His heart swelled at the sight.
Several rainbow-colored fish swam about, their scales reflecting the sun’s rays. How had she managed it? More importantly, why go to so much trouble for him?
He bent to dip his fingers in the cool water. A large trout swam up and nibbled at his fingertip.
No one had ever done something like this for him. Not a single person had ever put so much thought into a surprise for him, and it warmed his heart. Hell, it warmed his soul.
“Do you like it? My surprise?”
He pivoted to face her. The way she nibbled her lower lip and stared expectantly at him arrowed straight to his heart.
No doubt about it, she was nervous. He strode toward her. “I love it.”
A wide smile lit Emeline’s face as he scooped her into his arms. “You do?”
“I do.”
She dropped a quick kiss to his jawline. “Then what are you waiting for? Go on. Cast your line.”
He chuckled as he bent to retrieve his pole. “Are we to have trout for supper?”
“Cook is expecting a fresh haul.”
It would seem that his wife thought of everything. He’d told her he enjoyed fishing, and she’d not only taken note but figured out a way for them to do so right here in their garden.
He should not be so taken aback. She had a way of doing little things that endeared her to him. It had started with the lemon cream, and there had been so many things since.
The tenderness in her touch, the way she trusted him with her body and welfare, the way she spoke so freely of her past and welcomed him into her life. He found himself wanting to hold her and protect her.
If he were honest, he’d admit that she had already thawed his frozen heart. He’d come to cherish her and the time they spent together.
More than once, he’d completely forgotten the pain of his past. A few times, he had dared to want more time with her, more feelings to develop between them. Perhaps he should reach for her and what she offered.
Maybe, just maybe, she was different. Hadn’t she already proven as much?
She could have married him, accepted his nightly visits, and ignored him the rest of the time. Instead, she demanded he spend time with her. She went out of her way to make him smile and listened when he spoke.
But he’d been terribly wrong before. Lucinda’s pretty face and words had blinded Leo. She’d declared her love, and he’d fallen right into her trap. He could not allow himself to be used like that again.
Somewhere inside, he knew Emeline was different. Her actions spoke volumes.
She cared for him, but could she love him?
Her words from before drifted through his mind, ‘I could love you. If you let me’.
Could Leo trust her? More importantly, did he want her to love him?
At this point, did he even have a choice?
Chapter 12
Emeline suspected she was with child when her courses failed to arrive on time. She remained silent because she did not want to give false hope, but also because she did not want to part with Leo.
She hadn’t had enough time with him, maybe she never would. Nonetheless, she needed more for him to fall in love with her.
These past weeks had convinced her he was well on his way. She still found herself alone each morning, but he no longer pushed her away.
They had taken to spending much of the day together, rather than the hour she had negotiated for. And sometimes when he didn’t think she was paying attention, Emeline caught him watching her with a tenderness in his gaze.
Surely it meant something. If not love, then at least a deep affection.
She prayed she was right. For now, she knew without a doubt that she was expecting. She hadn’t had courses since before they married. Her appetite had changed, and she spent the previous three mornings hunched over her chamber pot, casting up her accounts.
Her heart would break if he turned away from her now.
Not only because she loved him, but because she knew he could love her. More than anything, she wanted them to be a family.
The rogue had taught Emeline how cruel men could be. He had deceived her. Made her believe he wanted to marry her, that he loved her. In the end, after she refused to lift her skirts, he’d left her. It took her years to forgive herself, and more to forgive him.
This was different. Leo was her husband. He had married her.
She exhaled a slow breath as she stared out the drawing room window.
Emeline turned her attention to Leo. He sat in a high-back chair near the hearth with his long, muscular legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. The two of them had taken to spending their evenings this way. Relaxing together.
Tonight, however, was different. Her nerves were on edge as she fretted over how he would react to her news. She wasn’t sure how to tell him. Should she simply state the fact? Or should she tease a bit? Perhaps lay a trail of clues and wait for him to guess.
Or maybe she should stay silent on the matter for a few more weeks?
“You seem preoccupied, pet.” Leo’s voice interrupted her musings. “Pray tell, what has you so distracted?”
She inhaled a deep breath. It would seem the time for discussion was upon her. Please do not let him behave as the rogue did. “I have been thinking about going to the country,” she blurted. Drat, that had come out all wrong.
Frown lines creased his forehead, and his eyes narrowed. “Whatever for?”
“I thought it might be nice… relaxing even…to get away from the city for a while.” She fidgeted with the lace edging her sleeve as she strode closer to him.
“And how long would you stay in the country?” he asked.
Emeline laid her hand on his shoulder in a tender touch. She swallowed hard. Why the devil was this proving so difficult?
She blew out a slow breath. “How does nine months sound to you?”
His grey eyes turned cold like a winter sky. “You’re pregnant?”
His tone froze her blood. Taken aback at his reaction, she snatched her hand away. “I expected…” He was clearly displeased, though she could not imagine why. “Yes.”
