Debt of Honor (22 page)

He only sank in deeper. His heart hammered in a mad rhythm of elation. She
had
missed him. Desire pulsed through him anew. He rose and came over her, taking her with him. On a small moan, Lettie eagerly submitted to the motion of his body.

He lowered himself between her parted thighs, groaned at the welcome of her rising hips and accepted the invitation. Sliding in effortlessly, Percy responded to her languid surrender with slow, calculated movements. He wanted to have this last forever, to feel nothing but Lettie’s accepting body and her eagerness for his every touch. To lose himself in her.

After more than a week’s separation, Letitia soaked up Percy’s tenderness like those towels had soaked up the water he splashed on the floor. She had told him the truth. She had missed him terribly. So when Slater informed her, as soon as she returned, that Percy was back, she shoved her reticule and the books Mary lent her into Josepha’s arms and ran upstairs, on the way telling Slater to forget about the dinner ritual, and barely noticing the knowing glance the two of them exchanged in the hallway. All that counted was that Percy was back.

Now she still tingled all over in the aftermath of their wild lovemaking that had begun in the bathroom, of all places, and turned into a silly game in his bed. She had long discovered that Percy seemed to possess some extra sense giving him an unerring ability to stoke a roaring fire of need in her. This time it had been even more. Somewhere during that mad race to fulfillment, they had become one. Her heart still beat with the amazement that their feelings had fused together as tightly as their bodies.

Letitia stretched languidly in an almost-boneless undulation to the slow rhythm Percy had set and put her arms above her head. Her hands found Percy’s, and he laced his fingers with hers. She always loved it when he held her like this, vulnerable in her openness, yet his body above hers like a shield excluding the world around them from her consciousness. The need for him, rekindled by nothing more than a little verbal sparring and his body raised above hers, overpowered her again as soon as he moved between her legs.

His mouth was on hers, possessive yet gentle. She reveled in his renewed hunger while her own insatiable craving for more of him demanded satisfaction, fueled the hunger and need matching his. The only thing that mattered was being together with him, and she shivered with some primal, felt rather than articulated, anticipation he was slowly building in her, driving her on. Bringing her inevitably to fulfillment.

And when it came, she forgot about anything that might exist except this one man with whom she was joined forever. She freed her hands from his and framed his face with them, while her world shattered to the whispered words of love.

She was home.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Letitia had planned to wait a little longer with her announcement, but the increasingly unpleasant bouts of nausea made her change her mind. This morning, she had barely reached her own bathroom in time to get rid of whatever her stomach decided should be returned.

Besides, Josepha had insisted for a while there was no reason to wait for more proof. Her last courses had lasted just one day, and she was now more than a week late. What better welcome-home present could she give Percy? Especially after last night. Her whole body still purred from his lovemaking.

In spite of the lingering queasiness, Letitia cheerfully hummed to herself as she skipped down the stairs and slipped into the library. She hoped Percy would be there, remembering something he had whispered in her ear when he’d gotten up long before she had.

She was not disappointed. Percy sat at the desk, the quill bobbing in his hand as he wrote in a large ledger. Without raising his head, he beckoned her with his left hand.

When she reached his chair, he encircled her waist and pulled her closer until she was almost leaning into him. His face against her bosom, his fingers moved idly over her hip.

She chuckled and ruffled his hair, then contented herself with standing in the circle of his arm while he hastily finished writing and stuck the quill in the ink stand.

“I have something to tell you.” He pushed back the chair, pulled her between his thighs and nuzzled the swell of her breasts above the bodice. “Actually, two things.”

“And I have something to tell you too,” she murmured, enjoying his attentions. “But let me hear yours first.”

Unfortunately, that meant he would stop his caresses.

“I have been very neglectful about introducing you to my family,” he said. “My aunt and uncle, who for all practical purposes were as parents to me after my father’s death, would certainly want to meet my wife. I have, of course, written them since our marriage took place, but I should like to take you to Devonshire, perhaps for a fortnight, so that you can become acquainted. We can also visit the cousin who will eventually inherit Wycombe Oaks and other Hanbury estates.”

Letitia smiled at him almost beatifically. He would be momentarily disabused of that last notion.

“Hmmm, is that really certain?” she asked.

Percy leaned back in his chair then he reached up, touched her face with his knuckles and traced her cheek. Suddenly, his mood turned pensive, almost sad.

Letitia took his face in her hands and kissed him briefly.

His hands covered her hips and moved up and down in a gentle massaging motion.

“I would like very much to meet your family,” she said, still holding his face. And because he seemed so sad, she changed her mind. She was going to keep the best for last, but he could use some cheering up. “Now it’s my turn. Do you remember you mentioned once that the nursery rooms upstairs could be turned into my studio if I wished?”

