A Scandalous Marriage (30 page)

It was so clear. Joined together, they created a whole.

His heart pounded against her chest. He lifted her, going deeper and deeper. Filling, stretching her.

Then Leah felt it. Oh, yesterday had been fine— but tonight, a million sparkling crystals seemed to all shatter at once. She pressed his hips to her, wanting all of him.

Devon held her tight. And then, with one last deep thrust, she felt his release. She cried out, feeling the life force inside of her.

At last, they collapsed, their arms and legs wrapped around each other.

Their breathing echoed in the room. “Devon?”

“Yes.”

“I didn’t know it could be like that,” she said.

He smiled against her breast “I didn’t either.”

* * *

What followed was playful, teasing, and satisfying.

Her husband knew everything there was to know about what pleasured a woman. “You
are
everything they said about you,” she cooed before drifting off to sleep in his arms.

But he wasn’t done.

The next morning, she woke to find him inside her. Her back was against his chest, his hands covered her breasts. Her body ached in places she didn’t know existed, but when he moved, she was so sensitive that she came immediately and again and again.

By the time Devon had finished with her, Leah couldn’t lift a limb. He brought the baby to her. The two of them lay facing each other with Ben, nursing, between them.

Devon’s hands lightly touched her hair, her cheek, the curve of her jaw. In this way, they drifted off to sleep. For the next two days, they refused to leave the room. Everything they wanted was defined within those four walls. Other commitments, other promises could wait.

Devon had never realized that marriage could be so deeply satisfying. His wife had turned into a sensual creature. There was nothing she feared doing. She fascinated and delighted him.

But more important, making love with Leah was more fulfilling than it had been with other women.

His wife and child were his world. He questioned how other men, those who had never discovered the joy of love, found any measure of happiness in their lives. Leah made his heart sing.

They talked about everything and they talked about nothing. Time passed quickly. Their favorite topic was planning the perfect house. They designed it in their minds from the ground up and pretended to make love in every one of those imaginary rooms.

But the real world had to intrude sooner or later. The knocks on their bedroom door with messages from his grandfather or his business associates came with increasing frequency. Finally, his grandfather sent word complaining he was lonely. Venetia was still pouting over the social disaster of the ball and had locked herself in her room. No one knew where Rex was.

So, Leah and Devon had to leave their haven.

As they were dressing for dinner, Leah was reminded of something they hadn’t done. “Devon, we need to tell your grandfather about Ben.”

Devon, who had banished his fussy valet forever from the room the morning after the ball, pushed his foot into his boot and nodded. “You’re right.” He paused. “I just pray he takes it well.”

Together they went downstairs. Since they were late, about fifteen after the appointed dinner hour, they went directly to the dining room. The table was set and the servants were in place, but the room was empty.

“Do you know where Lord Kirkeby is?” Devon asked a footman.

“He hasn’t come from the library yet, my lord.”

“Well, let us go fetch him,” Devon said to Leah.

But in the library, they discovered his grandfather wasn’t alone. He sat in a leather chair in front of the hearth. His face was abnormally pale.

Rex stood by him, obviously pleased with himself. Venetia sat ramrod straight on the edge of another chair. Across from her was a woman Devon thought looked familiar but whose face he couldn’t place.

Leah recognized her immediately. “Mae? This is a surprise.” She turned to Devon. “You remember my maid, Mae.”

Mae had started shaking when Leah first entered the room. Almost desperately she frowned at Rex.

“Please, my lord, may I go now? I’ve told you everything I know.”

“Oh, no,” Rex said lightly. “You must repeat it all for my cousin’s benefit. He may already know the story, but I’m certain he will enjoy hearing it again.”

Leah stepped forward. “What is the matter, Mae?”

The woman crumpled into tears. “I’m sorry, Miss Leah, but I had to tell him about the baby. About how it wasn’t Lord Huxhold who was the father.”

Leah wished the floor would open beneath her and she could disappear—especially as Lord Kirkeby turned to Devon. “Is what she said true?” he asked heavily.

“That I am not Ben’s natural father? Yes,” Devon answered without compunction. “But he is
my
son.”

