Lyn Stone Page 10

  And for another thing, Beau did not need to endure the constant harping of his grandmother or be at risk from the possible machinations of his uncle. Guy could not be with him every minute.

  Had Clive truly been the one who wanted her declared insane? If so, he must be an excellent actor because he had shown no surprise to see her returned. Wouldn’t he have done so if he thought her securely tucked away in Bedlam?

  However the fact that he had traveled all the way from London the very same night that she and Guy had, and that he and his mother came here immediately, seemed to verify his guilt. That was hardly proof, but it was enough to convince her she would be better off with Clive living somewhere else.

  Chapter Seven

  Guy leaned back in his chair and sipped his coffee, his gaze fastened on the man they suspected had betrayed Lily. The silence had the intended effect.

  “Lily’s quite mad, you know,” Clive said.

  “Is she now? I confess I hadn’t noticed. Is that why you had her spirited away to St. Mary’s?”

  Clive frowned. “Where?”

  “Bedlam. Someone kidnapped her and had her forcibly confined at St. Mary of Bethlem hospital.”

  Clive laughed, his eyes wide as he set down his cup with a clatter. “That’s absurd! She has fed you the lies of a highly disturbed mind, Duquesne.”

  Guy pursed his lips and regarded the man carefully. He did appear surprised. Or had missed his calling as an actor. “So you had nothing to do with that.”

  “With what? She imagined the entire thing. I’m sorry, but she is a lunatic. How can you be wed to the woman and not have witnessed this?” He sighed. “In your defense, I suppose she might not yet have had one of her spells when you were with her.”

  “We haven’t been together much since the ceremony,” Guy said. “Why don’t you explain further to me what set her off?”

  Clive shook his head and donned a sad expression. “It’s not too late for an annulment, you know. I’m certain she never told you of her affliction and that is certainly grounds for an immediate dissolution.”

  Guy nodded slowly, his hands clasped in front of him. “So you would have me set aside the marriage.” He shook his forefinger. “Now you must admit, Clive, that does sound suspiciously like a suggestion you would make to further your own aims.”

  “My aims?” Clive’s eyebrows shot up and he pressed a hand to his chest. “I have no aims, Duquesne. What do you mean?” His voice had risen a full octave.

  “It means that I know what you’re up to and if I could prove it, you’d be under arrest.” Guy pushed away from the table and stood.

  He reached just forward of his plate and picked up a piece of silver, rotating it between his thumb and forefinger. Then he peered down his nose at the man he had despised at first sight.

  “It also means that if anyone…anyone at all…touches my wife again for any reason whatsoever, I will carve out his eyes with this butter knife.” He placed the dull utensil just to the right of Clive’s plate, paused for effect, then added, “And then I shall kill him. Very slowly.”

  With an evil smile of promise, Guy left him there with his mouth hanging open and a look of horror on his face.

  Guy needed to speak with Lily. The hell with keeping the two close to see what they were up to. He knew already. These people were abominable. He had sooner spend a week with the worst bully-boys in the stews than another hour in the house with Clive and his mother.

  He found Lily in the kitchen discussing dinner with a heavyset woman he had not yet met.

  “Duquesne!” Lily said, greeting him with a sunny smile. “I’d like you to meet Mrs. Kale, our cook. Mrs. Kale, my husband, Viscount Duquesne.”

  He smiled at the new face, doughy as an apple dump-ling, creased with laugh lines and dotted with raisin-dark eyes. She smelled of cinnamon and nutmeg. He liked her immediately.

  “The meal was excellent, Mrs. Kale. I am most happy you are here.”

  “Thank you, milord,” she said with a giggle, dipping in a brief curtsy. “If you’ve a sweet tooth, I keep biscuits in the larder for any lads what fancy ’em. The young sir can vouch they’re grand for taking the edge off hunger.”

  Guy closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. “Ah. You are a jewel beyond price. I can smell them from here.”

  Lily laughed. “Because there’s a fresh batch just baked there on the table. Now cease cozzening Cook and come stroll the garden, Duquesne.”

