A Lyon in her Bed: The Lyon's Den

by Amanda Mariel

  Lucinda agreed. She wailed harder, her tears cascading down her cheeks. “I love Leo. I have to wait for him. There must be another way.” It broke all of us and the impossible situation we now face.’

  By diary’s end, Emeline found the answers she sought. Not only had Lucinda married Leo’s brother, but a sennight after they’d said their vows, she lost the baby.

  Emeline sat the diary aside, then picked Puff up and nuzzled her face against his soft fur. She muttered, “It was all for naught.”

  The kitten mewed and wriggled free of her hold.

  She dried her eyes, then blew out the candle. Poor Leo had suffered a great deal. He needed love and comfort, though she now knew that he would never ask for it.

  Those he’d loved most had hurt him deeply. Trust would not come easy for him now.

  Worse, she would wager her soul that he did not know why Lucinda and George had married.

  How could he when they all died before he returned?

  She would go to him tomorrow. Take him the diary and insist he read it.

  Better yet, she would read it to him. She would make sure he learned the truth. He deserved that much. Even if he still didn’t want her. Even if his heart would never be free to love again, he needed to hear the truth.

  And she would see that he did.

  Chapter 14

  Never had Leo endured a more painful and sleepless night. He’d tossed and turned for hours, rising many times in between so he could down tumblers of whiskey.

  Not even the liquor helped.

  He could not drink enough to stop missing Emeline, nor could he get drunk enough to sleep. Nothing could save him now.

  He knew this feeling all too well.

  Emeline had his heart.

  His fool heart belonged to her. Despite his resistance, he’d fallen in love with his wife.

  He made the startling discovery in the wee morning hours before the sun crested the horizon.

  For long moments, Leo stared out his bedchamber window at the inky sky and fading stars, a forgotten tumbler of whisky clutched in his hand. Devil take it, he loved her.

  And he’d cast her out. Pushed her away. Broken her tender heart.

  He shook his head at the realization.

  He’d been a bloody jackass.

  The fear of being betrayed again had ruled his mind and actions. He’d foolishly believed he could forget her.

  ‘I love you. I could have loved you forever if you’d let me.’ Her words pierced his thoughts.

  Hope bloomed in his heart. Could she still love him forever? Would she forgive him?

  He had to go to her. Plead his case. Beg forgiveness.

  Leo had to redeem himself. Had to fix what he had broken. If there was even the smallest of chances that she could love him, he had to go to her.

  Thirty miles separated them.

  If he took his stallion, he could reach her in under six hours. That would have him at her side shortly after sunrise.

  He departed for Kent the moment his mount was ready.

  Mile after mile passed, a cloud of dust trailing behind him.

  Many hours later, he slowed his stallion and smoothed his hand down the beast’s neck.

  He hadn’t been here since he discovered how his family and Lucinda had betrayed him. Old hurts squeezed his chest. He would never understand how his betrothed could have married his brother or how George could have betrayed him. The fact that his parents stood by without protest cut even deeper.

  Their actions no longer signified.

  They were all gone from this world. Emeline was here, and he loved her. Bloody hell, he would not allow the past to cause more trouble than it already had. It was behind him, and that is where it would stay from this moment forward. From now on, he would look straight ahead to his future with his wife.

  God willing, she would still have him.

  “Just a little further,” he soothed the horse before nudging it back into a gallop.

  His heart thudded when he turned down the long drive to find his carriage parked out front.

  Footmen piled the top with trunks, hatboxes, and bags stuck out of the boot. His throat tightened. She was leaving him.

  He would not let her go. Not now. He couldn’t.

  Determined to have his say, he jumped from his mount and ran into the house.

  Startled, his butler jumped out of the way. “My lord, we were not expecting you.”

  “Clearly,” Leo ground out before casting his glance around the entry hall. “Where is my wife?”

  “She has yet to come down, my lord. I believe she is in her chamber.”

  Leo wasted no more time on the butler. He marched across the entry hall, took the stairs, then traversed the hallway with long, quick strides.

  He’d come this far; nothing would stop him now.

  Nothing but Emeline.

  “Leo.”

  He pivoted, his heart in his throat. She stood before him, clad in a traveling gown. Her chin slanted at a delicate angle as she studied him. “What are you doing here?”

  He flinched at the edge in her tone. She was displeased, and she had every right to be.

  “Leo.” She arched one delicate eyebrow.

  “I came for you,” he said.

  A smile transformed her face as she started toward him. “I was on my way to you.”

  Emeline cupped his face and stared into his eyes. “I have something I must show you. There are things you must know that I am quite certain you do not.”

  Her words piqued his curiosity. What could she be on about?

  Before he could say anything, she took his arm and pulled him into her bedchamber. A knot formed in his stomach as he watched her reach into the valise resting on her bed. His heart ceased to beat when she pulled out his mother’s diary.

  He would recognize that blasted book anywhere.

  Mother had written in it faithfully every night. As a lad, he had often played nearby as she recorded her thoughts for the day. Each time she filled one, Father would present her with another.

  Every single one had the same red leather binding and gold gilded design.

