Hint of Desire (41 page)
Authors: Lavinia Kent
Which happened first? Arthur felt his heart miss a beat.
Still trying to make sense of the shocking scene, Arthur grasped Lily, quivering, in his arms
. Then he crushed her in a desperate embrace.
St. Aubin lay crumpled on the floor, a crimson rose blossoming on his forehead, blood pooling on the floor
. Lily gasped – she had followed Arthur's gaze. Then her eyes darted about the room.
Wulf stood in the doorway, a wisp of smoke still curling at the end of his pistol.
“Bloody hell.” They were words Arthur had never heard escape her lips. “Who in hell is he?”
Arthur’s heart began to beat again as Lily looked up at him with darkened eyes
. She held his gaze for a second; then, not awaiting his answer, pushed clumsily to her feet and rushed to the bench. She lifted Simon up and examined him, assuring herself that he was unharmed. The baby squawked once more before settling down to a happy gurgle as he gazed into his mother’s eyes. Her body relaxed visibly as she assured herself of his safety.
Then she turned back to Arthur, but kept an eye on Wulf
. “Is it over, then?”
“Yes
. It’s over. Not as I had planned, but over.”
Lily
shifted Simon in her arms and moved to Wulf. “I still do not understand, but I think I owe you my thanks, Mr. Huntington.”
Wulf’s glance shot between
Lily and Arthur. “I must make apology for the distress I caused you before. I did not comprehend the situation. I must leave it to your husband to explain the rest.”
Lily glanced at St. Aubin’s corpse
. “I believe your apology has been made. I do not want to think of what would have happened if you had not been present.”
Arthur embraced her again, laying a soft kiss upon her brow and then upon Simon’s.
“I would suggest that you return upstairs and settle yourself and our boy. Leave this mess below to me and to Mr. Huntington. I will join you and explain as soon as this is handled. I’ll have – where is everybody?”
Lily told Arthur what St. Aubin had planned, hugging Simon tighter as she spoke.
“Lily, take Simon upstairs. He is safe, and you are safe. Trust me to take care of the rest.”
She probed his eyes sharply
. “I trust . . . I’ll see you above.”
Then, lifting her head high, she sailed back up the steep stairway, clasping Simon tightly
. Arthur waited until Lily disappeared.
“
That was a closer shave than I care to consider.” Arthur lifted his brow in self-mockery. “I sought the villain everywhere, but never dreamed he would darken my own door.”
“
I wouldn’t have thought he’d have had the courage,” Wulf answered. “What should we do with this?” He waved the pistol at St. Aubin.
“I am afraid we shall have
to call for the magistrate. At least, St. Aubin did have his gun drawn.” Arthur’s voice grew unsteady. “You have proved yourself a true friend this night. I can’t bear to imagine the outcome if you had not come. I don’t know how to thank you. If you ever need a favor –”
“Consider it
a penance for my previous mistake. I need no thanks.” He smiled again, waving his pistol up the stairs as lightly as if it had been a baton. “And you will need to take care of that – mine was not the only gun to discharge.”
Arthur followed the movement and gazed upon the portrait of his father
. The ball of the St. Aubin’s single shot – its intended course deflected by its owner’s fall – had found its home square between the old duke’s emotionless eyes. A wry smile twisted Arthur’s lips.
“Yes,
I’ll commission a portrait of my bride in its place. This foyer could use a little cheering. That can wait, however. There is a certain duchess upstairs who I am sure is waiting for an explanation, and I had better be sure the household only sleeps.”
A matching
smile cheered Wulf’s face. “Aye, that would be wise.”
“Ah
, one more thing.” Arthur reached down and felt the lining of St. Aubin’s waistcoat, he pulled out a small gold ring. “My wife’s first wedding ring. I can’t imagine why he has it, unless he had it stolen from Lily when she and Worthington were attacked. Be sure the magistrate knows how it was recovered.” He tossed the ring to Wulf.
Wulf grinned
. “I will. You can be sure of that.”
Arthur slapped Wulf’s shoulder in farewell
. “I imagine the duchess and I will return to the peace of the country and put off the vigor of London until well into the season.”
Wulf nodded
. “I’ll be leaving, myself, in the next day, after I finish with the magistrate. I find that London holds no pleasure for me.”
Lily sat in the center of Arthur’s bed, her knees pulled up to her chest. It was over. For the first time in years she felt free and full of hope.
“
You are happy, then?” The low voice vibrated across the room.
Arthur lounged
in the doorway. He tossed his jacket and waistcoat aside and even his neck cloth hung loosely. He looked more a dissolute rake than a proud duke.
She rose to
her knees. “Happy is too simple a description of what I am feeling.”
He smiled down at her
, light shining in his eyes. His eyebrow rose, but its expression was not mocking, only questioning.
“I feel free, and safe, and wondering
. I have lived so long with worry, I am unsure how to greet safety.”
Arthur
sat down on the edge of the bed. There was a tentativeness about him she had never seen. He traced the pattern of the embroidery with his finger.
“You’re safe
, both you and Simon.”
“
I know, but it will take time to believe.”
“Did you hear more of the conversation from below?”
“No, I needed to settle Simon, and then I was lost in my own thoughts. I trusted you to do what would be right.”
