A Lady's Secret Page 12

  “But I—”

  “I do not need any help, Oliver. Good day.”

  He watched helplessly as she turned and walked away from him. She crossed the lawn, her spine stiff and her steps measured, every inch the lady. But he had somehow—completely unwittingly—harmed what had been growing between them. He had no idea what he had done—for she truly seemed to enjoy the kiss—but somehow he would have to make it up to her.

  Because if he had his way—and he usually did—he planned to kiss that woman again. And again. And, even, again.

  Chapter 24

  Lucie ran a hand over her midsection. Flat. Even with the elaborate gown she had donned in celebration of their first dinner downstairs since the robbery, she was svelte. Too svelte for her liking.

  Jealousy wasn’t an emotion she favored, but the truth was, she was jealous of Vivian’s growing shape. Her cousin positively glowed, and the brightest smiles on her face accentuated the bloom of her cheeks. A baby, and so quickly, for the couple. It was a blessing, but Lucie could not help herself—she wished to be blessed in the same exact manner as the fates had seen fit to bestow upon the other woman.

  Why, to be raising children so closely matched in ages would be enchanting. If only it could be so, but, as she knew all too well, this was not the month for such optimism. They had failed miserably—yet again—but at least now Nick knew how she felt about his staying near enough to make their family grow.

  She had not meant for his confinement, which made it utterly impossible for him to travel. When they discussed her feelings, she asked only that he travel less and stay nearer her more. Not only for the sake of the family they hoped to have, but for them, as well. Nick had gone from stranger who proposed a marriage in name only to her closest companion. He was her confidante. Her teacher on traveling the world. A man who talked as glibly about fashion—what appealed to him, at any rate—as he did about fox hunting. Which, although she listened to his fox tales, she found distasteful.

  It did not matter. Friends shared all manner of things. For her husband, it meant discussing fichus and dance slippers. Lucie endured musings on horseflesh, hunting escapades and how to best handle a curricle in wet weather. So, they grew together, and all she asked was he remain near enough that their association had the chance to become even cozier than it already was.

  They had been married for just under two years, but it felt as if they had been together forever. She did not remember a time when they were not husband and wife, although she did recall with fondness their first meeting. And, their first dance.

  Nick’s voice warmed her from the inside out and chased away the collywobbles about her figure. Just a word from the man made her feel there wasn’t a single thing wrong in the world.

  “You are a vision in that gown, my dear. You shall make the centerpieces wilt, they will be so jealous of your beauty.”

  She turned to face him. When he’d been injured, the doctor ordered a push chair. It was a handsome conveyance made of warm oak with a carved backrest and padded seat. His bad leg was held up by a wooden leg rest, and if he were to be believed, it was actually a rather comfortable way to move about.

  His valet had been incredibly gentle and compassionate, taking pride in not making the rigors of dressing and undressing any more tiring on his lordship than necessary. He’d turned the duke out in fine form tonight, so she nodded and flashed a bright smile.

  “Why, you could catch a whole den of bears, you have so much honey dripping from those words. I appreciate your sentiment, but I am quite sure the flowers will be safe.” She crossed the sitting room and stood in front of his chair. Leaning down, she adjusted his collar. Then she looked up at the man standing behind the chair and nodded. “Thank you, Randolph. You and his lordship have put his eveningwear to good use. I will bring my husband to the stairs. We shall be there shortly.”

  “Thank you, your Ladyship. And I shall be waiting at the head of the stairs whenever you are ready to go to dinner.”

  Randolph was in his early twenties, a strong man who had not had one ounce of trouble caring for an infirmed duke. He lifted her husband, who was not fat but very well-muscled and therefore somewhat heavier than a slighter man would be, without any effort at all. The situation was improving daily, and the man’s help made it all less troublesome by far.

  When the valet left, closing the door quietly behind him, Lucie gathered her skirt and sat on her husband’s lap. He pulled her into his embrace and settled her against his chest. She lay back against him, finding the spot where her head could hear his heart as she tucked her cheek against his shoulder.

