The Duke's Daughter (12 page)

He had not heard the key turn in the lock. It would be simple enough for him to open the door and end all this nonsense right here and now. She was Lucy Fox now and he had his rights as a husband.

‘No. I will not force her to be bound to me. If she wants me, then let her come to me of her own accord,’ he muttered to the door.

He stared at the closed door for what felt like an eternity, but Lucy remained on the other side. Finally he retired to the big bed. Lying on his back in the dark, staring up at the ceiling, he listened for any sign that Lucy had returned. No sound came from the adjoining room. His wife wasn’t coming back.

‘Not how I thought my wedding night would be,’ he sighed.

He fell asleep, a prayer on his lips that one day Lucy would find someone to love and share her life with. Whoever it was, it most certainly would not be him.

With her eyes closed, Lucy leaned back against the door which separated her from Avery. Her confrontation with him had left her drained and empty.

‘At least he has agreed to help end this farce,’ she comforted herself.

In the days leading up to the wedding she had meticulously planned the wedding night. After having had
the talk
with her mother, Lucy had made up her mind. She was not going to bed with Avery and she most certainly was not going to consummate their marriage.

When the time came to give herself to a man it would be with her whole heart and soul, not just her body. From what she had gathered from Millie’s occasional comments, she knew sex within marriage could be wonderful. It was something to share with someone you truly loved and who loved you in return. A mutual worshipping of one another’s bodies.

From observing her parents as she grew into adulthood, Lucy knew they had a close, romantic relationship. Her father was often caught by his children holding and kissing his wife. The duchess did not shy away from the duke’s attentions. Her mother’s deep love for her husband was evident in the way she had explained the physical relationship that a man and his wife should share within their marriage.

Lucy had sat silent throughout the talk, hoping her mother would soon finish. She could only feign interest in her future married life for so long. Lady Caroline wrapped her arms around her eldest daughter, whispering words of comfort and love. Everything would turn out for the best.

Lucy puffed out her cheeks.

Her parents’ love and happiness had given the Radley children a warm, loving home, so unlike those of many other children born into the upper echelons of London society. She was, as always, grateful for her life, but now, faced with a forced marriage, she found herself having to contend with complications for which her upbringing had not prepared her.

Neither her mother nor Millie understood the peril Lucy currently faced. If she allowed herself to become Avery’s wife in the fullest sense, she would forever lose her heart to him. He, in turn, had made his position clear. He would never love her. To wake next to him each morning and look into those emerald eyes, knowing that he did not love her, would be a lifetime of torture.

His long black hair, which had been tied back in a simple hold at the base of his neck for their wedding day, would fall forward, framing his face. His morning beard would tempt her fingers to reach out and touch his face. To kiss his hot, tender lips.

Those lips.

‘Stop it. Stop it,’ she said, tightly clenching her fists.

Her resolute heart had set itself to love him and would not be denied.

‘The sooner we part, the better.’

She pushed away from the door and surveyed the room. It was then that the folly of her plans for their wedding night began to dawn on her. She had not taken into account the likelihood that trying to drug Avery would fail. While he slept in the sumptuously appointed bed in the adjoining room, she now faced the prospect of spending the night on a short, uncomfortable couch.

She cursed herself for being too heavy-handed with the sleeping draught provided by Lady Alice at the wedding breakfast. Avery had not been fooled.

‘Neither of you deserve this fate. In the morning, talk to him; tell him to let you go,’ Lady Alice had counselled.

‘That would just about sum up the sort of day I have had,’ Lucy muttered in disgust as she looked at the small couch.

The only option apart from the couch available to her at this point was to go back into the master bedroom and take her place beside her new husband. The chance of meeting someone from either her family or the household staff while she attempted to sneak back to her old bedroom on one of the lower floors was too great a risk.

She went to the tall oak chest of drawers and rummaged around. Fortunately a woollen blanket had been stored in the large bottom drawer. She draped the blanket over her shoulders. Quickly realising the couch was not long enough for her to lie down, Lucy was forced to accept that she was going to spend the whole night sitting up.

‘Not how I had imagined my wedding night would be,’ she muttered.