Percy kissed the inside of her palm. “Why, have you run out of space in the orangery already? Did you cover all its walls with works of art while I was gone?”

“No, nothing of the sort.” She chuckled and ran her fingers along his lips, anticipating with excitement the pleasure her announcement was going to give him. “I hope you will not mind making it more habitable for someone who will move in next spring. Am I giving you enough time?”

His hands stiffened on her hips, and then he dropped them altogether. “What are you saying, Lettie?” he asked too gravely for the occasion.

“That in a matter of a few months it will be needed for a new tenant. We are going to have a child, my love.”

Percy moved the chair back so violently it fell to the floor when he shot up from it. “No!” he said vehemently, shaking his head. “No! You are mistaken. I cannot believe that!”

He began pacing around the room, apparently too agitated to stand in one spot.

Letitia gaped at him, bewildered. “Why can you not?” she asked after a moment while he continued his pacing. “I do not think I am mistaken. Josepha has been suspecting it for some time. By now I have every reason to believe her. If you’d like, we can consult a doctor or a midwife.”

Percy kept pacing, his face contorted. His eyes had suddenly a shiny gleam to them. But that could have been only a reflection from the bright light coming in through the window.

Because when he finally stopped in front of her, they were like daggers and his face showed none of its recent warmth.

“Get out of here!” he hissed.

Letitia stepped back instinctively. She was supposed to get out of where? The library? Why? Why wasn’t he happy?

“Get out! Now!” he gritted out again.

She had not misheard him the first time then. More puzzled than frightened, she took a few steps away from him until she stood on the other side of his desk.

“What is wrong?”

“What is wrong?” Percy repeated and laughed. “You accused me, ma’am, of having a mistress. I see clearly now that it has been done with the design to cover your own indiscretions. You intrude in here to announce you are with child, and you are asking
me
what is wrong? Perhaps you can indulge my curiosity and inform me of the identity of his father.”

His words hit like a slap to her face. Letitia almost choked from the impact and gripped the edge of his desk for support. She searched his countenance frantically for some explanation, some signal that it was just a bad dream. But Percy’s face was like a chunk of ice. There was no mistaking his reaction.

It was not a bad dream. It was a nightmare happening to her at that very moment.

“Are you mad?” she asked finally. “Are you insane? How can you… How dare you…. No, how
can
you utter something like this after all we shared together? How can you
think
such a thing?”

“How can
I
?” Each word oozed frost. “You did not think me serious when I told you I abhor infidelity in marriage, did you? Perhaps you will now. I shall tell you how I not only
can
think such a thing, but am absolutely
convinced
that I am right. Did you not ever wonder why there are no children from my first marriage?”

That took her completely by surprise. She opened her mouth to answer, but the question was apparently rhetorical as far as she was concerned.

“Let me tell you,” he supplied. “There are no children in this house, because
I
am unable to father any.”

Letitia expelled the breath she had not even realized she was holding. Relief swept over her, even though she was still furious with him for the way he reacted. Was this all?

“That is certainly not true.” She tried not to sound wounded. “Of course you
can
have children. It had to be Sarah who—”

“No!” he cut her off. “In six years of marriage, Sarah did not conceive
once
. Yet the day she died she was with child. But not mine. It was her lover’s of a few weeks, who lived under my roof at the time. Six years against five weeks! Do you want any more proof? Do you
need
any more proof?”

“What?” She couldn’t keep astonishment from her question. The worshipped goddess had been an unfaithful wife? “How did you find out?”

Percy’s face distorted into another grimace.

“It is not important how. You don’t need to know the details.”

Ah no, he was quite wrong about that. She was entitled to know every little detail that had prompted his reaction.

“Let me be the judge of that,” she said. “You accuse me of adultery, yet I have not heard a single argument that would give credence to your accusation.”

Percy glared at her, then dropped his gaze to the floor between them. A muscle ticked in his jaw, and he compressed his lips into a tight line. When he raised his head, if not for that ticcing muscle, his face would have been a perfect mask of calmness.

“Very well,” he said at last. “Two years ago, Ethel hosted a summer house party. When she discovered that somehow the numbers had been mismatched and she would have to put two strangers in one room, I offered one of the guests—who happened to be my old Cambridge acquaintance—a room at Bromsholme.”

Letitia raised her brows in question when he said nothing more. He had not explained anything so far.

Percy was obviously aware of it. The muscle in his jaw developed a regular tempo of its own. He swallowed hard.

“The day was exceptionally hot. I was with Petre all morning, but we returned by noon. I went upstairs to wash off the sweat and find a clean shirt. Then I heard Sarah’s cries. I thought she was unwell again. Instead, when I opened the door to her bedchamber, I found her and my friend
in flagrante delicto
.”