  “One biscuit first, and then I am all yours, my lady.”

  Mrs. Kale reached for a tin on the worktable and held out a warm crisp cake to him. “Have a nice walkabout,” she said.

  “Another conquest,” Lily commented when they were out of Cook’s earshot. “Beau’s already eating out of your hand. You simply ooze charm, don’t you, Duquesne?”

  “Your in-laws are not so taken with me,” he argued, licking a crumb off his finger. “These are sinful concoctions.”

  “Wait until you taste her almond delights. I forbade her to make them more than once a week or I should weigh twice what you do.”

  She reached to break off a pink rosebud, but Guy got to it first. He snapped the stem, then straightened. “The petals are shamed by the softness of your cheek, my love.” He drew the flower down the curve of her face.

  “Oh, please!” she said, laughing merrily. But she took the rose, her hand brushing slowly over his as she relieved him of the bloom.

  “Bathed in sunlight as you are, I lose my very breath to look at you,” Guy said seriously. Perhaps he was doing it up a bit brown, but it was near the truth. She was lovely, especially so when she smiled and her eyes sparkled with humor.

  “Come now,” she admonished, her shoulders shaking with mirth. “You needn’t play the part when we’re alone, though I confess I shouldn’t mind a whit when our guests are listening.”

  Guy sighed theatrically. “You wound me. How am I to court a wife? I’ve some success at everything else in skirts, but I swear I am at a loss here as to how I should go about it.”

  “First of all,” she said with a pretty moue and a tap on his chest with the rose. “Do not tell her of your other victories. It puts one off to think of her husband rollicking about with dollymops and shop girls.”

  He nodded. “Properly noted. And?”

  “And second, do not desist from pretty words when she instructs you to do so. It is merely modesty rearing its ugly head that makes her protest.” She grinned. “And third, you might diplomatically hint to our company that we should like to be alone.”

  He rolled his eyes. “May I put that first? That’s actually why I sought you out in the kitchen.”

  “You wouldn’t mind asking them to go?” she said, frowning.

  “Is that a joke? I have the urge to abandon you here and run full-speed to find them.” He noticed the worry lines crease the creamy smoothness of her forehead. “I promise to be tactful. I understand that she is Beau’s grandmother.”

  “You are so generous. But please don’t go just yet,” she said, lacing her hand through his. Her voice had grown soft, its faint rasp caressing his ears like plush velvet. “This is so pleasant, the first time I have felt safe and calm in a while now.”

  She felt safe with him. Guy felt his chest puff out and his mouth tug into a satisfied smile. He knew she was playing him like a fiddle, but he didn’t care. She was right about one thing. This walk was the most pleasant thing he had done in ages, next to kissing her.

  Anticipating a repeat of that in the very near future—like tonight if he could arrange it—made the sun shine that much brighter. It warmed his insides like fine brandy.

  Lily was his wife, he thought, admiring her upturned smile. She seemed to like him and he liked her. By her own admission, she had truly loved her first husband, so there was little danger of putting her emotions at risk. He and Jonathan Bradshaw were as different as roses and ragweed and Lily could never fall in love with the likes of him. That was fine since he had no intention
of loving her back.

  There was no reason at all why they should not enjoy one another.

  Perhaps he had done her an injustice by agreeing to this marriage, but he could not see how at the moment. He would make her and her son happy for as long as he possibly could and then release them immediately if he felt his faculties dimming.

  Certainly a man would realize when that began to happen.

  Following Guy’s order for them to leave, Clive and Bernadette had departed in high dudgeon at four in the afternoon for the dowager house, a mile down the lane. They were not returning to London as Lily had hoped, but at least they were out from underfoot for the moment and she felt much more at ease.

  Guy had solved the problem and all was right with her world, Lily thought happily as she came down to dinner. They were to dine early, at eight, so that Beau could join them.

  “Ah, here she is, loveliest woman in Kent,” Guy exclaimed, standing to greet her as she entered the dining room.

  “No, in the world!” Beau argued, scrambling to his feet, as well, giving her a little bow of the head immediately after he saw Guy do it.

