by Vella, Wendy
His jaw gritted as he eased up on his elbows. “I took your innocence, therefore I will look after you. You will move in here and—”
“If the next words to come out of your mouth have ‘mistress’ in them, then be warned, I am quite handy with my fists.” She pulled on her dress, then attempted to do the buttons up that ran down her back. As she could reach only a few, she left the rest undone.
He rolled off the bed and reached for his breeches. “I would support you, Dimity. I would give you everything you have ever wanted.” When he was done, he grabbed her shoulders, turned her, and finished with her buttons.
She allowed it simply because she could not walk about the streets half dressed.
“You would not have to work for the duchess anymore. I will take care of you.”
“No.”
The surge of anger gave her strength to step away from those wicked hands. Reaching for her bonnet, she tucked her hair up into it and tied the ribbons so tight she nearly gagged. Locating her shoes, she pulled them on in sharp movements.
“Be reasonable. We both experienced a great deal of pleasure in what we just did. Why should we not do so again when we wish, here in privacy? I will put this house in your name if that makes you happy.”
He spoke as if he was discussing the next meal he would eat, dismissing the fact that she may have hopes and dreams. That she may one day wish to marry. Yes, she would not be taking her innocence to the marriage bed, but people in her sphere did not prize that above all things like those idiots in society.
“No.”
“Can you not expand on ‘no’?” Frustration had him scowling.
“No, I don’t want to be your mistress.”
“Why not? It makes perfect sense. You will be safe and secure for the rest of your life and—”
“And you will have someone to bed when your wife bores you? A woman you can teach to do the things you wish, while your wife lies docile and submissive while you mount her and fill her with your seed?”
“Don’t be vulgar,” he snapped. His hair was a mess from her hands.
Dimity dragged her eyes away from the ruffled locks.
“Vulgar,” she repeated. “If I am vulgar, then you are insulting.” She faced him.
“Insulting?” He scoffed the word, angry now, like her, the lovers they’d been a thing of the past. “I offered to care for you. Many would be grateful for that.”
“I am not one of those, my lord. I do not want to live on the scraps of your affection while you are at home with your wife and family. A dirty secret that one day you will tire of and cast aside.” Dimity would not yell again, even though she burned to do so.
“I would never cast you aside.”
“You did not ask what I want, Lord Raine, only thought of your needs. Perhaps I wish to wed and have a child? Perhaps I have other dreams? To you I am simply a woman whose thighs you wish to slip between and nothing more.”
“My sister would want you settled.” His expression was dark now.
“I doubt she would want me to be your whore, my lord.”
“You are not a whore.” The words were a low growl.
“Forgive me; mistress. So much better, don’t you think,” she said with polite sweetness.
“It is the way in my world,” he said simply, and her hand itched to slap him.
“Just as it is the way that your valet spends hours ironing your neckties and polishing your boots. Just as the staff in your house leave their beds before sunrise and do not seek them again until well after the sun sets, just to ensure your needs are met.”
“I can do nothing about my birth, Dimity, nor about the way things are. I pay people to look after my family. If I did not, they would need to look elsewhere to support themselves and their families.”
She knew it was right but did not feel like acknowledging that now.
“I give where I can. Yes, I have money and a title, but I never take that for granted. You have no idea what I do.” His anger made his words a growl.
“Sitting in the House of Lords with those other fools is not doing something,” she hissed.
“Not all of them are fools, and change must start somewhere. But there is more I do.”
“What?”
“That is not for you to know.”
“Because I am just a servant to you?”
“You are not just a servant to me! Stop putting words in my mouth that are untrue.” His face was cast in stone now. Every inch the powerful nobleman who would not be questioned or censured.
She needed to get away from this man. What she’d done had been folly, and yet she would not regret it. Could not regret something that for a brief time made her feel wanted and, fool that she was, loved.
“What we shared, I will never forget, and I thank you that my first experience was wonderful.” She would not deny what he’d made her feel. “But it will not be repeated, ever. I will never be a man’s mistress, nor will I allow a man to control me.”
“I don’t want to control you.”
“I want a husband and family, Lord Raine. You cannot give me those.”
“But Diard can?” he growled.
“Perhaps, but I know if I do decide he is the husband for me, he will treat me fairly and with respect.”
“He will not make you happy.” He stood before her dressed only in breeches. Her breasts had pressed to that solid wall of muscle. His body had taken hers as no other had before him, and she’d wanted it and more.
“That is for me to find out. Now I must go, so thank you, Lord Raine.”
“For what?” he snarled.
“Showing me what can be between a man and a woman.”
“It will not be the same with that French dandy,” he snapped. “He will not satisfy you as I did.”
She walked slowly to the door, then turned for a last look at him. The beautiful earl who could never be hers. He was right, of course; no one would ever satisfy her like he had. No one will ever measure up to him either, a small voice in her head said.
“I will have another man in my life, my lord, but this one will be the man whose ring I wear. Perhaps that is Mr. Diard, but then perhaps it is not.”