  He swallowed past the dryness in his mouth and willed his pounding heart to calm. It was only a book.

  The traitor’s diary, his mind screamed.

  No, he told himself, do not get dissuaded. That book was the past. He was here for the future.

  “I read it last night,” Emeline said. “I know about Lucinda. I know everything.”

  Bile rose in his throat. He pulled the diary from her hand and turned and pitched it out the open window.

  She gasped. “Leo!” Emeline ran to the open window and peered out. “It’s landed in a puddle of water and is likely ruined. Why did you do that?” She turned on him, her eyes wide. “You don’t understand.”

  “On the contrary, pet. I understand perfectly.” He closed the distance between them. “And I hope they are all burning in hell.”

  She had the good sense not to flinch and held her ground. “You do not mean that.”

  “Of course I do. She married my brother. My parents gave their blessing. They all betrayed me.”

  “She was pregnant,” Emeline argued.

  “With his child.” Fresh anger burned through him.

  “No,” Emeline said. “The babe—”

  He dipped his head and captured her lips. His mouth moving against hers in a bruising kiss meant to distract. The tactic failed.

  She pushed against his chest, pulling her lips from his. “Don’t do that.”

  “What?” he asked. “This?” And he pulled her back into his arms, desperate to hold her. Desperate to forget.

  She turned her head away. “Leo, I’m serious. You must hear the truth.”

  “I know the truth, and it has nothing to do with us.”

  “It has everything to do with us,” she protested. “You are hurting, and because of it, you continue to push me away.”

  He changed tactics, released her, and
strode to the hearth.

  After drawing in a deep breath, he pivoted back to her. “Emeline, I love you. I came here to beg your forgiveness. To admit to you, I was a jackass for sending you here alone. I came to offer my heart, and I came hoping I still had yours.”

  He looked away. “I don’t care about the past. I want a future with you.”

  “Oh, Leo.” She drew close to him and laid her hand on his arm. “I want that, too.”

  He turned his gaze to her, searching her warm brown eyes. “Then let me love you. Be my countess, my friend, and my lover for the rest of our days.”

  Emeline nodded. “I want nothing more.”

  His heart warmed, all the anger that had been surging through him melted away.

  She forgave him.

  This caring, sweet, vivacious, and intelligent woman loved him.

  “Let me show you how much I love you.” He stroked his finger down her chest. “I’m going to make love to you past dusk and well into the night.”

  Her gaze filled with desire as she stared back at him, her lips parted, and her breaths came heavier. “Only if you let me love you back. Today, tonight, and always,” she said, her voice husky.

  Chapter 15

  Emeline’s body hummed with pleasure as she lay snuggled against Leo. He had indeed loved her for hours, bringing her to rapture time and again.

  He’d explored every inch of her with his hands, tongue, and wicked fingers. He’d kissed deeply, passionately as he thrust in and out of her. When she cried out with pleasure, he drowned the moans with kisses, and when they were spent, he held her close, making no effort to flee her bed.

  This was everything she’d wanted. Everything save for one monumental thing. He could not love her fully as long as the past continued to eat away at him.

  Hadn’t her own past taught her as much? And the emotional scars on her soul were not nearly as profound as his.

  He may say he didn’t care, but she knew the truth. Leo cared deeply. Perhaps if he knew the truth, he could forgive them. Then he could heal, and they could share the life they both longed for.

  She blew a stray curl away from her eye, then stroked her fingers over his chest. “Do you love me?”

  “I do,” he said. “With all I have to give.”

  She swallowed. “I want more. I want everything, including your trust.” She lifted up to meet his gaze. “Can you grant me everything?”

  Leo pressed his eyes closed. “You are not going to let this go, are you?”

  “I cannot, for if I did, you would never be whole. We would never be whole.” She dropped a kiss to his chest. “I love you completely, Leo. You can trust me.”

  He opened his eyes to find her staring at him, her gaze pleading.

  “Let me tell you what happened.”

  “I already—”

  She placed two fingers over his mouth, quieting him. “You do not know everything. I am as sure of it as I am that the sun will rise tomorrow. There is no way you could know the full story.”

  “I only need to know that you love me, Emeline. That you will never betray me,” he slid his hand to her belly, “or our children.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it,” she said. “And neither did your mother.”

  He groaned as he pressed his head back against the pillows.

  She found his actions encouraging, for he’d not bothered to argue or hush her, and so she continued. “When Lucinda married George, she was carrying your child. Your mother wrote all about it.”

  Leo’s gaze narrowed.

  “It is true, Leo. She confessed that the two of you anticipated your vows. Do you deny it?” Emeline rested her hand on his cheek, forcing him to hold her gaze.

  “No,” he ground out the word.

  “Then, you must also believe that she was terrified and alone. There was no way to reach you, and, according to your mother, even if they could send word, you would not have been able to leave your regiment.”

  She waited, her heart pounding forcefully. He needed time. Time to absorb the truth. Time to speak. He only stared at her, emotions passing through his eyes like summer storms.

