The Letter (31 page)

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Authors: Sandra Owens

Tags: #General Fiction

BOOK: The Letter
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She tapped her heart and then her woman’s place. “There has only been you here and here.”

His chin dropped to his chest for a moment, and when he lifted it, there was regret on his face. “I wish I could say the same, but I can’t. I thought you were lost to me forever and I tried very hard to rid my heart of you.”

He took her hand in his. “Listen. Not once have I come close to loving another. Not once have I needed anyone the way I need you. I promise you this. There will never be another woman in my life or in my bed but you.”

Was he saying he loved her? Before he made any more promises she had to show him what she looked like. She needed to do it now before she lost her nerve. All she had to do was to pull the right side of her nightdress aside and show him her mangled breast. He startled her, however, when he picked her up, turned and sat so that she straddled his lap.

He cradled her face with his palms and kissed her hard. After his kiss, he stared into her eyes. “I am taking over seeing to your pleasure from here.”

“I need to show you what you are getting.” She put her hand on the open edge of her nightdress and started to pull it open. He stopped her.

“All you need to show me is how much you like this.” He turned and blew out the candle on the table next to them and then pushed his dressing gown aside. Lifting her nightdress to her waist, he took his erection in hand and gently guided it into her.

Did he know she was badly scarred? Was that why he had blown out the candle and left her clothed? If they married, would he prefer she always keep her nightdress on while they made love in the dark? Wouldn’t he tire of it?

“Diana?”

“Yes?”

He put his mouth to her ear. “Stop thinking.”

“All right.”

****

Michael gripped her bottom and pressed his face against the soft skin of her neck, his breath harsh and hot as he spilled his seed into the deepest part of her.

“Myana.” It was the only word he could manage.

Sweet Jesus. Loving her was good, so damned good, but he wanted to surround them in candlelight, strip her virginal nightdress away and look at every inch of her. He would lick her from her toes to her mouth, tasting her from here to there. There had to be a way to prove to her she was desirable, that her body was beautiful.

He needed a plan.

She sighed and nestled into his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on her head. It had been a long night, the chair was soft and the fire warm. He listened to her breathing and thought she had fallen asleep. Shortly, he would carry her to her bed, but he wanted to hold her in his arms for a few minutes longer. He needed to convince her to marry him soon so he could keep her in his bed, so he could love her and then hold her close as they slept.

“Why didn’t Mr. Marlowe try to collect on his wager?”

He kissed the top of her head. “I thought you were asleep.”

“You promised we would talk. Please tell me.”

Someday, he would find a way to punish Dangler. “He did collect. He spoke true when he said I covered the debt.”

“But the money wasn’t the original wager, was it? So why did he play to win me and then not follow through? I am grateful he didn’t, but I don’t understand.”

“Are you sure you want to talk about this, love? It is over and done with. Wouldn’t it be better to forget?”

She pushed away from his chest. “If you don’t tell me, I will only think it worse than it probably is.”

“All right then.” He pulled her to him for a kiss and then gently tapped her bottom. “Up with you.”

After she returned to her chair, he refilled their wine glasses and told her all Marlowe had said.

“Then I am indebted to him for not only hauling Lady Hartwell away, but for saving me from either Lord Dangler or Sir Geoffrey. The mere thought of those two gives me shudders. I’m sorry, Michael.”

“What the hell for?”

“For causing such trouble and costing you so much money.”

“I am going to be your husband. Protecting you is my responsibility, so hush.”

She ran her finger around the rim of her glass. “About that.”

Oh no, they were not going to have this conversation when his mind was not at its best. It was late and he was past tired. He glanced at the clock. “It is almost dawn.” He stood and scooped her up.

“What are you doing?”

“Carrying you to bed.”

She wiggled in his arms, trying to get down. “But I want to talk about your telling everyone we are to marry.”

He pulled her tight to his chest. “Tomorrow.”

“Now.”

Michael dropped her on the bed, and then removed his dressing gown and lifted the cover.

“You cannot sleep in my bed.” She scooted over and yanked the counterpane from his hand.

