The Duke's Bride (10 page)

After a few hours of staring into an empty hearth, he
decided to go to bed. He strode upstairs and froze when a small whimper sounded
from Jane’s bedchambers.

His heart squeezed. He opened the door to their connecting
chambers and saw her blond curls peeking out from her pillow. The scent of some
new perfume filled his nostrils as he walked softly into the room. A slight
snore made him smile. Had she been dreaming?

He stopped and gazed at her. When had she become so
beautiful? Not that she wasn’t beautiful before, but after all she had gone
through, there was something about her now that looked almost heavenly.

He watched in silence as she whimpered again, then turned on
her back. But as he hovered over her, the captain’s words came back to haunt
him.
If she were not married, I would sweep her off her feet and make her
mine in no time.

Roderick’s face hardened. Captain James Argyle had best keep
his hands off his wife if the man wanted to live.

But blast it all, he thought grimly. How long could he go on
like this? He adored his wife. He was more attracted to her now then before
they were married. And Jane wanted a baby.

He closed his eyes and ran a frustrated hand over his face. It
was a volatile combination. He wanted Jane alive and well. Yet, at what price
was he willing to pay? They fought constantly. But he had to be strong for the
both of them. When Cecile had died, it had been because he—

“Roderick, is that you?”

Two sleepy blue eyes blinked up at him. His heart gave a
skip. He sat on the edge of her bed and kissed her cheek. “It’s me, sweetheart.
Who else could it be?”

She smiled. “I was dreaming we had a little boy and we named
him Augustus.”

Roderick frowned. She would never have children, yet she
would have been such a good mother. Perhaps, in time, they could adopt. After
his brothers produced an heir.

He tapped her nose with his forefinger. “Ah, Augustus sounds
like a Roman Emperor.”

“Hmmm,” she said, mumbling, stretching her hands overhead.
“I wish you would kiss me.”

Roderick stared at the connecting door to his chambers. What
harm could one little kiss do? He hungered for this woman. He yearned for her.

He bent down and set his lips against hers. The softness of her
mouth sent his heart thudding against his chest

“Oh, Roderick.” She wrapped her arms around him. “I missed
you so.”

Roderick inhaled the sweet scent of her and felt his brain turn
to mush. Her soft skin pressed against his cheek. Her warm breath whispered along
his neck. There was no help for it. His defenses were weakening. But this was
his wife. He had every right to love her.

He slipped a hand to the nape of her neck, feeling the softness
of her curls. “Ah, Jane. I missed you too.”

 “You never danced with me,” she said against his ear.
“I wished you would have stayed beside me all night.”

He could tell she was still half asleep. “Forgive me. I
thought you were entertained by others.”

Tears leaked from her lids onto his chin, and his heart felt
as if it was slammed against a brick wall. He pulled her against him. “What is
it, sweetheart?”

Her soft body felt so right in his arms. She wasn’t as slim
as was when they were first married, but he didn’t care. However, he felt ill knowing
she was eating to ease her sorrow, and confound it all, he didn’t know what to
do for her.

Her hand reached up to comb through his hair, awakening
every nerve in his body. “I just missed you,” she said in a silky voice. “That’s
all. Love me, Roderick. Please love me.”

Her sweet plea almost brought him to his knees. His hands
moved down her back in a gentle caress. He could not believe this amazing woman
was his wife. He would walk to his bedchambers in a minute, he told himself.
Just one more minute.

Her small arms encircled his waist, and he closed his eyes,
feeling as if she had gouged out a part of his heart with her request. Yet in
the back of his mind he didn’t know if he would come back from France alive. Whitehall
had mentioned he and Jared would be moving targets for Devereaux’s son, but the
man had to be found.

His wife turned and slid trembling fingers over his collarbone.
In the moonlight, her tearful blue eyes sparkled like diamonds, making his heart
clench.

“I love you,” she whispered. “I will always love you.”

Her small gesture of unconditional love was enough to send
him over the edge. With a groan, he slipped in beside her. “Ah, sweetheart.” He
kissed her with a passion that sent his senses spiraling into another world.