“You cannot expect me to marry you, surely?” His words were mocking and hurtful. He was striking at her because she’d denied him what he wanted. Her. “I am an earl—”
“And I am nothing,” she said softly. “I understand exactly what you think of me, Lord Raine.”
Walking through the door, she closed it softly behind her. Then ran down the stairs and out the door. She did not let the tears fall until she’d put two streets between her and the man she loved.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Five days after he’d made love to Dimity, Gabe attempted to focus on the newspaper again as around him his brothers discussed their plans for the day.
His coffee had yet to arrive, and as he was the only one without a cup in front of him—his brothers preferred tea in the mornings—that irritated him more than it should.
The simple truth was he wasn’t himself. Almost as if suddenly he was directionless. Gabe was never directionless.
He knew the minute he opened his eyes what needed to be done and why. But after making love to Dimity, he felt as if someone had cut his moorings and he was now drifting at sea. A dangerous state, considering someone wanted him dead.
Bloody infuriating Dimity Brown.
God, she’d been magnificent. He had relived every second of their encounter. The feel of her skin and taste of her lips. His body moving inside her slick heat.
Christ, this has to stop!
She’d turned him inside out and then left after telling him that perhaps she would wed that French lace-wearing imbecile, and perhaps she wouldn’t.
She wouldn’t!
“Daniel sent word that Abby is still ill with morning sickness,” Nathan said.
“Let’s hope it passes swiftly,” Gabe replied. He would send her something. He didn’t like it when one
of his siblings was ill and he couldn’t do anything about it.
“He said it’s best she rests for a few days,” Nathan added.
“And I’m sure he’ll make her do just that,” Zach said.
“For pity’s sake, Gabe, smile,” Michael said. “She will be all right, and many get sick when carrying a child.”
“And you know all about this how?” Gabe glared at him.
“I hear things. And I, like the others, am heartily sick of the scowl that seems a permanent fixture on your face these days.”
“In case you’ve forgotten, I have someone attempting to end my life. Plus, I am reading the paper. There is no need to smile while doing so. And I have not been scowling.”
Where is the bloody coffee!
“You’ve had a sour countenance for days, and we know someone is after you, however, is a permanent scowl required?”
It was her fault, of course. He could think of nothing but ravishing Dimity Brown again. She superseded even his frustrations over not locating Ombrage.
“It’s not permanent, only when I look at you lot,” Gabe muttered.
“An urgent note has arrived, Lord Raine.”
“Thank you, Fairfax.” He took the paper and opened it.
“Well, what does it say?” Zach asked him with his mouth full.
“Just a moment, I’ll wipe the food that flew out your full mouth while you were talking off the paper, and see if I can read it,” Gabe said, shaking open the note.
“You are so dramatic.”
“And you are a heathen. Good Lord,” Gabe added, scanning the words on the note.
“What?” Nathan asked, instantly alert. “Is it Ombrage?”
“No. Do you remember mother’s sister, Aunt Matilda?”
His brothers all frowned. Zach shook his head, possibly because he’d been too young when she’d left with her husband for India.
“Short, with a really annoyingly high-pitched voice?” Nathan said. “But sweet-natured, if I remember rightly. The memory is vague, as I was young when she left.”
“The very one.”
“We have an aunt called Matilda?” Zach asked. “How come I don’t know this?”
Gabe shrugged. “I thought you knew. We never speak of them because they left so many years ago. You were still a sweet-natured babe who hung on my every word.”
“If you spoke anything worth hanging on to, I still would.”
“Yes, it was long before you grew up… well, sort of,” Michael added.
Zach rolled his eyes.
“Aunt Matilda married a soldier. After Forrest was born, he was stationed in India, and that is where they have lived since,” Gabe said.
“Forrest?” Zach asked.
“Your cousin.”
“I have another cousin?”
They ignored him.
“And that note says what?” Nathan asked.
“You will forgive me for making contact when I have never written a word to you before. I am your cousin, Forrest. My mother and wife recently passed of an illness. I have decided that we will be better served living in England. We shall be arriving…” Gabe looked at the date. “Today,” he said. “And if it is possible, could we impose on your generosity and lodge the night with you? I will impose no longer than that and seek our own lodgings with some expediency.”
“We?” Nathan asked.
Gabe searched the note but found no other name.
“My lord.” Gabe looked up as Fairfax entered the room once more. “There is a Mr. Howarth wishing to speak with you.”
Looking back down at the letter, Gabe tried to decipher the signature on the bottom.
“I think it could be him,” Gabe said.
He rose with his brothers and headed down the stairs.
“Where is he, Fairfax?” Gabe asked.
“He had no wish to move from the front entrance, Lord Raine.”
Gabe saw a tall man dressed in black with a young girl in his arms as he reached the top of the stairs.
“Good Lord,” Michael said from behind him. “He looks like us, only thinner.”
“Cousin Forrest?” Gabe said, ignoring the conversation now taking place in hushed voices behind him.
The eyes that turned to looked up at him as he and the others started down were bloodshot. He was pale, his skin looked clammy, and his blue eyes had dark smudges beneath.