“If you insist on talking now, we will do it in your bed. I do not promise, however, not to fall asleep.”

“No, Fanny will come in soon and find you here.”

“Like the view?” Her gaze was on his cock, which was becoming aroused under her scrutiny. He grinned when she jerked her eyes up.

She threw a pillow at him. “Fine. We will talk tomorrow. Now go away.”

He picked up his dressing gown, but knowing she would look at his arse as he left, did not put it on.

“Stupid brick wall,” she muttered.

“I heard that.” He shut the connecting door before she could answer.

****

Sunday afternoon, Michael walked into White’s and took a seat next to Aubrey. He had slept late, had breakfast sent to his chamber, and had managed to avoid seeing Diana. They would discuss their marriage at a timing of his choosing, preferably when he could kiss her senseless, erasing any objections from her mind.

“I did not see your man outside.”

Aubrey turned a look on him that said he was stupid. “Unless Reeves wants you to see him, you will not. Derebourne will be here in a few minutes. We will have luncheon and discuss all the ways you can torture that fool, Dangler. Then you will get in your carriage and leave.”

“If there is someone following me and your man captures him, I want to talk to the blackguard.”

Aubrey looked up at the ceiling as if seeking divine guidance, and then lowered a hard stare at Michael. “You will get in your carriage and go home. Reeves may have to resort to a bit of, shall we say, persuasion. Neither you nor I want Serena to be able to say we were anywhere near her man. I will stop by later and tell you what he learned.”

“Oh ho, what are the two of you planning now?”

Michael lifted a finger to his forehead and saluted Derebourne. “The demise of civilization as you know it. Aubrey plans to take over the world, and you and I are to be his minions.”

Derebourne took a seat next to Michael. “All right then. When do we begin?”

The hour passed swiftly, and when Michael walked out to his carriage, he looked for Aubrey’s man but saw nothing. He returned home and spent the time waiting for His Grace by playing a few games of marbles with Jamie.

“I won! I won!” Jamie jumped up and ran to his mother. “Mama, I won. I beat Michael.”

She had a special smile for their son, and it hurt each time he saw it because it excluded him. How many times during the eleven years he had missed, when they only had each other, had they found the simplest of reasons to smile or laugh, to share in a moment of happiness? Too few, he feared.

Michael lifted off the floor and moved to sit beside Diana, setting aside the book she had been reading. Rain beat on the windows, and there were red and gold autumn leaves plastered to the panes, reminding him of stained glass.

A roaring fire kept the room warm and cozy. He could think of no other place he would rather be on a cold Sunday afternoon than with his family.

Listening to Jamie, Michael thought his son was of above average intelligence. Did all fathers think so of their young? Not having experience with children, he could not say, but he didn’t believe other boys ten years of age were as bright of mind. A father should know these things. He would ask Mr. Denton for an assessment of Jamie’s intelligence.

“My lord, His Grace, the Duke of Aubrey is here to see you.”

“I wonder what he wants,” Diana said.

“I suppose I will go and find out.” What could he tell her after Aubrey left? The last thing he wanted was for her to know Serena, if it was Serena, had sent someone to follow him.

When he entered his study, it was to see Aubrey had helped himself to the brandy, and was now standing at the window.

“Even the ducks have taken cover today.”

Not a man one could sneak up on. “Should I apologize that you are not at home cozied up to your lovely duchess?”

Aubrey turned. “If you wish, but it will not keep me from getting my due when I meet you in the ring.”

God help him. “You are not going to kill me, are you?”

A rare smile appeared on the duke’s face. “No, but you may wish I had.”

“Well then, something to look forward to. Did your man catch whoever was following me?”

Aubrey made himself at home by pushing aside some reports and perching on the edge of Michael’s desk. He could not imagine doing the same in His Grace’s study. “Of course. It was as I said, one of Serena’s footmen. According to him, until this morning, his only instructions were to report your activities. Apparently, she did not take kindly to being hauled off by your American friend and the game has changed. His new instructions are to follow your lady.”