He would hold her for just a little longer, then leave. He
had missed her too much.

But when her lips pressed against his ear, all thoughts of
leaving her leapt from his brain. Her tender touch made him ache for her. He
needed this. Needed her. Needed to know she was his. Forever. And in the next
few minutes, he found himself lost in a world of loving his wife, with no
thoughts to the outcome. He loved her, as he had never loved her before.

J
ane woke the next morning with a smile on her
face. She had dreamt that Roderick had slept beside her, that he had loved her
last night, and it had been wonderful.

She turned from her pillow, hoping her dream had been real.
A musky cologne tickled her nose, and she felt alive for the first time in
months. Surely, he must have noticed the change in her body. Her hand reached
for him, and her head jerked toward the crumpled quilts.

The bed was empty.

She fell against her pillow and wanted to weep.

“Oh, Roderick,” she sobbed. He had been there. But he had
left before she had awakened. When they were first married, there were days
when he would never leave her side. Now, he drifted in and out of her life, thinking
nothing about it. Was this how it was to be the rest of her life?

She swung her legs over the bed and took in a shaky breath.
She would conquer this. He wanted her. Surely, he still loved her. He must have
noticed that something was different about her. Perhaps, he realized she was
with child and could not understand why she had not told him. But she had told
him! He had not listened!

Her gaze strayed to the diamond stickpin on her nightstand.
Her heart gave a little skip. He had been there!

Still clad in her dressing gown, she bounced out of bed and ran
across the room, opening the connecting door to their chambers. It was locked. She
smiled. Silly man!

She banged her fist against the wood. “Roderick, open this
door at once.”

“Deuce take it, woman, can’t a man sleep?”

Hope fluttered in her chest. “Open up. I need to speak with
you.”

The door swung open, and she flew into her husband’s arms.
“You love me, don’t you?”

Roderick’s lips were grim as he set her aside. He was clad
in a pair of buckskin breeches and his chest was bare. He had not been sleeping
at all when she had knocked. Was he brooding because he didn’t love her
anymore?

 “I have always loved you,” he snapped. “What a ridiculous
question.”

She frowned, feeling the iciness between them return. Perhaps
he still didn’t realize she was with child. “Whatever is the matter?”

She felt her tummy and laughed. “Oh, you think I have put on
a few pounds? Well, I have an answer for that. In fact, I think you will like
it. Not that you have listened to anything I have said before, but—”

“I forgot myself, Jane,” he said, interrupting her.  

Her heart dropped. “What?”

He turned and grabbed a shirt from his wardrobe.

She frowned as she stared at the muscles rippling along his back.
He was ignoring her. He was ignoring everything that had happened between them.

“You must know that I am leaving for France soon,” he said
in a causal tone, as if he had not touched her at all last night. “I spoke to
Jared, and it seems we are to leave today. To, uh, look for that land we talked
about. Whitehall has asked us to look into it.”

Land? How stupid did he think she was?

She sank against the bed, a four-poster walnut frame that
had been handed down from three hundred years of Clearbrooks. “Today?” she
replied, her voice losing her enthusiasm. “I thought—”

He slapped a hand against his thigh. “Well, you thought
wrong.” The hostility in his voice sliced her heart in two.

She stumbled to stand and held onto the bed. “What are you
saying?”

There was a knock on the door, startling them both.

“What the devil?” Roderick grabbed the handle and whipped the
door open.

His butler stood before him. “Your Grace, may I have a word
with you.”

Jane stood behind Roderick, peeking out from behind him. What
in the world was his butler doing here at this hour in the morning? The man
rarely ever knocked on the bedchamber doors. It usually was a footman or the
valet.

The older man’s bushy brows went up a notch when he detected
Jane standing in her husband’s bedchambers, half dressed.

Well, she was his wife, was she not?

“Is there something wrong,” she asked, lifting her chin.

The butler grinned. “Nothing at all, Your Grace. Nothing at
all.”

Roderick grimaced at he glanced over his shoulders. He
shifted a surly gaze back toward his servant. “Then why the devil did you knock
on my door at this ridiculous hour, man?”