Lord Kirkeby nodded absently, physically shrinking in size from the disappointment. Leah took a worried step toward him, but he held up a hand, warding her off. “Not now. Not now,” he repeated.

“I had no other choice but to tell Lord Vainhope the truth,” Mae declared loudly. “Please believe me, Miss Leah. Your mum turned me out after you ran away. She said there was no money for my wages.

She wouldn’t give me a reference because she blamed me for your bolting. Remember my cousin? I went to live with her but she’s taken sick. Her landlord was going to throw both of us out into the street if I didn’t pay the rent. I needed the money. Needed it bad, I did.”

Venetia shook her head with a world-weary sigh, but her concern was not for the plight of the maid. “I am sorry, Father, that Devon has played this terrible hoax on you. I think we all owe a debt of gratitude to my son, who discovered the truth before it became public knowledge. There has been too much scandal already.”

Leah stood between her husband and his grandfather. Lord Kirkeby had aged ten years in a minute, and Devon was so still, so silent, that she feared another estrangement between them.

Angry, she confronted the maid. “I hope Lord Vainhope is paying you well, Mae. You deserve a fortune for this night’s work.”

“I’m sorry, Miss Leah. So sorry.” Tears rolled down the maid’s face.

Lord Kirkeby’s eyes burned with anger as he half rose from his chair and said, “Get that sniveling woman out of my sight! Now! This instant!”

Mae didn’t need to be told twice. She ran from the room. The door slammed shut behind her.

He sat back in his chair, his expression stricken.

Venetia tisked softly. “This is terrible, just terrible. What some people will do to cut others out of their rightful inheritance.”

Leah ached to box her ears.

“I must say I’m disappointed,” Rex agreed. “I thought we had a better relationship, coz. An understanding of sorts.”

Devon didn’t respond. Instead, he focused on his grandfather. Leah’s heart went out to him. There was nothing he could say now that would undo the damage.

Lord Kirkeby stared with unseeing eyes into the hearth. His hands, tightly gripping the arms of the chair, were his only show of emotion.

Venetia, unable to stand the silence lest it bode well for Devon, said, “This is very serious. An absolute flaunting of tradition and the value of the title. I wouldn’t be surprised if you aren’t
disinherited,
Huxhold.”

“Nonsense, Mother,” Rex answered. “Parliament would have to be petitioned for such a thing. Do we really want our name whispered in those halls?”

Leah would have wagered her soul they did.

The marquess jerked, finally hearing what was being said around him. Leah prayed for him to set Venetia and Rex in their places. Instead, he looked to her husband. “Why?”

“He’s my son,” Devon said simply.

“But is he your blood or is the curse of that fever still on you?”

Devon’s gaze shifted to Leah. Suddenly, she knew that whatever he claimed, she would maintain.

“It is still with me,” Devon answered.

It had taken courage for him to admit it. Her heart was going to break. She reached for his hand.

“You lied to me,” his grandfather accused.

“I let you believe what you wished to believe.”

Devon corrected. “You were ill. You needed a reason to live. There is a difference.”

“Not according to my code.” His words rang with finality. “You patronized me, Huxhold. I’m an old man, but I’m not senile. I no longer want you under my roof.”

Devon didn’t so much as flick an eyelash, but his hold on Leah’s hand tightened. “It will be as you wish.”

With a curt bow, he turned. Together, they left the room.

Outside the door, he started toward the stairs. Leah pulled back. “Devon, isn’t there something else you can do? Something that will soften his heart?”

“Like what? Say that I’m sorry and beg his forgiveness?” He shook his head. “I’m not sorry, Leah. Ben is mine as certainly as if he came from my own flesh. I will not apologize for being his father.”

“But these last few weeks… you and your grandfather enjoyed each other’s company.”

“No, my grandfather enjoyed what he thought I was.”

“Which was?”

“His definition of a
complete
man. His love comes with conditions, and I’m tired of lying to myself. I’m done with them all, Leah. Rex, Venetia, my grandfather,” he said with sudden bitterness. “I’ve spent years with their simmering jealousies. It’s a wonder they didn’t hire someone to pop me off.”

