The Sanctuary (A Spencer Novel) (32 page)

“I shall have the Ming and a small case clock brought in immediately.” He seemed to ponder his next words. “Have you looked through the storage room at the end of the west wing?”

“I didn’t realize there was one.”

“When his lordship had the interior remodeled, he used a large room near the late Countess’ apartments to store some pieces he wanted to keep.”

“Would you show me?”

By early afternoon, a beautiful Queen Anne desk sat in front of the French doors leading to an outside terrace. Hidden beneath a dustcover, she found a collection of paintings. She chose three.

Two were landscapes; one depicted the ornamental lake with the Grecian folly, and the other, the gardens surrounding the hall in full glory.

The third was of a woman with flowing, dark hair. Ensconced on a bench in what had to be a rose garden, she looked on while a young boy played at her feet. The smile on the woman’s face, as she beheld her son, took Clairece’s breath away. Without a doubt, she was looking at a painting of Anthony and his mother. The picture now hung on the wall directly opposite the door.

She surveyed the room. Any trace of what had once been a place of sadness and pain, had been replaced with all things bright and cheery. Tomorrow, she would work on the books.

The small clock on the mantel chimed the hour. She had a lot to do before Anthony returned home.

Chapter 55

Anthony gingerly lowered his aching body into the steaming bathwater. Another frustrating day of searching had ended without a sign of the scar-faced man. The blighter he worked for had to know they were scouring the area, and would not stop until every hole the weasel might hide in had been explored. If they didn’t ferret him out soon, Anthony doubted they would find the man alive.

After a grueling day searching through the warehouses lining the docks near the village, they’d discovered the carcasses of a few dogs, cats, and a vagrant, or what was left of him after the rats had finished. Anthony shivered in remembered revulsion.

He sank lower into the water. Tomorrow. It had to be tomorrow. They were running out of places to search and now, at the end of each day, the men’s faces were etched with defeat.

Anthony climbed from the tepid water and wrapped a towel around his hips. He wanted nothing more than to sleep, but slumber had evaded him of late. Where once he’d lain with Clairece’s warm, soft, body cradled in his arms, the bed was now a silent reminder of what they had shared and somehow lost.

A folded piece of stationary lay propped against the pillows. A small white feather floated from between the doubled sheet. He leaned toward the bedside lamp to read the short message.

I know what’s important
, it said.

Anthony jerked on his trousers and slid his arms into a clean shirt, stuffing the shirttail in as he searched for his boots. If Clairece’s message meant she’d decided to leave with her parents, it was better than not knowing and far better than waiting.

After checking for his wife in her apartments, he went in search of Hodges. With a house full of sleeping guests, he could hardly bellow for his butler. Anthony found Hodges in the great hall securing the lock on the door.

“Where is my wife?” Anthony managed to lower his voice to a quieter version of a roar.

“My lord?”

“I said,” he lowered his voice yet again, “where is Clairece? You know every damn thing that goes on in this house and I’m in no mood for games.”

Hodges had the audacity to remain quiet.

“Good Lord, man, I’m not going to hurt her.” Anthony couldn’t believe he was explaining himself to a servant. Not for the first time, had Hodges shown his disapproval of Anthony’s actions toward Clairece.

“Have you checked her office, my lord? My lady often works late.”

“And where might I find this office?” Anthony flushed at having to ask something he should have known.

“The end room on the first floor of the east wing, my lord.”

“But that’s—” Anthony ground his teeth until he thought his jaw would snap.

“It is the room she chose after you gave her permission to do so. Her ladyship has worked diligently on the redecorating and deserves praise for her accomplishments.”

“Do you presume to tell me how to treat my wife?” he gaped.

“Apparently so, my lord.”

“I should dismiss you without references.”

“As you say, my lord.”

Anthony bowed his head in defeat. “That room is evil. I don’t want her anywhere near it.”

“It is just a room,” Hodges said gently. “Let the past go, lad. Do not allow heinous memories to destroy what you could have now.”