The butler’s face reddened as he took another look at Jane.
“It seems, uh, we are to have a visitor, Your Grace.”

“A visitor?” Jane frowned. “Who would be visiting at eight
o’clock in the morning?”

The butler gulped. “’Tis the king, Your Grace. Uh, not
visiting now, but later this afternoon. I just received notice and thought I
should relay the information to you directly.”

Roderick’s eyes widened. “The king! Why the devil is he
coming here?”

The butler swallowed visibly. “I have no idea, Your Grace.”

Roderick dismissed the man and started pacing his chambers. “Devil
take it! This sounds ominous.”

Jane put her hands to her hips. “Perhaps he is hoping to ask
you for money. I think he spends extravagantly. His coronation is supposed to
be outlandish.”

 Roderick spun around. His shirt was still open, baring
his muscular torso. How many times had she placed her head against that chest,
listening to the beat of his heart? Feeling the safety of his embrace? Knowing
his love was meant for her and her alone?

She lifted her gaze to meet his blank stare and wanted to
weep. He had slighted her this morning as if she were nothing to him. Was Lady Trayton
her competition now?

Roderick scowled. “Be careful what you say about the man. Our
king can say and do just about anything he wants. In fact, he may be here
because of my visit to France. The visit is of a delicate nature.”

Jane’s eyes widened. “Delicate nature? Ah, yes, forgive me.
It’s not Whitehall looking for land now, it’s George IV. How dimwitted can I
be? It all makes perfect sense!”

Roderick clenched his teeth. “Very well, it is more than
land, and that is all I am going to say.”

“I fail to see why you cannot include your wife in your
dealings with Whitehall and your reconnaissance missions.”

His jaw dropped.

She shook her head, not caring what he thought about her
knowledge of his doings. “Never mind. But I will tell you this. Since George
the III died and the Prince Regent took his place, our country has never been
the same. That man has used England’s money to his heart’s content. His
marriage is a shambles, and truthfully, Roderick, I don’t like him.”

Roderick’s lips thinned. “I will ask you once again to
curtail your opinion of our king for the safety of yourself and the family.”

She shrugged. “I am not stupid.”

“No, but you do tend to voice your opinion more than most.”

She could not fault him there.

“The point is,” Roderick continued, “there is always a
reason when the man comes calling. I am becoming more disturbed about this
visit by the minute.”

She saw his face soften and walked toward him, wrapping her hands
about his waist. “Well, darling, as long as I have your undivided attention, I
thought I would tell you my little secret.”

He looked down at her. She smiled up at him. Flames seemed
to dance in his eyes.

She rested her head against the cool skin beneath his shirt
and tightened her hold. “As I was saying—”

He jerked her aside, and in two quick strides, he was
standing on the other side of the room. “Go back to your room, Jane.”

Heat flew to her cheeks. “W-what?”

His hungry gaze moved from the tip of her head to the tip of
her toes. Her heart leapt. Oh ho, the man was not immune to her at all.

“I said, go back to your room,” he ground out.

His harsh words pierced her heart. But she was not going to
beg. “What about last night?”

“Last night never happened.”

Tears welled in her eyes. “I see.”

“Devil take it,” he said, slapping the wall. “Don’t look at
me like that. I am off to France tonight, and don’t want anything between us.”

Her jaw shot out in anger. “Anything between us? Ha, I will
tell you this. There is a lot between us, and if you are too dumb to see it, I
cannot help you. In fact, I would say you were blind!”

He set his chin. “I don’t have time for this.”

Jane picked up a vase and threw it at him. He ducked just as
it crashed against the wall.

He gazed in astonishment at the pieces of glass scattered
about the floor. “Thunder and Zeus,” he said, looking back at her. “You could
have cut my face with that, or some other bodily part.”

She rolled her lips in fury. “Oh my, my, the great duke
might get a little scratch. Goodness me, I will have to perfect my aim then.”
Without warning, she grabbed the water pitcher and hurled it at him.

With an oath, he fell to the floor and barely avoided the
projectile.