Leo stood, but rather than pull her close, he retreated several steps. “Very well, then. I will have the carriage readied at first light. You can depart for Kent after breakfast.”
Her heart squeezed painfully. “Me?” She laid a hand over her abdomen. “What about you?” She wanted him to come, too. To be at her side through the pregnancy and be there to greet the babe when it arrived.
She’d only meant for them to spend her confinement together. She thought he would be pleased and embrace her. Why was he so angry?
How had this conversation gone so wrong?
“What about me?” he asked, ice threaded his voice. “You have met our terms. Now you have your freedom.”
He trailed his piercing stare down her body, stopping at her belly. “At least until we know if it’s a boy. Should you give birth to a daughter, we will have to try again.”
His words cut her to the quick. Her stomach turned queasy, and tears threatened to come.
No. No, no, no, she told herself. How dare he treat her in such away? After everything they had shared? After she had given herself so freely, heart, body, and soul.
Did he truly see her as nothing more than the woman to give birth to his heir?
“Very well, but mark my words,” she pointed at him, “You will regret your actions tonight. When our child is grown and wants little to do with you, you’ll have only yourself to blame. When the nights are long and the days are longer, when you desperately need comforting and companionship, but no one is about, you’ll be to blame for that as well.”
Gathering what remained of her dignity, she strode toward the door.
Reaching the threshold, she turned back to him. “I love you. I would have loved you forever if you’d let me.”
He’d been an ass, but there was nothing else for it. Leo could not bear to have her turn him a
way, so he’d done it for her.
There was less heartache when one controlled their own fate. That is what he told himself as he grabbed the brandy decanter. In truth, the words came as little comfort.
Bloody hell! He should be thrilled. She was giving him exactly what he wanted. After all, it was Leo who’d proposed this bargain. He’d been the one to insist that all she need do is produce an heir. It had been Leo who’d insisted on granting her freedom once they accomplished their goal.
Only, he’d never seen bedding her as a task. She’d proven adventurous and passionate, sweet and soft.
Emeline was unlike any woman he’d ever been with, and now that the time was upon him, bloody fool that he was, he did not wish to let her go.
‘I could have loved you forever.’ Her parting blow threaded through the fabric of his soul.
‘Could,’ that one word stung most of all. She could have loved him forever. Not that she would or did. As if loving him were a choice she could make.
In time, her memory and any longings he had for her would dissipate. He’d apply all of his energy to the estates and title. When the time came, he would groom and teach his son how to be a proper earl and carry on his legacy.
Yes, this was a happy time.
He’d gotten what he bargained for.
Romantic notions or flowery words would only lead him to ruin, and he’d have none of it.
Leo would continue on the path he’d set. He would become the most successful earl the title had ever known and pass on a powerful legacy to his son and for his people.
When thoughts of Emeline crept up, he would simply remind himself of his goals. If that failed, he’d remember what Lucinda and his brother had done to him, and how his parents had stood complacently by as his fiancé had betrayed him and fallen in love with his older brother while Leo was away at war.
The thought soured his stomach, and he knew he’d made the right choice in turning Emeline away.
Not merely the right choice, the only viable one.
Chapter 13
Emeline spent the nearly four-hour carriage ride from London to the Rochester countryside in Kent, pivoting between fierce anger and heartbreak.
One moment she wanted to ball up her hand and slam it into Leo’s jaw, then the next minute, she was fighting tears.
His words and actions rolled through her head, and she was determined to figure him out. Nothing made sense. They had spent several glorious weeks together, and now…
How could he?
He’d all but turned her out. Sent her packing off to the country without so much as a by your leave, and with only her maid and kitten for company. He had provided three footmen for protection, though whether they were for her or the babe, she could not be certain.
The dratted man hadn’t even seen her off!
Still, she refused to accept that he did not want her. There was something else going on. But what?
More importantly, how was she to discover the truth and get through to his heart while she was tucked away in the country?
Why hadn’t he come with her? Did it all have to do with his family?
By the time she arrived at the country estate, she’d concluded that his odd and cold behavior must be partially due to his family. He always turned guarded when she broached the topic and never answered her queries.
She suspected something more than their deaths weighed on him, and she determined to figure out what that something was.
Emeline hoped this old manor house might hold some clues.
She had already poked around in the library and office, as well as the smoking and billiards rooms. Now she traversed a long candlelit hall on her way to the bedchambers. Maybe there would be some clue to be found in Leo’s chamber?
Absurd.
She could not invade his privacy, or rather she would not. It simply wasn’t the done thing. Or perhaps it was when a wife found herself desperate.
She reached for the handle of the earl’s chamber and took in a deep breath. If only she had someone other than Puff to talk to. Someone like Mother to guide and help her.
Yes, she would write Mother for advice. Until then, she’d leave the earl’s room as it was.
Hand shaking, she lowered it from the door, then continued to her chamber. Once her maid left her, Emeline climbed into the vast, four-post bed and sank against the feather mattress.