Anthony peered at his aging retainer. Reaching out, he squeezed the older man’s shoulder. Hodges bowed, turned smartly on his heel, and strode away.

Fearing Hodges’ sage advice had come too late, Anthony barely controlled the urge to make a headlong dash down the hall to the east wing. As he neared the old earl’s study, his pace slowed.

Dim light shone beneath the door. He came to a standstill and swallowed. How many times as a youth had he stood outside this door, knowing what awaited him on the other side?

Anthony shuddered. He’d not entered this room since his stepfather’s death, and only then to order the desk and rug carried out and burned. Once all signs of the blood had been removed, he’d had the draperies closed and the doors locked.

He reached out a hand and pushed the door open.

Clairece heard Anthony’s footsteps as he approached and waited anxiously for him to enter. The guarded expression on his face gave her pause.

“You have something you wish to discuss?”

“Yes.” She took a step forward and he stiffened. “Will you forgive me?”

He tilted his head to the side. “Forgiveness was never in question.”

She knew him, knew the tender, caring heart beating inside this gentle man, and yet she had not stopped to consider what her irresponsible behavior would do to him. While his complete focus was on her safety and that of others, hers had been self-serving. As a result, she’d hurt the man who’d given her protection, understanding, and love.

“I hardly know what to say, Anthony.”

She watched his throat move as he swallowed. “Say what your heart tells you.”

He’s expecting me to leave him.
“My heart tells me it belongs to you.”

His gaze sharpened.

“It tells me you are everything I could ever wish for or want in this life, and assures me it would break into a thousand pieces without you.”

“What else does it say?” he asked quietly.

“It reminded me of my vows to love, honor, and obey my husband. I fell short in my promise to honor and obey, and for that—and what it cost you, cost us—I am truly sorry.”

Clairece advanced to stand in front of him, so close she could feel the heat from his body. He didn’t touch her, didn’t reach for her, and she felt the separation in every inch of her being.

She laid her hands on his chest. “I acted without thought. I fear it may have cost me your love.”

Anthony remained still beneath her hands. “Love without trust . . . what kind of love is that?” He slowly shook his head. “The sad truth is, Clairece, you do not trust me.”

She clutched the edges of his shirt in her hands. “Please, Anthony.”

He untangled her fingers from his shirtfront and placed a kiss in each palm. “When we married, you became mine to protect and cherish. On our wedding night, as we shared our bodies and consummated our marriage, I gave you a piece of my heart. Contrary to what some believe, hearts can, and do, break.”

“Anthony, I will change.” She was begging—pleading with him, and didn’t care.

“Hush, sweetheart. I fell in love with the person you are.” He framed her face with his hands. “I’m not asking you to change. Not now, not ever. But if you trust me, truly trust me, you will place your wellbeing in my hands and know you are safe. Although I believed my reasons sound, I pressured you into marrying me. That was unfair. If you feel the need to leave—”

She launched herself at him. “I won’t leave you.”

His arms encircled her waist and she felt his lips brush her ear. “You need to think long and hard, be certain before you commit to me once more. I will not do this again, Clairece.”

“With all my heart, I want to be your wife. I want to bear your children and watch them grow, as we age together.”

Anthony’s lips claimed hers in gentle acceptance. They stood locked in each other’s arms for long moments while Clairece thanked God for a second chance.

He eased back. “Will you show me your study?”

“I would love to,” she gushed. “I am so proud of what we’ve accomplished, and all from items purloined from the attics.”

Anthony frowned. “That was not necessary. You could have spent whatever you . . .” His gaze slid past her shoulder and he began to pivot in a slow circle.

Clairece clamped her hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle and fought the urge to bounce up and down. At the awed expression on his face, she let her excitement show. “You like it?”

“The change is miraculous. You’ve transformed a space I believed would always seem abhorrent, into an elegant little jewel.”

She watched him move from one piece of furniture to the next, running his fingers over the satin feel of the polished wood. He scrutinized the new window hangings and window seat. “I remember these,” he whispered.

“I have only to remove the remaining books from the top shelf and replace them with some of my choosing, and the room will be finished.”