  “How do you feel, my love? Are you sure you want to go back downstairs?”

  “I am fine. Getting stronger every day, and yes, I do want to go down for dinner. We need to take part in family life again. We cannot remain locked up here forever.”

  She sighed. “Why not? I like being locked in with you.”

  Nick ran a hand down her arm, his skin warm against hers above the elbow-high white gloves and below the edge of the gown’s tulip sleeve. She shivered against him, gooseflesh rising on her in response to his caress.

  “Are you cold? Shall we fetch a shawl before we go down?”

  He was never inconsiderate. Given the condition of his leg, shoulder and some internal organs, which the doctor refused to discuss, saying only they would heal in their own good time and as long as Nick continued to exhibit normal bodily functions they would not trouble themselves over the damage, had he taken this one opportunity to think only of himself no one would have thought poorly of the man. But he did not, staying true to character even in his battered state.

  “I am fine.” She turned her head, placed her lips against his jaw and kissed him. The point where a vein beat just below his freshly shaven skin was particularly appealing, so she nuzzled him for a moment, spreading tiny kisses to a place she knew from experience was exceedingly sensitive.

  “Mmm…” The rumble made his chest vibrate, so she lifted her face and stared into his eyes. The man was the answer to every dream she had ever had, and even if they lived to be a hundred, there would not be enough days in their lifetimes to satisfy her desire to lock gazes with him.

  “Yes?” The question was a whisper, a gentle sound borne on the slightest breath.

  “Yes.” He put a hand on the back of her neck and brought her mouth to his. Their kiss, so tender and loving, sent the rest of the world into oblivion. There was nothing, and no one, outside the love they shared. He broke their bond and growled against her neck, “Maybe we should stay up here after all.”

  The doctor had been clear about refraining from marital activity until Nick was more fully recovered, so she pushed him very gently away.

  “I don’t think that is a good idea at all.” She licked her lips, and smoothed her skirt. She tasted him on her skin, and felt her heart melt. There were times it still amazed her that such a wonderful man was actually her husband. Better yet, he loved her.

  “It is a grand idea.” He cupped one of her breasts with his free hand, running his fingers across the stiff peak pressed against the shimmery bodice. The gown was made of the sheerest yellow chiffon. So soft and elegant, yet somehow understated. Now, she wondered if her breasts might dent the expensive fabric, her nipples were so hard.

  “Doctor Fairweather says—”

  He cut her off with a kiss as he wiggled one fingertip over the edge of her bodice and into her gown. His touch against her sensitive areola made her gasp—but he did not stop. And, she did not pull away.

  “Doctor Fairweather does not know what he’s talking about.”

  “He is the doctor.” She kissed Nick’s brow.

  His fingers left her breast and found her hand. He pulled it toward his trousers, placing it so the evidence of his desire throbbed hotly against her palm.

  Her husband met her gaze with a wicked little grin as he pressed her hand hard against him.

  “The doctor does not know how well I a
m doing.” A groan, so deep and throaty it sent chills of desire up Lucie’s spine. He took his hand away, yet she continued to caress him. It would have to stop, she knew that, but a few seconds of pleasure were glorious.

  “I am glad you are recovering so nicely.” She gave him a tiny squeeze as she grinned. “But I am quite sure this type of activity is off-limits for a while. I don’t even have to ask the doctor to know that is so.”

  “But it has been so long, and I miss you.” When she took the hand from him, he caught it and brought her fingertips to his mouth. He kissed each one in turn, looking at her as he did so. His lovemaking skills, even out of the bedroom, left her breathless. “It has been too long. A man could go crazy from wanting his wife so much.”

  She sighed at the pleading in his eyes. Such a schoolboy look, almost impossible to refuse, on such an adult subject. He was right, it had been a long time since they had been close.