“Sweet Jesus. Why?”

“He doesn’t know, but when he does, he will come and tell me.”

“Why would he?”

There was that grin that would terrify any sane man. “Because he now works for me.”

“You need not involve yourself any deeper in this, Your Grace.”

“Allow me my fun, Daventry.” Aubrey finished his drink and stood. “The interesting thing is, Marlowe stayed the night with Serena so one would think her attention to you and yours diverted.” He shrugged. “Perhaps American men are not so skilled in bedsport as we English.”

Michael laughed. “How could they be? We have hundreds of years of practice ingrained in us. The Americans are mere babes.”

Michael saw Aubrey out and then returned to the family parlor. He debated what to tell Diana. Now that Serena had focused on her, he wanted Diana aware of the possible danger.

What the bloody hell was Serena up to?

Chapter Twenty-Five

“I am going to take Jamie to visit my parents this afternoon.” Diana resisted the urge to shift her gaze away. It wasn’t a lie, but only the partial truth.

Michael looked up from his perusal of the paper. “Take Gordon and Rory with you.”

Her new, strapping Scottish bodyguards were even now standing outside the door of the breakfast room ready to defend her at the drop of a hatpin. They had given her fierce scowls when she said it wasn’t necessary for them to sleep on the floor outside her bedroom.

“Do you really think I need to? It is only a few blocks to my father’s house.”

He set down the paper and inclined his head at the footman. The man left, closing the door behind him. Michael stood and walked behind her chair, turning it.

She grabbed onto the arms. Heavens, he was strong. He braced his hands on the back alongside her head and leaned his face close to hers. Every nerve in her body tingled with excitement.

“The lads will go with you anytime you walk out the door of this house, even if you are only going to the bottom of the steps and back.” He kissed her. “I will not take chances with your safety.” He kissed her again. “Why do you think that is?” Another kiss. His intense gaze bored into her.

Lord above, he scattered her brains. “Why?”


Je t’aime, Myana. Je t’aime
.”

The breath swooshed from her. He loved her?

Again, he kissed her. “If anything happened to take you away from me again, I will turn berserker and then end up in either Bedlam or Newgate. Is that what you want for me?”

She shook her head. He loved her!

“Then you will obey me in this?”

Obey? A word she didn’t like, but he loved her and wanted her safe. She couldn’t think past his declaration, and he’d said it in French the way he used to. What she planned to do this afternoon suddenly didn’t sit well.

“Diana?”

“Yes?”

“You will obey me?”

“Sometimes.”

He grabbed her around the waist and lifted her, holding her above him. “Sometimes? What the bloody hell does that mean?”

My, he really was strong. “I will.”

“Excellent.” He set her on her feet and turned for the door.

“When I think you are right.”

Very slowly, he pivoted, spearing her in place with his glare. “I am always right.”

She burst into laughter. He frowned. Heavens, she had never been happier. The arrogant beast loved her. “Except when you aren’t.”

“I. Am. Always. Right.”

He stalked her like a barn cat after a wayward mouse. She backed up and pushed her chair between them. His lips twitched, but he kept advancing on her. She turned and ran around the table and right into his arms.

“Not fair. You were supposed to chase me, not lay in wait.”

He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her against his chest. “It matters not how I caught you, only that I did. You are up to something, Diana, I can see how you try to hide it. You had best tell me now.” He kissed her long and hard.

How did he always know her so well? She wrapped her arms around his neck and stared into his eyes, looking for the truth. Was his love true?

Michael put his mouth next to her ear and bit her earlobe. “Tell me. What are you about?”

She felt his bite in her most private of places. How was that possible? Her ear was nowhere near her middle. She moaned and pushed against him, feeling the hardness of his erection on her belly. He slid his fingers up her arms, taking her hands from his neck and pressing her palms over his buttocks. She gripped his taut bottom and pulled him tighter.

“Sweet Jesus, Myana.”

He pushed the china aside, lifted her onto the table and spread her legs. One hand cupped her cheek while the other unbuttoned the placket of his trousers.

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