“Feel free to pilfer from the library. Should there be something specific you wish, I’ll have it delivered here.”

Anthony continued to meander until he stopped before the painting of woman and child. “Mother,” he whispered and touched the canvas face with his thumb.

He moved on to an exquisitely carved curio cabinet and bent to study the two items resting behind the diamond-shaped panes; a feather-and-lace mask, and a pressed rose. “You kept them.”

Clairece moved to his side. “I fell a little in love with you that night.”

At his silence, she murmured, “Although you believed me a whore, you showed me more consideration, more tenderness, and gave me more pleasure, than I had received at the hands of a man who professed to love me. I shall always remember and treasure our first time together.”

Anthony took her hand in his. “You’ve been treated shabbily by those of my gender.”

“Sit by me?” She laced her fingers with his and led him to the window seat. He settled beside her and, again, grew quiet. Finally he spoke.

“As a small lad, I used to wonder why he didn’t care for me, why I couldn’t please him.”

Clairece knew to whom Anthony referred, and her heart ached for her husband. The late earl would have much to answer for in the afterlife.

“I wanted to be of importance to him, to be more than a means to secure the succession.” Anthony flicked a glance at her, then looked away.

She squeezed his hand. “You have no idea how important you are to those around you.”

“For their livelihood, perhaps.”

“That is simply not true. Any one of these people would fight for you, would lay down their life for you, because of the man you are. You’ve rebuilt this lovely home and the beautiful park to what it was originally intended to be—a safe haven for a family. You offer shelter and protection to those you find in dire straits. You gather them to you like a mother hen gathers her chicks, and offer them refuge with dignity.”

Clairece palmed his cheek, turning his face toward her. She met his gaze and whispered, “Many generations ago, this parkland was aptly named by an earl who deemed to call it The Sanctuary. However, this is simply a dwelling, and you, dear Anthony, are the true sanctuary.”

Chapter 56

Anthony wanted to believe Clairece. He wanted to believe his efforts to amend his failures as a youth were successful. And he desperately wanted to believe his life had value.

“Make love to me,” Clairece whispered.

He shook his head.

Her chin trembled. “Is it me?”

“Not you, sweetheart, but me. I will not abuse your affection in an attempt to exorcise the ghost from this room.”

“It’s all right, truly.”

“Do not absolve me so easily. I will not swive a loving, generous woman in this room. I will, however, make love to my adored wife in our bed.”

“Then take her to bed, husband, but be assured she would welcome your lovemaking anywhere.”

Anthony gained his feet and reached for her. They moved hand-in-hand through the mansion until they locked the doors of their chambers behind them.

“Turn around, my love.” He plucked the pins from her hair and uncoiled the long, thick, braid. His hands skimmed through her silky locks before settling on her shoulders. “We should remove these clothes.” Quickly he divested her of her clothing, then bent to press a kiss the tender spot at the hollow of her shoulder.

Clairece made a purring sound in the back of her throat.

“Such a sweet sound, one I’ve missed hearing.” He stepped back and let his gaze slide down her body. “You are so beautiful, my love.”

Anthony discarded his clothing, all the while holding her gaze. He settled his wife in the middle of his large four-poster bed and climbed in beside her. She nestled against him as he slid an arm beneath her shoulders and held her tightly against his side. “I love you, Clairece. The fact you love me in return, humbles me.”

When her lips brushed his temple, he closed his eyes lest she see the effect the small gesture had on his composure. She sent her hand skimming down his torso to rest on his abdomen. His attention shifted to her fingers. She licked the side of his neck, then grazed his collarbone with her teeth.

Anthony shivered.

Her seductive mouth continued its exploration down his body. She swirled her tongue over the flat disc of one nipple and sucked gently. He drew in a shuddering breath and felt her smile against his chest.
Vixen.

Determined to let her play, he concentrated on not moving. A soft humming began in her throat as she kissed and licked her way down his stomach. He had to grit his teeth to keep from reaching for her when her tongue swirled his belly button.

