Taste of Desire (38 page)

Could she believe him
? Her mind ricocheted like a bee trapped in a jar. She tried to remember everything he had ever said. Had he ever knowingly misled her? Well, he did not claim to have never misled her, he claimed he had never spoken a complete falsehood.

She took his hands in her own
. “What about when I first came here, all those wonderful stories that you spun trying to convince me to marry you. Do you claim that none of those were dishonest?”

“Ahh, that occasion I remember well and
, yes, I do claim that I spoke no lies on that occasion. I spoke with great care. I was overcome with your beauty, despite my lapse of memory. I was being pressured by my family to marry, and Peter had no desire for the title. My best friends had both recently married and I looked upon their bliss with some jealousy. And as for my keeping my word as a gentleman to help you – I may lie, but I never betray my word.” Tristan brought her hands to his lips. He pressed soft kisses against them. “Do not doubt me.”

Marguerite fought against the power of those sweet kisses
. She needed to remember everything he had said that first night. “You said you were a spy. Surely that was a lie. I have seen no evidence of cloaks or daggers, and I cannot believe you needed me to gain entrance anywhere. You are a marquess.”

Tristan let her hands rest upon her knees, although he covered them with his own
. “I was afraid that you would hit upon that one. I hoped by supplying all the others you would not notice the omission.”

Her heart stopped
. “Then you did lie.”

He looked up, staring straight into her eyes
. “No, I did not lie. I have never thought of myself as a spy. I have on occasion denied the word. But, in truth it is as good a description of my activities as any other.” He turned away. “Can you think of any other excuse for my spending so much time with Moreland?”

“You are a spy.
” This time it was not a question. With a horrible certainty Marguerite accepted it as the truth. “You are a spy. You really married me for your own purposes. You only pretended to care about helping me.”

“We are back at the beginning again, but I have just told you a truth about me that only a few know in order to prove my veracity to you
. Do not doubt me now.”

His hands still rested upon hers
. Marguerite moved to pull them back, but he held tight. “I do not understand how it can all be true.”

“But it is
. I saw how we could help each other and I grasped the opportunity. I was not to know how it would turn out.”

Did he mean when he found out she was not pregnant or now, when she found out that she was
? “I am still unsure how marriage helped you with your – work. I do not see that I helped in anyway. You say you needed entrance, but none would have denied you.”

“True.
” He finally released her hands and sat back on his haunches, bringing their gazes level. “But, it would have become the cause for speculation and question if I, with my reputation, suddenly began appearing at musicales. After I married you nobody questioned my presence. If there was any gossip it was about our marriage not about my presence.”

“Oh.” It was a very small sound
. “Then all those time you came with me it was not because you wanted to?”

“I have always wanted to be with you
. I know it sounds unbelievable now, but it is also true. I may have had other motivations, true, but they were as much an excuse as they were reality. I enjoyed your company and found myself seeking it even on those occasions when I had no reason to accompany you.”

Did she dare believe him
? It all sounded so reasonable, but she knew it was anything but. It was in fact ridiculous. Her husband was a spy who had married her to make his mother mad and because he wanted invitations to tea. What sort of story was that?

One that was so unbelievable it had to be true.

But could she believe him about his feelings? Had he truly desired her company? She knew he had desired her, even when racked with self-doubt she did not doubt that, but did he value her beyond her body. Did he actually like to be with her? Did he care for her? She hesitated to even ask herself the question.

She reached forward and took his hands
. She pulled them back to her lap. “Assuming that I do accept all you say, accept that despite the calculation of your actions that you held my interests at heart, where does that put us now?”

She stared down at his hands
. She turned them over and began to examine the lines of his palms. She had heard that a whole life’s story could be read in the lines of the hands. She traced the patterns with her eyes, memorizing every length and cross.

He did not speak
. She scrutinized his hands for a moment longer, and then finally dragged her gaze up to his face. His eyes were closed and he looked as if he was praying.

His voice was quiet when he finally spoke, “You ask the difficult questions today
. I wish we could go back to yesterday morning when you asked that question. I would answer differently now – express the jubilation you deserved. But, I did not.”

“No, you did not.
” Her hand trembled as she reached out and lay it on his cheek.

“So, we can only move on from here
. I am attempting to forgive my mother for you. I will raise our child with kindness – and I will love it, boy or girl. I will attempt to be the father that my father was to me.”

She stroked her thumb over his cheek
. “That is a good first step. But, I need more.” She hesitated a moment. “I need you to listen to your mother.”

“What?”

“I have sat here listening to you speak and I have realized my great fear. I do believe that you do not lie to me now and I think I even believe you will not lie to me in the future. But, I realize I do not trust you to make a judgment and not listen. You decided that I should marry you and never truly listened to my reasons why I did not wish to. You decided I should go to the country. You decided that it was in my best interest that we not share a bed and I do believe that if I had not forced your hand we would still not touch more than fingertips. On none of the occasions did you decide to discuss the matter with me.”

She watched as his lips grew tight and his eyes had trouble meeting hers.

She continued on, “You know I speak the truth. I see it in your expression. You do not always listen, particularly to women. You make a decision and you will not be swayed from it. I cannot live like that. If you ever judge me I want to know I have the right to appeal. You have ignored your mother four years without ever listening to what she has to say and yet, at the slightest indication that you are ready to reconcile, she agrees readily. I do not think I would be so flexible.”

“And I thought I was choosing a placid wife.
” He smiled, but it was bittersweet. “I know you would then refuse to forgive me.”