  “Soon, Nick. We cannot jeopardize your health to satisfy our wanton ways.” A giggle when he pulled a face.

  “It has been so long I will probably not remember how to be wanton, my dear. Why, the last time we were—”

  He stopped short as clarity struck them both dumb.

  They last time they had been intimate was the night of the robbery, just minutes before their world turned upside down and they nearly lost each other for good.

  Lucie would never forget that day. Never.

  And, by the ashen color in Nick’s handsome face, neither would he.

  Chapter 25

  Oliver watched the doorway leading to the front hall, but Amy did not present herself in the parlor with the rest of those in residence so she was not with them when they headed to the dining room. He wished it were possible to just go upstairs, knock on her door and ask her to join them. It was, of course, completely out of the question, but that did not make him any less eager to do so.

  It was good that Mother had eased her anxiety over social protocol because with Amy, they would have been only nine at the table. Not ten, but an odd number, something that would have put the hostess at sixes and sevens just a few years back. It was funny what a change of perspective brought on by a series of life-altering experiences could do for a person. He glanced over as she spoke quietly to one of the dining room maids. By the time they were in the room, the extra place setting had been taken away, and the ones nearest moved ever-so slightly to conceal its absence.

  The room was set more for family than entertaining. The long, polished table was hidden beneath a starched ivory cloth, white china with hand-painted floral details, silver flatware and sparkling glasses made the prospect of eating pleasurable. It could accommodate many more, but the extra leaves were not in so the maximum number of comfortable diners was an even dozen; with less it there was plenty of elbow room.

  Father took his place at the head, and Mother sat to his right. With Nick in the push chair, it was a sensible move to allow him the spot at the far end of the table. Lucie sat beside her husband, on his right. Vivian and Will sat on that side as well, so the remaining chairs were left to him and Miranda.

  He waited until she was seated before he took his place beside her. When their napkins had been unfolded and were in their laps, he turned his attention on his dinner partner.

  And, chose an unfortunate opening.

  “Have you an idea where Amy is? I rather thought to see her at dinner.”

  He couldn’t have stuck his foot any farther into his mouth if he’d tried. There was no way to recall his words although he would have given his favorite horse if it had been possible. The glare Miranda shot him—before she arranged her features into a calm veneer, of course—could have set him ablaze, it was so scorching.

  Damn, but he could make a mess of things without even trying. He would be single his entire life if he did not learn how to navigate the waters surrounding women. To be fair, he was not generally addlebrained at the dining table. Somehow he had let the words tumble straight from his mind to his mouth. Now, he would pay the price.

  Startling how a woman had the capacity to change from scorching glare to icy stare in a heartbeat.

  Miranda lifted her soup spoon and took a taste of what had just been placed before them. The aroma was pleasing, and even without glancing down at his bowl, he identified the soup by its spiciness. One of Nick’s favorites, something he had tasted while in Italy, called minestrone. A vegetable soup that was served nearly every time the duke and his wife were visiting.

  He waited while she swallowed. Placed her spoon down. Dabbed her lips.

  Finally, she turned to him. “I have no idea where Amy is. No inkling what she is thinking. Not a clue what she plans to do. I imagine that takes care of all your questions.” She lifted her spoon, stirred the soup and contemplated the vegetables swirling in the broth for a long moment. Without looking up, she added, “I do suspect you have been much, ah, closer to my sister recently than I have. It is a surprise you are not the one to know her schedule.”

  There was little for him to say.

  Oliver took to his soup with more enthusiasm than he felt. Being cut down by the one woman who had chased him his whole adult life was enough to startle him into silence. He deserved what he got, and it was abundantly clear Miranda no longer had any interest in chasing him anywhere.

  When his mother engaged his dining partner in conversation, he nearly jumped for joy. He could think of nothing more to say to the woman beside him. The possibility he might put his foot in it again was enough to silence him.