  “Thank you, gentlemen. I am flattered.” She allowed Guy to seat her, then looked to her son. “Good evening, Beau. What has occupied you this afternoon?”

  He grinned. “I played war with the small soldiers Duquesne fetched from his home. He has more, he says.” The boy sent Guy an adoring look as he wriggled back into his chair.

  Guy had ridden over to Edgefield soon after Clive and his mother departed. “How did you find your father?” she asked him.

  “Having a good day, actually. We walked about the grounds for half an hour until he tired. He seemed much better than I have seen him in a long while.”

  “Is your father ill?” Beau asked, tiny worry lines creasing the space between his deep blue eyes. “He isn’t going to die, is he?”

  “No, I don’t think so, not anytime soon.” Guy placed his napkin just so as the maid began serving. “He is ill, but I believe he’s improving.”

  “That’s marvelous!” Lily said. “We should all go over to visit. He must get lonely.”

  Guy did not answer, instead casting her a frown.

  Beau began to chatter away about his pony and how well he got on with the mounts she and Guy had appropriated from his friend Hammersley’s stables.

  Lily could have hugged her son for carrying the conversation right through the dinner of roast duck and steamed vegetables, even if he did plague Guy mercilessly with questions. That established the fact that her husband possessed infinite patience with children and also eliminated the need for her to come up with proper topics of discussion that must include a seven-year-old.

  She had begun to feel nervous about retiring for the night. He would join her in her bed. Neither of them had suggested they do anything else about the sleeping arrangements. Both knew that consummating the marriage was necessary.

  The day she had married Jonathan, she had felt these same qualms. Fortunately her first husband had proved extremely gentle and the soul of brevity when it came to the marital duty.

  After a while, she had quite enjoyed sleeping next to Jonathan after he accomplished the necessary deed to produce a child. Even the deed itself was merely awkward, not really onerous. She had so missed being held.

  Duquesne was no Jonathan, however. He seemed a man of much greater passion. Thinking of his kisses nearly caused her to swoon. Even now she could feel herself blushing over her dessert.

  She glanced up from her custard dish and found him regarding her with a quizzical look.

  Beau, who was carrying on some discourse about the proper training of horses, suddenly asked, “How do you break horses to ride? Have you ever done that, sir?”

  Guy held her gaze. “First of all, you never break one. That destroys the spirit and it shall be nothing more than a slave. What pleasure is that? You establish trust. Once your new friend realizes that you intend no harm and expect the same consideration, then you begin to create a bond that will serve the both of you well. It is not a question of taking what you want, but an exchange of favors. You provide what is needed and so, receive what you would like.”

  Beau laughed. “That is too easy, I think. Have you ever done it yourself or did you learn that from a book?”

  Guy smiled. “Personal experience soon affirmed what I learned by reading. The concept works well for me, even when dealing with non-equine friends.” He raised an eyebrow and held her gaze as he took the last bite of his blancmange.

  “Hmm. I shall try it one day and see if you are right,” Beau announced, stifling a yawn with one hand.

  Lily watched Guy turn his attention to her son. “I daresay you will, Bradshaw, and I wish you luck. For now, I think a good night’s sleep would do you good. You are about to fall forward into your pudding.”

  Beau laughed and pushed out of his chair. “May I be excused?”

  “Of course you may, sir,” Lily said fondly with a nod of approval for his manners. She held out her arms as he approached her for a good-night kiss. “I shall be up to hear your prayers in a little while.”

  After Beau released her, he marched to Guy’s place and held out his hand. “Good night, Duquesne.”

  Guy shook it. “Good night, Bradshaw. See you in the stables at nine?”

  Beau shot her a questioning look. He knew he had lessons first. She remained silent.

  With a small shrug, he turned back to Guy. “Perhaps we ought to make it ten, sir. I should be finished with business by then.”

  “Business before pleasure, I always say. Good man.” He cuffed Beau lightly on the arm. “Ten it is.”