“Confound it,” he said, peeking over the bed. “What the
devil is wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with
me
?” She picked up a neatly,
polished Hessian boot and whipped it at him. “I have never…” She picked up the
other boot. “Been so mad…” Threw it. “In my life!”

Chuckling, he dodged the flying objects.

She gritted her teeth. “Don’t you dare laugh at me!” She yanked
a small oil painting off the wall, and it crashed near his feet. He dove under
the bed.

“Dash it all! Have a care, Jane! Those were my new boots
from Hoby’s! And that oil painting was a gift from Wellington!”

“Ooooh, if I were a man, I would dump this bed on you!”

“Thank goodness, you are not a man, madam. For I would not
have married you then.”

Jane wanted to scream. “You…you bully!” And with that, she
slammed the door behind her and locked it. “Do not expect me to be here when
the king comes calling!”

Roderick sat behind his desk and stared out the window
of his study. Low white clouds hovered in the distance. He wondered if it was
going to rain.

Before he had entered the room, he had watched as Jane
had made her way downstairs for breakfast. She had gazed past him, as if he
were nothing but a statue standing in the hallway.

He felt about an inch tall. But what the devil was he
supposed to do? He had let Cecile talk him into her mission and she had been
killed. Had he not learned an important lesson? How could he let Jane talk him
into things or entice him into trying for another baby?

He grimaced. He didn’t want to loose her. But confound
it! He was already losing her. What a devil of a coil.

Later that morning, he had peered through the window
as Jane entered the carriage with Emily and headed in the direction of the Pump
Room. Jane had looked like an angel in her light blue gown and soft white
shawl.

He did not like the idea of having her face the
gossips without him. But his wife was a stubborn woman, and once she had
something to prove, she didn’t let anyone stop her. He was going to tell her
that he would have accompanied her, but she wanted nothing to do with him right
now. Well, was that not what he wanted?

Scowling, he grabbed his pen and tapped it against the
desk. Not only that, he had added to her grief by being unkind to her this
morning. His plan of avoiding her was near to impossible. She was in his blood.
And confound it, the more he tried to save her from him, the more distance he put
between them. Yet, loving her last night had been heaven.

She could be with child now. He put his head in his
hands and groaned.
What the devil had he done?

“Are you going to be able to make the journey?” Jared
asked, frowning.

Roderick’s head snapped up. He had forgotten about his
friend. “What?”

“Blast it, Roderick! If you continue like this, you
will be more of a hazard than a help.”

Roderick rose and crossed the room. “I was just
thinking.”

Jared strode toward the door, shaking his head. “Yes,
well, thinking is one thing. Dreaming is quite another. Get yourself together,
man. We cannot afford any mishaps on this journey. Jupiter, make your peace
with Jane, or you will be no use to me at all.”

Roderick frowned as Jared departed. His friend was
right. He did not want to leave with anger hanging between him and his wife. What
if he died?

He buttoned his jacket and made a decision. Before the
king arrived, he would make his way to the Pump Room to find Jane. He needed to
settle this now. He would make certain Society knew he adored his wife. He would
also make certain they treated her with the respect she was due.

As he readied to leave the house, he stepped into the
hall and barely caught himself when he ran into Clayton.

 “Going somewhere?” his brother asked, glaring at
him. “Because if you are, you may want to know that Garette has left Bath with
his tail between his legs.”

 “The man’s the least of my worries,” Roderick
muttered, heading toward the front door.

Clayton’s heels clapped behind him.

Roderick glanced over his shoulder. “Where the devil
do you think you are going?”

“With you.”

“I don’t need an escort,” he snapped.

Clayton glowered at him. “An escort? Maybe not. But by
Jove, you need someone to take you in hand. I thought you were going to kill
the man last night.”

Roderick pulled at his waistcoat. “Did you truly think
so?”

“Yes.”

“Well, then, I’m heading to the Pump Room. Do you sincerely
wish to go?”

Clayton flashed him a beaming smile. “Actually, no.
But my wife is there. So is Stephen and Elizabeth.” He let out a chuckle. “Why
the devil should I not go? A little entertainment from you might make my day. I
am in Jane’s corner, if we must take sides.”