“They wouldn’t!”

“Would you have thought they would do this?” He frowned. “It’s all about money and prestige. I want nothing to do with the lot of them. Come, let us pack. I will put us up at Grillon’s.”

She followed, holding back her doubts. Such disappointment reaped bitter fruit. She had only to think of Julian to recognize that fact.

“Devon, it is just as well. Mae merely told the truth, something we should have done.”

“And if we had, Grandfather would probably be dead,” he threw over his shoulder as he charged up the steps.

She hurried to catch up with him. “Then tell
him
that.”

“You heard him, Leah. He has his code! He’s right back to being the man he was before. He’ll never change.”

Leah slowed her pace. This morning, she had been content. Now those she loved were being ripped apart, and she lacked the wisdom to make everything right again.

Up in their room, Devon had already rung for a maid to help with the packing. He sent a footman to Grillon’s Hotel to see about rooms. Leah went in to Ben. Her baby was asleep.

“We are leaving, Fiona,” she told the nanny. “You may wish to stay with the household or join our employ. It is your decision.”

She knew she’d caught the girl by surprise. Fiona’s aunt and sister worked for the marquess. She might not leave. “Why don’t you go belowstairs and think about it,” Leah suggested tactfully.

“Yes, my lady, thank you.” Fiona left.

Devon came to the doorway. “We will build our own house now. A modernized one like we discussed.”

“That’s true,” Leah said. “Of course, it rankles that Rex and Venetia will receive Montclef.”

“It never was a contest, Leah.”

She nodded absently. “But it was your birthright.”

“Perhaps my birthright was lost to me when my parents died. Whatever. I know I will not allow Ben to grow up thinking he is less than a whole man.”

“Is that how I made you feel?” came his grandfather’s voice from the bedroom doorway. Leah turned in surprise. The marquess had let himself into their room. No servants accompanied him.

“You know you did,” Devon said stiffly.

Lord Kirkeby walked with difficulty toward his grandson. “You have already started packing. Wills said you’ve ordered a coach.”

“Grandfather, you don’t have to ask me twice to leave. I am not a hanger-on.” He faced the marquess and said proudly, “I’m my own man.”

“Devon, I—” Lord Kirkeby started apologetically and then stopped. Leah realized that he couldn’t go on. It was impossible for him to admit he might have been wrong.

The set of Devon’s face hardened as he waited. Finally, he broke the silence. “It’s all right, Grandfather.

I understand you better than you believe I do. I’ve waited all my life for your approval. I can wait longer.

I just don’t want to be like you.”

Lord Kirkeby jerked as if Devon had hit him.

A maid arrived at that moment to help with the packing, a footman carrying two large trunks behind her.

She knocked on the still open door.

Without another word, Devon pushed past his grandfather to supervise the servants. The footman lost hold of one of the trunks and dropped it. It bounced on the floor, knocking over a table and crashing a glass vase. The sound of the accident startled Ben awake.

He cried. Leah picked him up, quietly calming him. Lord Kirkeby watched her, even as she changed Ben’s nappy.

Finally, she could take it no longer. The man was miserable. She glanced at her husband, who, in the other room, seemed completely occupied by the task at hand. And yet, she knew Devon would have regrets, too, if he parted in this manner.

“It isn’t easy, you know,” she said to the marquess.

“What isn’t?”

“Forgiving.”

The corners of his mouth dropped into a huge frown. His jaw tightened, just as Devon’s did whenever he was angry. “I probably could go on and ignore it if Arrie was alive. She would have helped me. Made it easier.” He was practically pouting.

“Well, now you have no one,” Leah answered.

“Oh, wait, I forgot, there is Rex and Venetia.” She lifted Ben to her shoulder. “They will take care of you because they want something of you.”

She started for the bedroom. “Wait,” Lord Kirkeby said, his voice weak and gravelly.

Leah turned.

“Huxhold shouldn’t have played me for a fool.”

“He didn’t,” she insisted. “He just wanted you to approve of him. He knew what you wished for more than anything else and he wanted to grant that wish and it worked. You are better.”