  It was an unfortunate turn of events but not without its silver lining. If Miranda no longer desired a match with him, he did not need to be constantly on his guard to keep his distance from her. It was tiring, running from someone who very often lived within his walls.

  He turned to Nick, who was smiling at Lucie. How he would feel blessed if a woman—a certain woman—smiled at him so lovingly. It did not seem likely, since he had apparently upset both sisters in one day. A new record, he thought with a frown.

  Interrupting them seemed unkind, but he hadn’t had a chance to speak with Nick earlier.

  “You do seem to be feeling much better. It is good to see you looking so hale.” He tasted his soup. It was divine, another example of the kitchen’s prowess. “And I am glad you gave the cook instructions on how to make this. I must admit, it has become one of my favorites.”

  Nick had already finished, and his bowl had been cleared away. “You have good taste.”

  “In some things, perhaps. Food being one of them,” Oliver allowed. “Other things? Not really.”

  “Ah, a problem?” His sister’s lilting tease made him smile. She was so much more vibrant now that she was married, so much surer of herself. It warmed his heart to see how love had made a difference in her life.

  “Not a problem. I just am not as talented as your husband at spreading cheer. I don’t know of any wonderful recipes to share, and I am less likely to make a woman smile than frown.” He put his spoon down. Gave her a long, appraising look. Goodness, but she was a changed woman. “How does he do it? How does your husband keep that smile on your pretty face? I need to know his secret, if you don’t mind sharing.”

  She leaned closer to Nick, placed a hand on his arm, and gave him a fast wink. The role of wife suited her so well, and it was clear that she was comfortable in it.

  “I don’t mind sharing, not at all. Although there really isn’t a big secret to it.” She paused, then met Nick’s gaze with an endearing look in her eyes. Her voice dropped, and she said, “It is love, plain and simple, that brings happiness and laughter. No secret…just love.”

  Well that was no help at all, was it?

  “So that is what I am doing wrong, then. I just need to…ah, well, I don’t know—doesn’t the whole love thing require emotion on both sides?” He was pretty sure he had finally found his way to the emotion, but by the behavior of the other party, he wasn’t sure it was reciprocal. Oh, the complexity of even the basic elemen
ts of life were enough to make a man consider celibacy.

  He realized the chatter at the table had died somewhat. It occurred to him that Miranda, who so recently had dressed him down, listened in.

  There was no keeping the subject quiet now. Once begun, a topic grew a life of its own.

  Nick nodded, after a tender glance at his wife. She still had a hand on his arm, so he placed one of his over hers. It all looked very cozy. And, it made Oliver the tiniest bit jealous.

  “Why, that does help.” He patted Lucie’s hand. “Although I can say that even if the other party does not immediately ‘fall in love’ as the saying goes, it is an emotional state that evolves. Just as love grows deeper with time and circumstance, it also blooms when given the right conditions.”

  “Sounds rather like a greenhouse orchid.” Lord Gregory’s observation brought a round of laughter at the table. “Might as well hope for a green thumb as a full heart, it seems.”

  “Yes, it does at that, doesn’t it?” Nick looked at his wife, totally at ease with allowing his admiration to shine for all to witness. “I rather believe my orchid is the loveliest in any greenhouse…”

  Lucie’s cheeks grew pink.

  “Well, yes…” Father sputtered a bit; he was a tad disconcerted with open displays of affection—unless he was the one displaying, in which case it was less discomforting for him. “Ah, right, here we are. The main course. I do hope it is more than the rabbit food old Fairweather has kept me to. I am a bit tired of carrots and cauliflower, my dear.”

  The doctor, along with the prohibition regarding pipe smoking, ruled out fatty foods. That left a diet of vegetables, fruit and fish, which was good for a man’s heart condition but bad for the disposition.

  With a long-suffering sigh, purely for the entertainment of all assembled, his wife waved a hand through the air. She turned to the maid who served the vegetables and said, “His Lordship would like an extra-large serving of Brussels sprouts, if you please.”