“You are quite correct in that.
” Marguerite tilted her chin up. “I need evidence that you can change. I need you to listen to your mother and her explanations. I do understand how much you have done for me and what it means. I know it was not easy.”

Tristan reached on and replicating her gesture stroked his thumb down her cheek
. “Do you understand what it means? I think if you do we can move forward. I will do this for you. I would probably do whatever you asked of me. I have become a fool around you, yours to command. You see I have discovered that –“

There was a tap on the door and after a discreet moment Winters entered.

“My lord, forgive my intrusion, but Lady Harburton is at the door. She demands to speak with you.”

“Demands?” Tristan turned from Marguerite and stood
. “Lady Harburton demands?”

“A
h, Yes, my lord,” Winters replied looking most uncomfortable.

Before either man could reply the door behind Winters burst fully open and Lady
Harburton barged in.

             
Chapter Nineteen

“What did you do to my son? Where has he gone? Did he tell you everything? He must have told you everything. Why have you stolen my bulbs? My fortune. How dare you? You black-hearted scoundrel.” Lady Harburton did not take a breath. “How could you do such a thing to me? What did I ever do to you?”

She sat down on the couch with a decided plop
. She turned to Winters who still stood in the doorway. “Fetch me some tea. And some cakes. I am quite in need of a restorative.”

Winters glanced at Tristan, who nodded his agreement
. Winters slipped back out the door.

Tristan strode over to stand in front of Lady
Harburton. “Perhaps you would like to tell me why you have disturbed my wife and myself in this manner?”

“As if you didn’t know
. My Simon is gone. We were to announce his betrothal before the end of the month and now he is gone. I have worked so hard to gain him his own comfortable little security. I know a mother doesn’t normally worry about such a thing with her son, but Harburton is a bit of a miser. I know it doesn’t show, but he never wants to spend on more than his horses and stocking his ponds and streams. If I ask for more than ten new dresses a season he shouts that I am a spendthrift. Can you imagine me a spendthrift?” She fanned herself with her delicate lace handkerchief.

Tristan started to reply, but Marguerite stilled him with a glance
. He might be a spy and a rather good conversationalist, but he clearly had no understanding of women. She rose from her chair and went to sit beside Minerva on the couch. “Nobody could ever think such a thing of you. You do so many good works. I am sure you don’t spend a penny more than is needed.”

“Quite right, not a penny more
. I strive so hard for others, just look at my long correspondence with so many of our finest young men during the war, and even some of our not so finest. I inquired of everybody I knew to increase my lists, spent hours writing letters, and I was so soon forgotten. Harburton didn’t even express any sympathy when they quit writing me after the peace.”

“How horrible
. But at least you had your Simon, such a fine young man.” Marguerite tried to look sincere.

Tristan looked like he had swallowed a mouse, but he kept quiet.

“Yes, and, well, you would say that. Simon spoke so often of you, not always as properly as a mother would wish, but with great feeling. I think he would have proposed at your sister’s if I hadn’t explained how unsuitable an arrangement it was and hurried him away. He just didn’t understand these things. He needs to marry the daughter of a duke. It would be the only thing suitable for a man such as he. Do not you agree?” She let the handkerchief fall to her lap and looked at them both through watery eyes.

“I am afraid I must disagree.
” Tristan walked to stand next to Marguerite. He stroked her hair. “I found her quite suitable.”

“Well of course you would say so,” Lady
Harburton said. “We all know why you married her. I never did believe all those stories of a love match. There is only one reason for such a hurried match.” She turned to Marguerite. “I daresay you’ll be showing before long.”

Marguerite could not believe she was being so insulted in her own house
. She sputtered and stood, stepping around her husband and paced to the opposite corner of the room, then she spun to face Lady Harburton. “How dare you even suggest that . . .” she ground to halt. The problem was it was almost true if not in the manner that Lady Harburton suspected.

“Humpf, didn’t think you had anything to say to that one.
” Lady Harburton had gone from tears to smug satisfaction in seconds, leaving Marguerite to wonder at the truth of either sentiment.

Marguerite watched the smile grow across Lady
Harburton’s florid features. This was too much. “I do not know how you dare say such a thing to me.” That was true. It took real gumption to come to somebody’s home and insult them to their face.

“Well, I don’t know why I won’t say it
. Particularly after what my Simon told me. I didn’t like the look of you right from the start. But, then when Simon told me you tried to seduce him in your neighbor’s garden. You lowered your bodice trying to get him to ask for you. What type of woman would try such a thing? It’s lucky that my Simon was wise to your ways.”

Marguerite almost fainted at the words
. She knew Simon had been at Clark’s soiree. She even remembered the countless glasses of lemonade he had brought her, but never, not until this moment and she had any inkling of the rest. She knew she’d gone out in the garden with someone, known it must have been someone she had considered kissing, but Simon. She did not even like it now when he held her to dance. She shuddered.

She moved to the chair and sat
. Memories winked at the edge of her mind. She had been so hot, so dizzy, and none of it had mattered. She had wanted the magic, felt that she was drifting closer to it. She swallowed the bile rising in her throat. God, what had she done? She closed her eyes trying to remember. She had not minded when Simon put his hand on her arm, in fact she had never minded before that night. He was fun, simply fun. She always laughed when he was about. But, that night. She remembered his hands touching. She did not want them to touch. Then blackness. That was all there was before she awoke with Clark’s hands on her gown, her breasts bare. She wanted to retch. None of it made sense.