“You did, didn’t you
? Trust me, I mean?”
“Yes
. I find I trust you implicitly. I might question, at times. For instance, when a tall, lush widow thinks it her place to handle you,” Lily said, not concealing her jealousy, “Or when you neglect to explain how my attacker can possibly be your bosom friend. But I find that, despite all, I trust you, and against all appearances, my trust is rewarded.
“As for the widow, she’
s merely an old friend. Mr. Beowulf Huntington is another matter. He is an even older friend. I am sure I’ve mentioned him before. Will it content you if I say that St. Aubin duped him? He did not know the truth of our story when he waylaid you. He thought he was protecting Simon from a scheming woman, and returning him to his proper place and due. Wulf had his reasons for believing as he did. Will you trust me farther if I say he is a good man, and deeply regrets the harm he caused you?”
Lily nodded in wondering silence.
“Did you mean that other thing you said this afternoon?” He looked at her reflection in the mirror. “Do you still mean it?”
S
he paused, afraid to believe the question she had heard. Her heart beat fast.
She
rose from the bedstead and stood behind him, pressing her face against his back as she whispered, “Yes, Arthur. Yes, I love you. I never expected to, or wanted to, but I do. I would willingly have died for you.”
“Is that what love is
? Is it the desire to put someone else first, not simply because it is a duty, but because there is no choice?”
Lily wrapped her arms tigh
tly about him. “Perhaps, or perhaps more. It’s not your safety alone I care about, but your happiness. I do not regret what I told you, but what I left unsaid. I suppose I feared my gift would not be welcome.”
Arthur embrace
d Lily, bringing her cheek to rest above his heart. “Not unwelcome, but unexpected. I’d never heard those words uttered before – nor realized how much I needed to hear them. They overwhelmed me, and I fled before them. Perhaps I was afraid that if I accepted your love I would grow to crave it, become addicted to it, lose my ability to be strong alone.”
“And
now you realize that is not true.”
He laughed
. “No, I realize how true it is. I do need you, Lily. Oh, aye, I could live without you, but it would not be a world I could wish to live in. I am unready to retreat into that uninteresting darkness I inhabited before stumbling across your path.”
Arthur
drew Lily’s face up to his. The trace of a smile danced on her lips. She had thought she could bear to live as a friend and paramour to him, but as he spoke, she realized how empty that would have been.
She steeled herself, eyeing Arthur warily
. “And you, duke? How do you feel? Am I a duty, a possession for you to protect?”
“I knew you would have the courage to ask
. I will certainly protect you, always, both you and Simon – but you are not a duty. Yes, Lily, I love you. I never thought I would place myself so willingly in another person’s hands, but how could I deprive you of the joy I feel when you say the same words to me? Lily, you do not complete me; you enlarge me. You have introduced me to a world I did not imagine, filled not only with duty and honor, but with joy and caring.”
Lily
wondered if Arthur could see the gleaming within her as he spoke. She had never dreamed such happiness was possible. Nothing could improve the moment. Nothing, except . . .
S
he ran her hands down her husband’s firm body with a light touch.
“Then come, Arthur, husband, show me just how much you love me
. I find I grow weary of talk.”
With a low laugh, he swung her into her arms and stepped towards the bed
. It was time to experience how sweet this new life could be.
*****
Keep reading for and excerpt from
Price of Desire
the second book of
The Desire Series.
The Desire Series
Taste of Desire
(Available February 2013)
The Real Duchesses of London
Prologue
Cornwall, 1812
“Bloody hell,” Rose muttered as she caught her thumb on another thorn. The fresh scent of the greenery tickling her nose was no consolation for the pain in her hand. She’d tossed her muddy gloves aside, and now the blasted bush was determined to sabotage her every effort to remove it to a more genteel setting. Her hands stung with evidence of the battle. She sucked on her finger, ignoring the bitter taste of mud, and determined not to yield to emotion. The tears that ached heavy behind her eyes had little to do with wounds of the flesh. John would not want her crying over him.
John.
She would not think of him now.
Her skin prickled in the heat and she fanned the fabric, trying to get a bit of air as perspiration trickled down the back of her neck onto her sodden collar. When she’d first decided to spend the day digging up a border of hedge roses, the cold gray of the April morning had not admitted a suspicion of hot sunshine. She’d sought only distraction from the desperation that clung to her as she watched the illness that ravaged her beloved husband. Each day he seemed further from her, more separated by walls the eye could not see. With a thirty-five year difference in their ages, she knew she should have been more prepared, but so often she wished she could lie down beside John and travel with him on his coming journey.
“Bugger it all.”
Glancing down the path to be sure of her solitude, she loosed a colorful and varied stream of curses. Being the wife of a seafaring man had greatly increased her vocabulary. With each word that passed her lips, the suppressed frustrations of the last difficult months fermented to the surface like bubbles in a bog.
“I don’t know the meaning of half those terms. Would you care to explain? I assume you’re not actually talking about my mother.”
The deep, well-modulated voice echoed from behind her, speeding her heart.
She spun around, her half-boots catching on the stubborn root. With a further stream of more ladylike vulgarities, she tumbled onto her behind. The mud sloshed around her. She shaded her eyes and peered up.