“Lord Raine,” he said, attempting to bow while clutching the child. Gabe stopped him by grabbing an arm, as he looked about to topple over.
“I only just received your note, Forrest, or I would have met your ship. You don’t mind if I call you that?”
“Of course not. And I’m sorry, I sent it some time ago.”
He was almost swaying where he stood.
“Are you well, Forrest?”
“Merely fatigue, my lord. I have not slept for some time. Forgive the imposition, b-but I’m afraid I know no one else in England that I could lodge with.” His words were slurred, like he’d overindulged.
The child as yet had not lifted her head from his chest. She was small, no more than two, Gabe guessed.
“What is your daughter’s name?”
She wore a worn blue bonnet, and he saw sunset-colored curls beneath. Her dress was a grubby pale blue.
“Ella.”
Behind them, he heard his brothers organizing rooms, food, and baths with Fairfax.
“Will she allow me to carry her?”
Forrest swayed suddenly, and Gabe didn’t wait; he took the child, settling her against his chest.
“Ella,” Forrest rasped.
“Will be well cared for, cousin. Get him into a bed,” Gabe said as Michael and Nathan grabbed Forrest.
“Shall I call Dr. Morris, my lord?”
“Yes please, Fairfax.”
“Papa?” Ella watched Forrest being helped up the stairs between Deville brothers.
“He’s tired, Ella. I’m sure you are too.”
She turned solemn eyes to him. Blue, like her father.
“I am your cousin Gabe. Will you let me watch over you while your father has a rest?”
She nodded slowly, sizing him up. Ella had travelled to a country to meet people she did not know, and now her parent was incapable of caring for her. He felt a stab of panic. What did he and his brothers know about caring for a girl child? Yes, he’d cared for Abby, but she’d not been an infant when their father passed. Plus, she’d had a nanny.
He decided to head back to the breakfast room. Ella may be hungry. He’d reached the stairs when a knock sounded on his front door. As Fairfax was currently sorting things like beds and sending word for the doctor, Gabe turned and headed back to the front door.
“A small detour is all, Ella, and then we shall get you some food.” Juggling her to the left, he used his right hand to open the door.
“Raine, I am returning your book and wish to view your library!”
He looked over the Duchess of Yardly’s shoulder and into the eyes of Dimity Brown. The look she wore told him she’d rather be dancing on that bar he’d found her in than standing on his doorstep in that precise moment.
“Why are you holding that child?” The duchess pointed her cane at Ella.
Gabe placed a hand on the child’s head.
“Desist in jabbing that thing at Ella, if you please, Duchess,” Gabe said, still looking at Dimity.
She wore a deep grey dress that was buttoned to the neck. She looked like a governess; a very beautiful, extremely disturbing governess.
“Who is she?” the duchess demanded, lowering the cane.
“My cousin has just arrived from India. He is exhausted, so I am holding Ella, his daughter, while my brothers settle him in bed.”
“Which cousin?” The duchess scowled. “I’m sure I know all your cousins. I have a copy of Debrett’s.”
“I’m not sure that’s your concern, Duchess.”
“And yet you’ll tell me.”
He sighed. “I do not kn
ow him well. He is my mother’s sister’s son. They have lived in India Forrest’s entire life.”
“What kind of name is Forrest?” the duchess demanded.
Gabe wondered if Dimity had given up feeling uncomfortable about the Duchess of Yardly’s forthright ways, as her expression did not alter at the rapid succession of rude questions.
“My cousin’s.”
Something very odd happened then. One of those moments that unsettles you so much you are literally left speechless. The Duchess of Yardly smiled.
“Hello, sweeting.” She reached out a gnarled finger and ran it down Ella’s check.
She looked soft suddenly, less like she was going to bite the head off something and instead was about to cuddle said something.
Christ.
“Move!” She jabbed her cane into Gabe’s shin, which forced him back a step, and he wondered if he’d imagined that smile. “Who is caring for the child while her father is laid low? Is there a nanny?”
“I—ah, I don’t believe so.” Gabe looked at Dimity again, but she was focused on the child, her expression blank.
Perhaps I wish to wed and have a child. She’d said those words to him. The thought of her belly round with his child made something stir inside him.
“As you can see, now is not a convenient time for a visit, Duchess. Perhaps—”
“Ask your butler if he has a maid or someone to care for her,” she interrupted, entering his house without an invitation.
“I will, thank you.” He should have thought of that. “I will call my sister when she is well.”
“What is wrong with Abby?” Dimity was looking at him now, worry etched in every line of her beautiful face.
“She is with child and has been ill.”
“Oh yes, of course.” He saw the relief that it was nothing else.
“She needs changing,” the duchess said loudly.
Dragging his eyes from Dimity, it was then Gabe noticed his sleeve was damp. His face must have shown the horror he was suddenly feeling. The duchess tittered.
“Show us to a room, then send a maid at once. We shall care for the child until one is located. Dimity, take the girl.”
“I don’t take orders from you in my household, Duchess,” Gabe said, keeping his voice low and steady so Ella didn’t get upset.