The Letter (17 page)

“Michael, if Jamie is your son, then he has been cheated out of an earldom.”

She had tears swimming in her eyes. He reached over and took her hand. “I know, and there’s not a damned thing I can do about it.”

The butler entered. “My lord, you asked that I tell you when your carriage returned.”

He had sent his conveyance back for the tutor and maid, and was glad to see it had returned before the dinner hour. Michael let go of his mother’s hand and rose. “Have a footman show Mr. Denton to his room, Phelps, and have the maid wait a moment.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Mother, Diana kept Jamie with her, and as they haven’t emerged from her chamber, I fear if we let her she will stay there the remainder of the night. It is true she is embarrassed to face you, but she only has three day dresses and I think it would help give her a little confidence if she were properly dressed for dinner. You are about her size. Would you take her maid and see if the two of you can come up with something nice for her to wear?”

His mother’s eyes lit up. “Leave it to me, son. Besides, I still haven’t met my grandbaby.”

“I don’t think he would like being called a baby, and as far as he is concerned, you are his great aunt.” She laughed and sailed out of the room. Michael sighed. The meddling was beginning.

****

Michael reined in his horse. Thunder wasn’t Reckless, but he was prime horseflesh. He would have nothing less in his stables. What was missing was Reckless’ obstinacy. Michael enjoyed the challenge of maintaining control of his personal mount.

At the moment, however, he appreciated the calm stillness of Thunder as they stood on the hill overlooking Draven Park. In the garden below, Diana and his mother sat on a garden bench watching Jamie move toy soldiers around on the gravel path. His mother said something and Diana laughed.

After plowing through Diana’s resistance to accepting her company, not to mention her clothes, his mother and Diana now seemed to be bosom friends. They acted like schoolgirls, giggling and looking for mischief. For the past two days, they had teased him to no end, and though he pretended to be offended, he loved every minute of it.

Then there was Jamie. It had been love at first sight for him and his great aunt. Although, Lady Suzanne had promptly dismissed the great part, along with the formal address of Lady Daventry. “Jamie,
mon beau garçon,
I am simply not old enough to be a great anything. I am Aunt Suzanne to you and Lady Suzanne to your mother.”

Michael recalled the ensuing conversation. Jamie had crunched his eyebrows together and stared at her in puzzlement. “I don’t think that was Latin.”

“It was French,” Michael explained. “She just called you her beautiful boy. You should tell Aunt Suzanne that ladies are beautiful, not boys.” He had pulled Jamie between his legs and put his face next the lad’s. “We, on the other hand, are handsome fellows.”

His mother had smiled sadly and blinked away her tears, but he had been paying more attention to Diana. She had looked from his face to Jamie’s, and then away. What had he seen in her eyes before they shuttered? Panic, he thought. And, why should that be?

With a nudge to Thunder’s flanks, they started down the hill. The day had been spent riding the estate and talking to his tenants. They were pleased to see their lord, and he vowed to spend more time here. His steward did a good job and was trustworthy, but Michael realized he had not given Draven Park the proper attention. His resolve to take a greater interest fit in with his plan.

Turning Thunder over to a groom, he made his way to the garden, disappointed to see that Diana and Jamie were no longer there.

“Mother,” he said and kissed her cheek. “What have you done with your playmates?”

“Why, I boiled them in oil and then had them for luncheon.”

“Indeed? I always suspected you were an odd sort, you being French. Fortunately, as I’m only half, I am perfectly normal.” She patted the bench seat and he sat next to her. “You are in rare form. You seem to be enjoying their company.”

“Oh, Michael, I am. The boy is such a joy, and though Diana breaks my heart sometimes, she is as charming as I remember.”

“Where are they?”

“Jamie wanted to explore your old nursery some more. He is fascinated with your collection of toys. It is almost as if he has never seen such a bounty.”

“I have the impression he was never allowed to have any.”

“
Mon Dieu.
Do not say so. Every child should have toys.”

“Yet, I don’t think Leo allowed it.” He turned toward her. “Have you been able to learn anything from Diana?”

She wrapped her arm around his and rested her head on his shoulder. “No, I am sorry to say. If I broach the subject, she becomes evasive. I did learn from Jamie his birthday, and the date makes it a possibility.”

“What is it?”

“August tenth.”

He did a quick calculation and then let out a breath. “Nine months to the day.”

“You shouldn’t have anticipated your wedding night, but I can’t regret that you did, else there would be no Jamie.”

“If he is truly my son.”

“I think he is.”

“As do I.”

****

Even though it was still early evening, a full moon was rising above the trees. Diana walked alongside Michael, her awareness of him driving her to distraction. Somehow she had to put an end to this developing attraction. He had always called to her in some elemental way, in ways she hadn’t understood until the night he had claimed her and they had conceived Jamie. Then came years of abuse, days and days she had thought of nothing but survival, and she had forgotten. But he had done a fine job of reminding her the night before he left for London.

She’d got what she wanted; a memory to cherish, a night of being loved, gentle hands touching her skin. She wasn’t foolish enough to expect more. No matter what he’d said about boys not being beautiful, she begged to differ. She stole a glance at him. He was so magnificently beautiful. He would never be happy with the woman she was now. She knew it, but God, she wished it weren’t so.