  Beau beamed as he took his leave of them. She had seldom seen him as animated as he had been since Guy had come home with her. Even when Jonathan was alive, the boy had seemed more reserved and too old for his years. She only hoped Guy would know how to handle Beau when their wills clashed, as they surely would.

  Everything seemed to be going entirely too well. That alone made her wary. Judging by her past, that was always the time when disaster struck.

  Somehow, though, she felt better able to deal with whatever came about. Perhaps knowing that Guy would protect them caused her to feel that way, but she liked to think she was more capable of managing for herself than she had once been.

  Reflecting on her actions the previous night gave her hope she wasn’t as incompetent as some women might have been in that sort of circumstance.

  Tonight might tell the tale. She would need courage.

  Guy went to the library and poured himself a brandy as he waited for Lily to settle her son for the night. He wondered whether he would have been welcome to hear those prayers she insisted on. Would the boy include him? Probably. The little scamp had taken to him right off. Guy hadn’t expected to like a child that much, at least not right away.

  Perhaps he had paternal instincts, after all.

  He sipped the liquor, feeling its warmth flow through him as he gently rocked the snifter, enjoying the feel of the fine crystal in his hand.

  He looked around at the fine selection of leather-bound volumes that graced the dark oak shelves from floor to ceiling. Bradshaw had possessed excellent taste and had made fortunate choices in his life.

  Guy felt almost unworthy to fall instant heir to the collection. He raised the glass in a silent toast. I will hold it intact for your son. And your wife.

  “My wife,” he corrected, saying the words out loud. He drank again, more deeply, feeling the burn. Tonight he would make their marriage real, here in this house where she had lived with the man she loved.

  A sudden spurt of jealousy made Guy want to dash the glass into the fireplace, but he resisted the urge. Jonathan had been good to Lily. He had fathered a fine son. And from all observations, had managed his estate extremely well. Guy could not help but respect the man for all that. But the envy was there, not for the possessions, but for the love of a woman and child.

  “Pour me one of th
ose?” Lily asked quietly.

  Guy did so, handing it to her after she took a seat on one of the leather armchairs that flanked the smoldering fire in the hearth. She had changed from her evening dress of blue faille to a brown velvet dressing gown edged with off-white lace. Her golden curls curved about her face like errant commas.

  “My, don’t you look charming,” he said, polishing off the brandy and taking a seat in the opposite chair. He crossed an ankle over his knee and brushed nonexistent lint off his boot. “Prayers all said?”

  She sighed, feathering the long, slender fingers of one hand through her hair. “He almost fell asleep on his knees.”

  “Did you speak with him about why you were gone?”

  A dark look shadowed her eyes. “No, only that I had to leave unexpectedly and had no time to say goodbye. If I told him the truth, it would frighten him too much.”

  “He needs to know there is possibly danger afoot, Lily. Children worry more about what they imagine is happening than what actually is. If they are informed, they feel better prepared to deal with it.”

  She assessed him with those wide blue eyes. “So speaks a child who was not kept informed?”

  He nodded. “But you are his mother and you know him best. I don’t like to presume.”

  To Guy’s dismay, she began to cry. Not loudly or inelegantly, but a simple shedding of tears that streamed down her face and beaded on the velvet of her gown. “I…trust you with him,” she whispered, her voice quavering.

  Guy found himself kneeling at her feet, brushing her tears away with his fingertips. “Ah, Lily, please don’t cry.” He leaned in to kiss her cheek.

  She cradled his face in her hands and placed her lips to his, a tender gesture unlike anything ever bestowed upon him. He could taste the trust in her soft, vulnerable mouth. Her sweet, mellow scent that enveloped him was one of welcome. But it was the sigh that did it. Drew him nearer so that he embraced her fully and drank from the well of closeness that she offered.

  Want took on new meaning for him then. He desired her far more than any woman he had ever held, but the feeling encompassed much more than that. Guy truly wanted all of her, mind, body and heart. And he had no right. No right at all to have her love him. It would only mean heartbreak for her later if she did. Losing a beloved husband to death was bad enough. Losing a man she loved in the same manner he had lost his father would be devastating to a kind heart such as Lily’s.