauty, but she was a handsome woman and a comfortable one. I know you can’t imagine it now, young buck that you are, but when a man reaches a certain age, beauty no longer holds appeal. Comfort, on the other hand, is priceless.”
“Apparently Mrs. Oswald was more than just a comfort to Grandfather.”
The doctor agreed. “I have known him for over forty years. He became a new man within a week of being around Arrie. It was a miraculous transformation.” He took off his glasses and cleaned them with a piece of flannel he pulled from his pocket. “If a man like Kirkeby can fall in love at his age, any of us can.”
“He really fell in love?”
“Head over heels like any green youth. They were even lovers. If you have inherited your grandfather’s stamina, then your reputation is well deserved. Arrie confided to me that she was a happy woman.”
His comment made heat creep up Devon’s neck. He was uncomfortable discussing his grandfather’s, and his, sex life. He changed the subject. “How did she die?”
“Suddenly. It must have been her heart. She passed on in her sleep right there beside Kirkeby in bed. He was distraught. I attended the death of your parents and his wife. I’ve never seen him like he was that day over Arrie.”
Devon asked the question most on his mind. “If he begins to eat and follow your directions, will he recover?”
“I don’t see why not. True, he’s not a young man. His heart or liver or kidneys could go at any time. But he could also live another ten years or more. Certainly he is stubborn enough to do that.”
“That’s an understatement.” Devon held out his hand. “Thank you, Doctor.”
“You are welcome, my lord.”
The footman opened the double doors to the marquess’s room and stepped out into the hall. “Dr. Partridge, Lord Kirkeby has asked me to tell you, and I quote, to stop jawboning and get yourself in here pell-mell.”
Partridge smiled. “Kirkeby is vastly improving.” He walked down the hall to answer his patient’s summons.
Devon watched him go, realizing he had another problem. He wanted his grandfather to improve. Ben’s presence made Devon hungry for a connection with his family—especially if both he and his grandfather passed to a stage where they might be able to understand each other better.
However, that meant that Leah must be willing to keep secrets—something Devon wasn’t certain she would do…unless he gave her something else to worry over.
He opened the door to their bedroom.
The drapes were still pulled tight. The fire had died. His wife slept in the middle of the bed, Ben cradled close in spite of the crib being close at hand beside the bed.
Her worn, bedraggled petticoat had been slipped over one shoulder as if she’d fed Ben and fallen to sleep. Devon’s full view of the
exposed breast was blocked by his son’s head.
“Lucky, lucky little Ben,” he whispered. He pulled the sheet up over his wife even as a knock sounded on the door.
He opened the door to let in the footmen, who were carrying buckets of water. One of the footmen removed a copper tub from a closet, while another rebuilt the fire. Then they filled the tub with fresh warm water.
“Is there anything else, my lord?”
“No, that is enough,” Devon answered. He waited for the door to close behind them before walking over to the bed. Leah must really be tired to sleep through that. He leaned over and softly called her name.
She frowned, wanting to push him away. “No, no, Leah, it is time to wake up and start to keep your end of the bargain.”
“What bargain?” she mumbled.
“The one where you offered to be the willing wife.” He carefully picked up Ben and transferred him to the crib.
Leah rolled over, giving him a tantalizing glimpse of brownish red nipple, before shrugging her chemise strap back up so that it didn’t interfere with her movement. “I’m tired,” she murmured. “I can’t get up.”
“But you must, Leah. We agreed.”
She opened one disenchanted eye. “I can’t do that now. My body isn’t healed. Besides, doing that is the furthermost from my mind right now. I want to sleep.”
“Charming euphemism, ‘that’” Devon answered. “You make it sound like a disagreeable chore instead of a slice of heaven.”
She grunted her response.
Obviously Draycutt had been a clumsy lover, a thought that did not displease Devon. Gracing her with an eye-opening thump on the rump, he said, “Doing that isn’t what I had in mind.”
“What did you have in mind?” She sounded irritated, grumpier.
“Why, wife,” he said cheerfully, “I wish you to wash my back.”
He had her attention now.
CHAPTER 14
Leah didn’t understand why Devon was so wide awake—or expecting her to do the inane and wash his back, which she wouldn’t.
She frowned. “I need sleep,” she argued. And it was all his fault, too. That kiss he’d given her had kept her awake most of the night. Who would have thought a simple kiss could have such power? Even now, the thought of it spread through her sleep-deprived limbs and set her blood humming.
A Scandalous Marriage Page 17