She gave a glance to the door which separated her from Avery. She hoped he slept well. One of them at least should be well rested in order to tell whatever lies the morning required.

Avery woke early the following morning. Years of army life had ingrained in him the need to rise as soon as the first spark of sunlight graced the sky. Outside the window he heard the call of morning birds.

He sat up in the bed, momentarily wondering where he was. When his gaze took in the empty pillows beside him, he remembered.

Last night was supposed to have been the happiest night of his life. He was a married man, and with it should come all the benefits of a lust-filled wedding night. Lucy, his bride, should be lying sated and happy in the bed next to him. Instead, they both spent the night alone.

Their conversation of the previous night began to roll around in his head. What the devil had he promised to her?

‘A Scottish divorce, you dolt,’ he chastised himself.

He had promised Lucy her freedom. With the morning now came the question as to whether he could deliver on that promise. He gave a quick look toward the door that separated him from his wife.

She wanted to be rid of him and was prepared to sacrifice her honour to do so. He in turn was honour-bound to try to give her what she wanted. He owed her at least that much. If he failed in his endeavour to end their union, then he would deal with the outcome. He looked at the clock by the bedside. It was nearly seven o’clock. The servants of the household would not disturb them any time soon. The newlyweds would be given time to sleep.

He rolled over and climbed out of bed, quickly throwing a dressing gown on to cover his naked body. Looking at the door which separated him from his new wife, he scowled.

With luck Lucy had slept well.

‘Damn,’ he muttered as soon as he opened the door and saw her slumped in the chair.

She stirred and opened her eyes.

‘Avery,’ she whispered, the gruff of poor sleep in her voice.

He lifted her from the couch and, holding her in his arms, carried her back into the main bedroom.

As soon as her head touched the pillow, Lucy’s eyes closed. It was clear she had slept little, if at all, during the long night. He threw the blankets over her still fully dressed figure, before dropping to sit beside her on the bed.

He reached out and tentatively touched her hair. Lucy, deep in exhausted slumber, did not stir. Emboldened, he stroked his hand down her cheek, stopping when his thumb reached the corner of her mouth. For a moment he was mesmerised. Watching as sleep finally took her deeply into its arms tugged at his heart.

His breath caught as he saw Lucy roll over and grab one of his pillows. She hugged it tightly to herself. She murmured in her sleep and buried her face deep into the pillow.

He gripped the bedclothes, knowing it would take only a moment for him to lose the modesty of his dressing gown and climb into bed alongside her. From there, events would take their natural course.

Avery pulled his hand away and stood.

Promises had been made, and he would make certain to keep to his side of the undertaking. His honour dictated he behave in such a way.

His honour.

He shrugged his shoulders. What did he, Avery Fox, know of such things? He had forsaken it all at Waterloo.

Lucy rolled over onto her side, facing away from him, still clutching the pillow to her face and breast. He took this as a sign to take his leave.

He quickly found a fresh set of clothes and dressed.

Halfway down the grand staircase, it hit him. What on earth was he doing? This was supposed to be the morning after his wedding. He should still be in bed with his new bride, not wandering the halls of Strathmore House alone. If he encountered another member of the duke’s family, he would have something to explain. The sound of a door being opened and closed had him racing back to the bedroom.

Lucy woke in the big bed.

For a moment she lay enjoying the warm, comfortable blankets. There was nothing better than waking up in the morning feeling rested.

From outside she could hear the noises of the street. The jingle of horse bridles. The cries of the street sellers as they turned into Upper Grosvenor Street from Park Lane.

She looked toward the window. The sounds of London life were very loud for this early in the day. She glanced at the clock on the bedside table and gasped.

It was nearly one o’clock in the afternoon. She had slept the whole morning away.

She was most of the way to the dresser when she realised where she was. Last night she had spent many hours trying to fall asleep on the small gold and blue couch in the adjoining room, yet here she was waking up in the very same bed she knew Avery had slept in.

The warm smell of his cologne still clung to the pillow and the sheets. Her new husband was, however, nowhere to be seen. She put a hand to her face; Avery’s scent now lingered on her skin. It was as if he had actually been in the bed with her, had touched her.

