by Heather Boyd
The ladies returned, smiling happily. “Well then, you’re in luck. You have just become the final paying client of the Hillcrest Academy this year. And we are determined to prove you wrong about your marriage, too.”
“That would require a miracle,” she murmured morosely, and then smiled. “But I am willing to give you a chance.”
“Good. Now just you keep that heart of yours open to all eventualities a little longer.”
Aurora excused herself suddenly while Sylvia urged Lenore to stand. “Let’s take our discussion to the library, shall we?”
Lenore tripped along, willing to let them try to make everything all right for her. She hadn’t the faintest fear of starting over now, of living alone for the rest of her days. She may have become used to having a husband, but she supposed she had never really had Price after all.
Eugenia sat behind a large desk and brought out paper and wet the nib of a quill. “Name, please?”
Lenore took a chair facing them and folded her hands in her lap. “You know my name,” she chided.
“I ask all clients to say their own name out loud.”
Lenore sighed, willing to play along. “Lenore Wagstaff, Countess Carmichael.”
“Age?”
“Old enough not to answer that question.”
“She is six and twenty,” Sylvia answered for her. “She’s recently married. Just the once.”
Eugenia set her pen aside and folded her hands on the desktop. “How can we help you, Lady Carmichael?”
“I need help with my husband.”
Eugenia clucked her tongue in disapproval. “Love potions, if such concoctions actually existed, are beyond the scope of our services, my lady.”
“I don’t want you to make him love me. It wouldn’t be real.” She shrugged. “Besides, he’s already in love, and has vowed never to forget the woman.”
“I see,” Aurora murmured. “What do you want us to do about that?”
“Nothing, really. I just want…” She rubbed her brow. “I suppose I just need advice on how to live with knowing that about him. She’s dead, you see.”
“Dead, you say?”
“Yes, she was murdered,” Lenore admitted. “Six months ago.”
“So, no chance of resurrection,” Aurora added as she slipped into the room and took a chair.
Lenore glared at Aurora for being flippant. “None, of course.”
“So if she is dead, how has he betrayed you?”
“He mourns her still and never told me! He wears an armband over his right shirt sleeve under his coat. He hides that, too.”
The cousins exchanged glances. “How else does he mourn her?”
“He keeps his feelings to himself,” Lenore answered. She didn’t want to mention he had lovers at Madam Bradshaw’s. That was even more humiliating. “Isn’t that enough?”
“That is a problem with many men. Talking is not their strong suite, and they do not wear their hearts on their sleeves. They keep that part of themselves well hidden.” Eugenia sat forward. “Does he visit the grave of this woman and place flowers upon her resting place, perhaps?”
Lenore frowned at that. “I don’t know. He goes out a lot without me. He never says where he’s been.”
“Do you know her name?”
“Angela. Angela Berry.”
“I know that name,” Sylvia murmured, ruffling through some newspaper clippings on a side table. “Ah, here it is. Angela Berry was murdered by Lady Scott, Lord Carmichael’s godmother. The young woman was supposed to be buried in the county. Carmichael does not leave London, so I cannot see how he could have visited her grave since the marriage began.”
Lenore’s heart twisted painfully at the news. “You investigated my husband?”
“The murders, my dear. We had to know what was going on in society. Some of our clients lost sweethearts, too.”
Lenore nodded slowly. “I cannot compete with a shade, and I won’t.”
Eugenia sat forward, her hand clasped on the table. “Why do you feel that way? You do have an advantage over a dead woman.”
“Yes,” Aurora agreed. “He can reach out and touch you anytime he wants.”
“He has other women apparently, too,” she blushed, looking down. “He visits a scandalous place almost every night with his friends.”
“But surely he’s shared your bed.”
Lenore nodded. “If only I believed it was more than duty guiding him toward me,” Lenore said bitterly, and then she told them the truth of how her marriage had started, the misunderstanding that had brought her to London, and how, after seducing him, he’d fled her bedchamber and the house. She couldn’t go home to face that situation again.
“Men often love more than one woman in their lives, you know,” Sylvia said gently. “Women do, too.”
“I just wanted one man to think of me first for the rest of my life. I just wanted to love someone. I wanted him.”
Eugenia smiled. “Well, that is a relief.”
Lenore laughed bitterly. “But it doesn’t matter that I fell in love with my husband.”
Eugenia started to smile. “Are you sure it is love you feel? I know he’s handsome, and rich, but so many men are.”
Lenore nodded miserably. The Hillcrest cousins would never repeat what she told them today. More importantly, they wouldn’t tell Price. She’d have to pretend forever, and never let him see how she felt. But just this once, she wanted to unburden herself. The days ahead were going to be empty and so very cold. Loving Price in silence was the only decision she had no control over. The only real option she had was to learn to hide how she felt and never let him know how deeply he’d hurt her. “Yes, I love him. I just don’t know how I’ll bear it.”
“Many husbands don’t love their wives, and they get along just fine without it.”
“But doesn’t she deserve to have a husband who puts her happiness first? He should put her on a pedestal, too,” Aurora declared.