Oh goodness. Oh dear Lord. How horrid. How absolutely terrible. The nausea attacked her again, but this time it had nothing to do with the morning sickness. Letitia almost gagged on contempt for Sarah. She imagined her own feelings on such an occasion. If she came upon Percy with another woman, she would probably tear them both to pieces with bare hands.

But she would not let him extend Sarah’s sins to her own person.

“I daresay you were no exception,” she said when he failed to resume his story. “Even I am not that ignorant to pretend that I do not know—though not from personal experience, as you just implied—that half of the
ton
thrives on such relationships. How it pertains to our current situation, I cannot imagine.”

“You cannot imagine?” he repeated, sarcasm dripping from each word. “Surely, you are not so slow-witted to miss the connection.”

“I beg your pardon,” she shot back, matching his tone word for word. “I wish I could shrug off this latest insult, but the logic you applied to your accusation would make everyone I know slow-witted—including you. You have to do better than that.”

Percy’s nervousness increased. Was there something he did not want to tell her?

She had no choice but to confront him.

“Mrs. Waters told me Sarah died very suddenly and not in childbirth,” she said. “Did she? You are the only one who can tell me what really happened.”

Her words had an unexpected result. He flinched.

“I already told you, the details are not important.”

And just like that, she suddenly understood. The air in the library became too hot to breathe. Sweat trickled down her back as she recalled Ethel’s words spoken in the garden during the wedding breakfast.

“You murdered her,” she whispered, glad of even the rather-dubious security his desk provided.

“What?” His head snapped in her direction, and he fixed an angry gaze on her. “Are you accusing me of killing my wife? What nonsense is that?”

Yet he seemed
very
uncomfortable. His face paled and filled with anxiety and perhaps even fear.

More cold sweat trickled down her back, but she could not show him how panicked she began to feel.

“People are talking.” She shrugged, doing her best to maintain her composure.

“Who?” he demanded.

“It is not important who. You do not need to know the details,” she snapped back. “I never put much store in gossip, but I am no longer so sure about the falsehood of this one. Did you murder her imaginary lover too?”

“Imaginary?” he almost roared. “I told you, Anthony Burdett was my acquaintance at Cambridge. And had I not met him by chance in London six years earlier and visited his aunt with him, I would never have met Sarah. Ironic, is it not? No, I did not murder him. I called him out.”

Oh God, he had fought a duel! And since he was here, in front of her, that Burdett fellow had to have been the recipient of a well-aimed bullet.

Meanwhile, Percy’s face was a battlefield in action. Anger, indecision, vulnerability and despair fought one another until he seemed to banish them all and come to a decision. He walked to the window, where he stopped with his back to her.

“Perhaps I owe you an explanation,” he said after a moment in a much calmer, although not at all friendlier, tone. “Sarah took her own life.”

Letitia stared at his back, silenced into incredulity again.

“She stayed in her room for the rest of that fateful day,” he continued in a flat tone devoid of emotion. “While I went to meet Burdett the next morning, she sent a message to my valet that she did not wish to be disturbed. But as the day progressed, the silence emanating from her room took on an eerie feeling. Sarah would not open the door, even to her own maid. Eventually, I forced it.”

He took a deep breath.

“Her body hung from the curtain rod, facing the door. She left a note for me in which she acknowledged her pregnant state and named Burdett the father of her child. Thus, I am not only guilty of those two deaths, but now I also know that I am unable to beget a new life. Perhaps this was what drove her away from me.

“Her maid was with me when I forced the door, but I stopped her from calling for help. Sarah would not be buried in consecrated ground if word got out. I am certain the servants suspected something was amiss, but what they chose to believe and tell others, if anything at all, I do not know. I cannot prevent gossip.”

In the ensuing silence when neither of them spoke, the room filled with the wild hammering of her heart. The effect of his words on her emotions was dizzying.

Percy spoke again. “When you and I wed, my intention was to maintain a white marriage. I did not think you wanted anything different. Whatever happened earlier did not seem to matter. Perhaps I should have told you this long ago. You should not have nurtured a hope or expectation of something you cannot have as my wife. But it is too late now.”

“Too late?” She fought the tears stinging under her eyelids. “Too late for what?”

“For saving this marriage.”

His rejection delivered another unexpected blow. His twisted logic notwithstanding, her heart went out to him, but he wanted none of it. Couldn’t he see how wrong he was?

“Oh, I think this marriage has been doomed from the very beginning,” she rejoined with cold hauteur. “You turned out every inch the man I first expected you to be. I would
never
lie to you. I never did. As for your beloved and conniving Sarah, you proved nothing to me. Why can you not understand that she cheated you—again? Why you choose to trust a woman like her is beyond me. She left you a note? Well,
that
was easy. You never stood a chance of proving or disproving her veracity in this case once she killed herself, did you? I’m only surprised she did not inform you she was going to have twins!”