  “She would have been ruined, Leo. Your child would have been born a bastard. He or she would have been ostracized and ridiculed or hidden away from the world. None of them wanted that. They did not believe you would have wanted that either. Don’t you understand, they didn’t see any other choice. Marriage was the only way to save Lucinda and your babe. They did the best they could, given the circumstances.”

  Emeline attempted to get up, but Leo tightened his arms around her. “Let me go. Perhaps it is not too late to save the diary.”

  She’d seen it floating in the puddle below. By now, the pages were likely soaked through, and the ink smeared. But she had to take the chance. Leo needed to read his mother’s words for himself. Perhaps then, he would see the sorrow she’d experienced and understand how helpless they had all felt.

  “No,” he said, pulling her closer. “I have no need of it.”

  Good heavens, he was fighting tears.

  She brushed her hand over his brow, smoothed the hair from his forehead. “Let it out, my love. Grieve, rage, do what you must. I won’t judge you.”

  Then he broke. Leo buried his head in her lap and quietly sobbed.

  Emeline could scarcely guess how much time passed as she held him. She stroked her fingers through his hair, over his back, and whispering tender phrases meant to soothe as he cried.

  At last, he turned his red-rimmed gaze to her. “I love you.”

  Emeline smiled down at him. “I love you, too.”

  “Thank you for discovering the truth,” he said, “and for making me hear it. Most of all, thank you for holding tight to me when any other woman would have given up. I don’t deserve you, pet, but I vow to spend the rest of my life loving you despite it.”

  They spent the rest of the night talking about the past, present, and future. She told him about the rogue. He told her about Lucinda.

  When they grew tired of talking, they made love or held each other in companionable silence. By first light, no secrets remained between them.

  He stared into her eyes and said, “You have all of me now. Heart, body, and soul.”

  Emeline stared boldly back at him. “And you have all of me.”

  Epilogue

  Five years later

  A warm summer breeze blew across the family cemetery as Leo laid a wildflower bouquet on his mother’s grave. He placed his hand on the cold marble stone that bore her name.

  He and Emeline had first come here five years ago today. It was the morning after she’d told him about the diary. The first day of the rest of their lives.

  She’d held his hand as he’d forgiven them all. Then together, they had collected flowers and laid them on the graves.

  His forgiving and generous wife had even paid her respects to Lucinda. The act had freed Leo’s heart from the pains of the past and brought him and Emeline closer.

  Every year thereafter, the two of them, along with their children, visited the family cemetery on this day. It was their tradition and one more reason why he loved his wife.

  Not that he needed another reason. She was his everything and always would be.

  He turned his smile on her as he took their daughter, Mary’s, hand. “Shall we return to the house now?” He called to where Emeline stood, holding their son, George.

  She rested her free hand over the swell of her belly. They were expecting their third child by summer’s end. If it were a boy, they would name him Harold after his father.

  “I want to pick more flowers, Daddy,” Mary protested.

  Emeline strode toward them. “That will have to wait, darling.” George wailed, his cries shattering the peaceful afternoon. “I’m afraid your brother is growing impatient.”

  Mary’s face twisted up in disgust. “I don’t want any more brothers.” She turned her gaze on Leo. “Can we have a girl this time.”

  Leo scoope
d Mary into his arms, drawing her close. “What is so wrong with having another brother?”

  Mary sighed as she turned to look at George. “He cries too much and stinks more often than not.”

  Emeline laughed as she nuzzled their son.

  Leo chuckled as he bounced his daughter in his arms. She had the right of it. At only seventeen-months of age, her brother was short on words and high on smells.

  Emeline grinned at Leo before turning her attention to Mary. “Give him time, darling. Soon he will be big enough to play with you. And I promise he won’t stink.”

  “Is that true, Daddy?”

  “You can always trust your mama,” he said, then shared a silent exchange with Emeline. “Never doubt it, poppet.”

  “Very well,” Mary said as she wrapped her arms about Leo’s neck and rested her small face against his shoulder. “I suppose we should return home then.”

  Emeline reached for Leo’s hand as he drew near, then they started back toward the house.

  Mary popped her head up as they strolled past George and Lucinda’s graves. “What will we name her if she is a sister?” she asked, glancing between Leo and Emeline.

  Leo swallowed, not sure how to answer. Mary shared her name with his mother, and they had named George after his brother. If they had another son, they would name him for Leo’s father, but a daughter… Surely not.

  “She should be named Lucinda,” Mary said. “It is the only girl’s name left.” She turned her attention to the row of marble stones. “We can call her Lucy.”

  Leo swallowed hard. He would never ask Emeline to honor the name of—

  “It is as if you read my mind, little one,” Emeline said, her tone cheery.

  Mary smiled with pride. “Then it is settled. We shall have a girl, and I will call her Lucy.”

  Leo’s heart swelled with love and pride. Emeline was the kindest and most generous person he’d ever known, and he would never forget how lucky he was to have found her.

  Still, he could not let her agree to such a thing. It wasn’t right. He slanted his gaze to her. “There are many other names to choose from. Perhaps, Olivia? That was Mother’s middle name.”