Price had been so easy to love, and she had promised to devote herself to him until the end of her days. He’d pushed her to accept his proposal, and she really had not put up much resistance. “I don’t want to be on a pedestal. I just want to be the person he dreams about.”
A floorboard creaked behind Lenore as someone entered the room. “I think, personally, dreams of love are not enough to sustain a marriage. Actual love, though, is another matter…and worth fighting for,” Price said suddenly. “Especially yours, wife.”
Lenore froze as her husband settled his hand lightly on her shoulder and Hero jumped up on her lap to lick her face. She clutched her dog, but she didn’t dare turn around at first.
Her husband had come after her, but all he’d heard were her complaints that he could never love her.
Chapter 22
Price felt the shock that rushed through his wife’s slender body and clenched his jaw to keep in an oath. Hearing his behavior described by his wife in such defeated tones after the horrid night he’d just experienced brought shame crashing over him.
He’d hurt his wife.
Not deliberately. But by omission, he had undermined her trust in him and faith in herself.
In his battle with his conscience, with his own lust, he’d failed to reveal to Lenore just how essential she had become to his life.
He did not want her to only do her duty to him.
He wanted her to care about him as much as he’d come to care about her.
Perhaps more than that, too.
He had always shied away from making comparisons between Lenore and Angela. But he doubted that Angela would have put up with him the way Lenore had if their situations had been reversed. Angela had demanded to be on her pedestal. Lenore never would.
It was time for him to face up to the truth—his heart had quite thoroughly shifted allegiance. He thought of Angela out of guilt, not love.
He loved the woman he’d married, more than he’d thought possible.
Ignoring the stares of her frie
nds, he released Lenore, caught hold of a chair, and dragged it to face hers. He sat beside her, concerned by her pallor and stillness. It was clear to see his arrival had surprised her. Startled her.
But she had no reason to be afraid of speaking her mind to him directly. It was a relief to hear the dissatisfaction she’d obviously been hiding so well. The fault was his. “Look at me, please, Lenore.”
She swallowed and glanced his way quickly. Her jaw set and her lips pressed together tightly. There was mutiny in her eyes, and the certainty that she was finally being honest filled him.
It was time for him to do the same.
He reached out and brushed his thumb across the tip of her chin. “I apologize.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly. “For what?”
“For letting you down. For not telling you everything.”
Her glance dropped away.
“Yes, I was in love, and I had intended to marry Angela Berry.”
Her eyes closed.
“I was heartbroken for a long time,” he admitted. “My godmother killed Angela so I couldn’t marry her, someone she deemed unsuitable.”
Lenore shifted in her chair.
“And yes, I do still mourn Angela, but I also mourn all the innocent women my godmother killed for the same reason. That’s why I wear the armband under my coat and don’t show it. I grew tired of hearing people promise that it wasn’t my fault, when I know damn well it was.”
Lenore’s eyes flew to his.
“No, I wasn’t in love with them all, but it quickly became obvious to me that I had stolen a kiss from many of the victims at one time or another. My godmother died before I could discover if there was any other reason that she had singled out those poor girls. Can you imagine the guilt I felt, knowing that I’d put them all in danger?”
“You said you didn’t know about your godmother,” Lenore whispered.
“I should have. We were close.” He winced. “I believed I’d never love anyone in any way again, after her betrayal. I told everyone I wouldn’t. And then you came.”
“You sent for me,” Lenore reminded him.
“Yes I did,” he freely admitted now. He glanced at her friends briefly. “I’m relieved that you told your friends how our marriage began. It wasn’t fair of me to expect you to keep that to yourself forever.”
“It was a most unique proposal,” Eugenia Hillcrest murmured.
“A proposition from a drunkard,” Price said to correct her, then looked at his wife only. “Badly done of me and completely unworthy of you. I’m quite ashamed I even wrote to you that night instead of paying you a proper call. I knew exactly where to find you, and there was nothing important keeping me in London. I should have courted you. You deserved so much better than me. I should have given us time to get to know each other before any marriage began, before proposing even. But given your stay overnight in my home might have become known, I thought it best to head off any scandal and marry us quickly. But to be honest, I just wanted the matter settled so I could pick up a glass of spirits and continue living in a daze.”
Lenore’s brow furrowed. “At Madam Bradshaw’s.”
“Yes. I hate drinking alone, so I became almost a perfect fixture in her parlors. But for the record, there hasn’t been another woman but you since Angela.”
Lenore met his gaze and seemed somewhat relieved by that news. “Why me?”
“I have been asking myself that same question since I re-read my own letter. I don’t really understand it myself still, but I’m not sorry we married.”
“Why?”
He picked up her hand and held it lightly. “When I realized you were not at home when I returned yesterday, I waited up for you all night. I even sent a footman last night to enquire if you were here. They said you were long gone.”
Lenore glanced at her friends. “Why didn’t you tell him where I was?”
Eugenia huffed. “When a friend comes to our door, obviously near to tears, asking to spend the night here, what are we supposed to do? Send you straight back into the arms of the husband most likely to have upset you?”