Clairece drew circles on his abdomen, dipping lower with each stroke. Although Anthony mentally prepared for what she might do next, his wits scattered when those roaming digits sleeved his engorged member and a warm, slick tongue skimmed the head of his swollen flesh. His groin jerked in greedy expectation.

He groaned, unable to stop the slight motion in his hips. Clairece cupped him in her hand and gently fingered his ballocks. Every cell in his body erupted with need as she took him in her mouth. At the pull of her lips, he levered upward.

“Enough, sweeting, I’ll spend if you continue.”

Clairece met his gaze, an expression of smug, feminine satisfaction in her cyan-blue orbs.

“You are a positive menace to my control.” Anthony rolled her beneath him, sheltering her with his limbs and weight. This would be their true wedding night. He would give her all the pleasure within his power to give, enough so the memory of this night would soothe her far into the future should something go wrong.

He kissed and caressed her from her forehead to her toes until she clutched at his shoulders, rocking her pelvis against him.

Anthony trailed his hand down her body to the soft curls and rubbed his fingers across her opening, spreading the moisture, dipping a finger into her damp heat. He maintained a slow, rhythmic, in-and-out motion until her hips pushed against his hand.

“Let go, beauty, find your pleasure.” He delved deeper and her intimate channel gripped his fingers as her climax took her.

Anthony held her until her limbs relaxed and she settled against him. “You are so beautiful while in the throes of passion.”

She sighed. “I am boneless, but you have not found your pleasure.”

“I will, but first I would see you find yours once more.” He settled his hips between her thighs. In one thrust, he seated himself deep within her.

He stilled, holding her gaze with his, he whispered, “The words I gave you when we married were the words necessary to make us man and wife. The words I offer now are from my heart. I, Anthony, take you, Clairece, to be my beloved wife, to have and to hold you, to honor and treasure you, to be at your side in sorrow and in joy, in good times and in bad, and to love and cherish you for all the days of my life.”

She smiled gently and vowed, “And I, Clairece, take you, Anthony, to be my husband and my one true love. I will cherish our union and love you more each day than I did the day before. I will trust you and respect you, laugh with you and cry with you, loving you faithfully through good times and bad. I willingly give you my heart, for all the days of my life.”

Anthony lowered his head and claimed her mouth in a kiss meant to bind them for the rest of their days.

He began to move in long, steady strokes. Within moments, she matched his rhythm in a dance older than time.

He slid his hands beneath her hips and lifted to receive him fully. Clairece wrapped her legs around him, locking her ankles behind his flanks. When she added a small rotation of her pelvis, a roaring started in his ears. He wanted to prolong their coupling, to give her as much pleasure as he could, but as her inner muscles began to grip and release, he lost his ability to think.

“Come with me, love,” he groaned against her temple.

As the first tremors began inside her sheath, moving along his manhood in rippling jerks, his body tightened with impending climax. He threw his head back, gritted his teeth, and thrust deeper, pounding into her. She came with a high, keening sound and convulsed around him. Her cry was his undoing. Awareness narrowed and centered on the point where their bodies joined. The roaring in his ears increased until, with a low guttural shout, his seed pulsed into her body.

Sometime later, Anthony became aware of Clairece gently stroking his back. The scent of orange blossoms and woman filled his senses. He disengaged and rolled to his side, taking her with him. She snuggled closer.

“Rest, my love, for your husband plans to wake you as the sun rises and show you how much he adores you.”

Clairece murmured something unintelligible. Within moments, her breathing settled into the steady rhythm of sleep.

As Anthony held the woman he loved more than life itself, a few disturbing thoughts intruded.

Something was off with James, of that he was certain. Although worry could make a man behave differently, they’d been friends for a long time and there was something in James’ reticence not in evidence before.

Tomorrow, he would take James aside and speak to him.

His mind drifted, finally settling on the light left burning in her new office. Eager to reach their apartments, he’d not remembered the lamp.

Anthony slipped from the bed, pulling on a pair of loose-fitting, silk trousers. He tied the drawstring at the waist, stuffed his feet in a pair of slippers, and shrugged into his robe as he exited the room.