A hard edge pressed against her shoulder, and she winced. What on earth could it be? She rolled and stuck her hand beneath the covers, searching—the mattress hunched beneath her hand, a hard, rectangular protrusion with sharp edges greeted her. Something was beneath the mattress.
Curiosity consumed her as she left the bed, then shoved her hand between the mattress and the base of the bed.
Smooth leather met her fingertips.
She clasped her hand around the object and pulled it out. Her heart somersaulted, excitement bubbling up in her.
The mystery object was an exquisite, red leather journal with gold gilding.
Emeline opened the cover. A smile transformed her face, for this was not just any diary.
It belonged to the previous Countess of Morton.
Emeline bit the inside of her cheek and warned herself not to get too excited. The diary may hold the answers she sought, but it could just as well prove a disappointment.
She pressed her eyes closed. Please, please hold some insights.
Puff chose that moment to dart out from beneath the bed and swat at her hands. Emeline nearly dropped the diary as she jerked away from his sharp claws.
“Stop that,” she scolded, lifting her hands along with the diary out of the kitten’s reach. “Lay down,” she added.
To her surprise, Puff curled up on the carpet beside her and began to purr.
“Good kitty,” she said as she sank back on her heels, she turned to the next page.
Hours passed as she flipped page by page, searching for something that would help her understand Leo. Thus far, all of the entries were pleasant. Certainly, nothing unexpected. The countess wrote about her sons, hopes, dreams, and her husband.
It proved riveting but did little to answer Emeline’s many questions.
Emeline formed the image of a happy and affluent family as she read. They attended balls and picnics, entertained guests, and hosted house parties—all the things one would expect of an aristocratic family. The date was now eighteen-twelve, and the countess wrote of the war.
‘It both gladdens and saddens my heart to think of my brave boy going off to fight. I worry for his safety as any mother would, but admire his bravery and dedication to the cause.’
A line further down the entry caused her breath to catch.
‘There is joy in the face of uncertainty as Leo and Lucinda are now betrothed. When my Leo returns, there will be a grand wedding to celebrate.’
Good heavens, he’d been engaged! Emeline’s mind spun with questions. Who was Lucinda? What had prevented their marriage? Did it have something to do with his current behavior? With the way he had sent her off?
Several pages later, another entry caught her attention.
‘My dear Leonard left to join his regiment today. Poor Lucinda is beside herself. I, too, have sobbed myself dry with missing him and worrying over his safety. My sweet, sweet Harold came to me a little while ago. He held me and spoke words of comfort. Harold reminded me that our boys, both Leo and Georgie, are strong and smart. He’s right, of course. I shall have to remind myself often that Leo is well prepared for his role as a soldier and take comfort in the fact that I still have Georgie at home. I trust that the good Lord will return Leo to me as well.’
Emeline released a breath she hadn’t known she was holding. Her heart ached for the pain and uncertainty that Leo’s mother had felt.
One thing was abundantly clear to Emeline; the countess had loved her son a great deal.
It seemed that the lot of them had loved each other immensely. Perhaps their bond was so great, their kinship s
o deeply rooted, that Leo simply could not bring himself to speak of them now that they were gone?
Maybe he was afraid to love again because the pain of losing them was so great?
What could she do to get through to him? Surely there was a way to help him. Something she could do to convince him to take a chance on her. But what?
She brought her hand to her mouth to cover a yawn. The hour was now well past midnight, and her eyes had grown heavy.
Clutching the diary to her chest, she settled back onto the bed. A few more pages, then she would sleep.
‘My heart is forever broken. What is a mother to do when she has no way of protecting those she loves? That is the situation I now face. Lady Lucinda came to me in tears today. The poor dear had nowhere else to turn. With red-rimmed eyes, she confessed that she and Leo had anticipated their vows.
She’s with child. My grandchild!
She begged me to help her as she couldn’t possibly tell her parents and has nowhere else to turn. We have no way of getting word to Leo. Even if we could, he is at war. My dearest, foolish boy cannot abandon his regiment.
Harold and George joined us in the parlor. At first, Harold was furious. How could the two of them be so stupid? He’d asked as he paced the room. Their actions would leave them all ruined, and the child, our grandchild, would be a bastard.
By that time, I was sobbing beside Lucinda, feeling every bit as lost and distraught as she. We could not allow for such an outcome. The poor dear did not deserve ruination. This was Leo’s child, and it should bear his name. But with Leo so far away and unreachable, how could that happen?’
Emeline lowered one hand to her belly. Her eyes stung with unshed tears. Poor Lucinda, she could not imagine how distraught the lady must have been.
Emeline dashed the tears from her cheeks and began to read once again.
That is when George proposed he marry her in Leo’s absence. He could claim the child and raise it as his own. They would all be saved. Leo would be furious, but in the end, he would come to forgive them.
No. I had protested. I refuse to be a party to breaking my son’s heart. We cannot betray him while he is off defending king and country.
A Lyon in her Bed: The Lyon's Den Page 6