Price nodded. “By morning’s first light, I was frantic with worry. I was consulting with Runners when Sylvia’s note arrived, explaining you really were here after all, and that if I wanted to save my marriage, I’d better get over here immediately. I didn’t wait for the carriage. I ran to you.”
“I sense a change in the air,” Eugenia mused with a pleased smile as she stood. “Perhaps we should give this pair a bit of privacy now.”
Price nodded. “Thank you for looking after Lenore for me.”
“Anytime, my lord. But I shouldn’t like it to happen again too soon.”
“It won’t ever happen again.”
The door closed silently behind the trio and Price bit his lip. He had to tell her everything now, or she might never trust him. “I’ve been making this up as we go along, fumbling the change between us very badly, haven’t I?”
Lenore nodded. “It’s not all your fault.”
“Don’t you dare let me off lightly, Lenore. I deserve a good shouting at.”
Lenore wet her lips. “I’ve been thinking of going to Edenmere soon,” she whispered.
“Edenmere?”
“I’d like to arrive at your country seat before winter sets in.”
“We don’t need to go home for the winter,” he said slowly.
“But I want to go. I can barely remember the place, and now it’s my home again. I’d like to take long walks through the grounds before any snow makes it too difficult.”
“I suppose we—”
She put her finger over his lips. “I’m not asking you to take me. I know you have a life here in London.”
He evaded her finger. “Lenore, surely you realize I’m never letting you out of my sight for this long again.” His heart gave a strange lurch that he might have lost her forever when she didn’t react. “Admittedly, I’m not doing or saying the right things to prove I’m falling in love you, but if you just give me a second chance to prove it, I—”
Lenore pressed her hand over his lips once more. “Say that again.”
“Which part?” he asked around her fingers.
Her brows furrowed. “The love part?”
“I believe I am in love with you,” he said, tightening his grip on her hand. “You have to believe me, I didn’t know.”
“Oh.” Her shoulders sagged. “I’m sorry.”
“I know our arrangement didn’t have anything to do with this sort of thing, but sometimes love just happens without warning.”
She caught up his hand again and pressed it to her lips. “It does,” she whispered before kissing his hand again.
He searched her gaze, wondering if he understood her correctly. Did she really love him as she’d assured the Hillcrest cousins she did? She was smiling at him, her blue eyes soft and full of tenderness. “Why didn’t you say something?”
“I was just as afraid as you to say what was deep in my heart. I thought you wouldn’t want me to love you.”
He let out a breath of relief. “Of course I do.”
Her gaze dropped to his mouth, and a shy smile played across her lips. She put her fingers out to touch his chest, and then cupped his face. “I love you, Price.”
He kissed her hard.
Although Lenore seemed a little more subdued than she normally was at first, the strength of her embrace when she wrapped her arms about him banished his every doubt.
They loved each other, and together they would figure this out.
He rained kisses over her face and neck until she giggled and squirmed in her chair. Price pulled her onto his lap and held her close. She’d lifted his spirits the moment they’d married, even if he hadn’t realized that at first. “We’ll be going home together,” he decided. “But after we’ve been at home for a little while, we’re going to make a trip together, too.”
“To where?”
“The Duke of Exeter’s estate.�
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She stared at him steadily.
“Ah, you already knew about the party, didn’t you?”
She nodded, her jaw firming.
“I won’t ask you to reveal who spoiled my surprise, but I think you’ll really enjoy the opportunity to mingle with some of the nicest people of the ton before we return to London again for the season.”
“So we’re not going to stay in the country and make babies together?” she murmured.
“We can make babies anywhere and any when you like, my darling.”
Lenore slid her fingertips across his chest. “Now?”
The caress, meant to be seductive, stirred him only a little. He was not really in the mood for lovemaking when there were probably three sets of ears pressed against the door still. He kissed her cheek and whispered, “As soon as possible, darling. I imagine your friends will want to return to this room soon, so we’d better wait until we won’t be interrupted.”
“I wouldn’t want that,” she whispered back.
He grinned. “Oh, my dear woman. I am horribly in love with you. Every time you move, speak, smile, my heart soars with the most incredible happiness. I knew it the night that woman died. When I saw her, and then you standing safely on the pavement, I gave thanks that I had you in my life. You make me feel so very alive.”
Her lips trembled. Price had never expected to make that sort of declaration when he’d married Lenore, but he meant every word.
“I was afraid it was just me who felt that way,” Lenore whispered, pressing her head to his.
“Now we both know the truth about us.” He chuckled softly as Hero wormed his head under their hands. “How on earth did you put up with me that first day, week, month of our marriage?”
“Everything was so new to me that I just thought ours a normal ton marriage,” she explained with a fond smile. “I wanted so much to make sure you never regretted marrying me.”
“I never could.” Price sighed and pulled her closer. Regrets and doubts had almost ruined their marriage before it had truly begun. The only way forward was to lay bare his heart and soul, and protect hers at all costs. “Do you realize this is a love match, dear wife of mine?”