Wherever Avery was at this moment, she very much doubted he was thinking of her. She looked down at her rumpled clothes and frowned. She was still fully dressed. She quickly changed into a suitable nightgown and tossed the blankets about in the bed before ringing the bell to summon her maid.

After a long, silent period of dressing and making up her hair, she headed downstairs. She hoped her maid had taken her reticence to talk this morning as a sign of wedding-night-induced fatigue.

No one need know the truth of last night. At least, not yet. At some point she knew the truth would come out. But by then she and Avery would have secured a divorce and he would be long gone.

‘Eight, nine, ten and turn,’ she said quietly to herself as she slowly made her way down to the main ground floor.

The staircase at Strathmore House traversed four levels. The first was an even ten steps, followed by a landing. The second was thirteen steps, followed by a landing and a turn. Lucy had climbed and descended these stairs all her life. Why today of all days did she finally realise that the sequence of stairs was not in symmetry? She stopped at the third landing and looked back up the stairs.

‘Nothing is as it would seem,’ she said.

She had just recommenced her descent to the ground floor when she spied Avery coming out of a side door into the front entrance. He looked up and caught her eye.

He gave her a nod of the head, then stood waiting as she completed her journey to the ground floor.

‘Did you put me in the bed?’ she asked.

‘A pleasure to see you, wife,’ he replied.

A reminder of their conversation was on her lips when she saw her brother David was following close behind her husband, and understood Avery’s answer.

‘Good afternoon, Lucy, hope you slept well,’ David said.

Lucy ignored the comment. She was not going to give David anything he could report back to Clarice. There was little to be served in dragging other members of her family into this miserable mess. Lady Alice’s attempt to be helpful had been a failure. During the long night where she had sat and contemplated her future, she had come to the firm decision that from now on she would keep her own counsel. When the time came to leave England, it would be with a clear conscience, knowing that she was not leaving anyone behind who would be held to account.

‘David informs me that your father still intends to return to Scotland later this week. Now that our wedding has taken place and Parliament has risen, he sees no need to remain in London. He expects us to travel up with the rest of the family.’

David put a brotherly hand on Avery’s shoulder. ‘I was just telling my new brother-in-law how much Father said he was looking forward to showing him Strathmore Castle and the hills around. Being an army man, I expect Avery will be pleased to get out and do some hunting. Pity Clarice and I won’t be able to join you until Christmas.’

Scotland.

Lucy and Avery shared an uncomfortable look. How on earth were they to arrange a divorce if they were holed up with the rest of the Radley family at Strathmore Castle?

‘And as I was telling your brother, you and I intend to travel to Scotland as soon as possible. Ahead of your family,’ Avery said.

Lucy heard the anger on the edge of his words. If there was one thing she had already learned about Avery, it was that he did not like having his life organised and arranged for him. Her father was going to have a fight on his hands.

‘I’m so sorry, Avery, it had completely slipped my mind. This week has been rather busy,’ she replied. No matter what she said at that moment, she knew it would be wrong.

David laughed, but his mirth quickly died when both Lucy and Avery fixed him with a dark look.

‘Why are you here?’ she challenged David.

Her brother was fortunately blessed with intelligence enough to know that something was wrong and not to push the matter further.

‘I was here having my weekly meeting with Papa. I just happened to encounter Avery as I was leaving,’ he replied.

Lucy nodded. Mired deep in thought regarding her personal predicament, she had forgotten that the usual business of running the duchy would continue. Life for others in the Radley family was no different this morning than any other day. It was only her life which had irrevocably changed.

David made his hasty farewells, leaving Lucy and Avery alone.

‘I hope you got some sleep,’ Avery said.

‘Yes, thank you; it was kind of you to check on me and then move me to the bed,’ Lucy replied.

He stepped closer and took hold of her hand. If anyone else from Strathmore House suddenly came upon them, they would see the newlywed couple deep in conversation and give them their privacy.

‘Your family cannot possibly expect that we would be travelling with them to Scotland,’ he murmured.

‘We would have our own carriage, but I can see your point. We should be insisting that as newlyweds we be allowed to make the journey north alone,’ she replied.