“Are you warm enough?” he asked.

A touch of his hand on her arm caused her to shiver.

“You’re chilled.” He removed his coat and put it around her shoulders.

She wasn’t chilled, but couldn’t explain it was him that sent shivers over her skin. She felt his heat, still trapped on the inside of the coat, smelled his scent. Without thought, she lifted her shoulder and pressed her nose to the material, deeply inhaling.

He inclined his head and gave her an intent look. Mercy, he had caught her smelling him. Embarrassed, heat crept up her neck. She prayed her cheeks weren’t as red as they felt.

A mysterious smile curved his lips, but thankfully, he didn’t comment. He remained quiet for a few minutes as they continued on, intentionally, she suspected, giving her time to compose herself.

“I would like to get an early start in the morning,” he said, finally breaking the silence. “We will have three carriages to load and if I know Mother, and I do, she will need a little push or we will still be here at luncheon.”

“I’ll do what I can. Jamie won’t be a problem. He would sleep in the carriage tonight if you let him, so anxious is he to see London.”

“We will ride together, of course. Mother can ride in the second one with Jamie, and Mr. Denton and Fanny in the last.”

It amazed her that he had three carriages at his disposal at The Park, never mind how many he might have in Town. Then it struck her what he had said. She would be alone with him for two days.

“No, I’ll ride with Jamie, Lady Suzanne and you can share a carriage.”

“Mother has already requested that Jamie be placed with her. She says she enjoys his company more than mine. Can’t imagine why she would think such, however. I consider myself an entertaining chap.”

He walked on, talking nonsense about this and that, not giving her an opening to protest the carriage arrangements. It would be useless to do so, however, as his mind was obviously made up.

“I have been remiss in not telling you sooner how lovely you look tonight.”

She peeked up at him, the pleasure of the compliment warming her. “If I am presentable, it is because of your mother. She is a force of nature.” Diana was still reeling from all the gowns piled on her bed Fanny was even now wrapping in tissue and packing in trunks. “I shouldn’t have allowed her to give me so many.”

He chuckled. “Mother has more gowns than she can wear in her lifetime. It makes her happy to fuss over you.”

Fuss was an understatement. Diana removed her hand from his arm and stopped walking. When he had asked her to take a stroll after dinner, she had almost declined. Being alone with him wasn’t a good idea. She had trouble keeping her wits about her when she was near him.

Lady Suzanne’s sly questions about Jamie’s birth hadn’t escaped her notice, and Diana didn’t think she would probe for answers without Michael’s approval. Was that why he’d asked her to walk out with him? Was he leading up to asking about Jamie? She turned to go back to the house.

He moved in front of her, stopping her. His brow lifted and a laugh escaped her at how easily such an arrogant gesture came to him. They stared at each other, and even in the dying light, she could see his midnight blue eyes turn to black.
Silly, silly heart, stop your fluttering.

The brow moved higher and for some reason it struck her as funny, although she feared there was nothing humorous and it was nerves making an appearance.

“Are you laughing at me?” he asked, his voice low and silky.

She shook her head. “No, of course not.”

Up the brow went. Surely, the thing was at its height limit. Her lips trembled, and she pressed them together, but she was past controlling her emotions. She slapped a hand over her mouth.

“Dare I ask what I have done to amuse you so?”

“It’s nothing, truly,” she gasped.

“It is assuredly something, and you will tell me.” The twitch of his lips belied the serious tone of his question.

She shook her head.

He took a step toward her.

She moved back.

His mouth curled into a slow, sensuous smile, and his eyes glittered. His gaze was hungry, that of a predatory beast.

Her heart pounded in her chest, though not from fear. Another step back.

He eased a foot forward.

She backed into a tree.

“I have you now,” the beast said and circled her.

With her hands behind her, she dug her fingers into the bark. As he slowly prowled around her, she craned her neck, trying to follow his movements. He stopped in front of her and braced his hands on the tree, caging her in.

“Myana,” he whispered and lowered his head.

His lips brushed over the right corner of her mouth and then the left. A soft touch to each of her eyes, a return to her mouth. His tongue stroked along the seam of her lips and she parted them. Slipping inside, he explored her, tasted her, he was going to devour her and she would let him. Her legs grew weak and somehow he knew. He pressed against her, pinning her to the tree. His arousal pulsed against her belly. Letting go of her grip on the bark, she wound her arms around his neck, sliding her fingers through his hair.

A hum sounded from his throat, then a low growl. His mouth left hers, moving to her ear where he swirled his tongue around the shell, then sucked on the lobe, sending shivers down her spine. She was so lost in the sensations he caused that at first she didn’t notice his hand slide inside the silk of her gown. A finger slid over puckered skin, paused there. The sensuous haze that had made her forget instantly cleared.

Oh, God. What was she doing? “Stop!”

She pushed on his chest, but he didn’t budge. She grabbed his wrist and jerked his hand away from her breast. He lifted his head and stared at her, his eyes probing hers as if trying to see into her mind.

“I can’t do this.” She slipped under his arm and moved away.

“Give me a minute.” He stayed braced against the tree, breathing hard, his head lowered.

She backed away.

“What did I feel, Diana? What did he do to you?”

She couldn’t speak of it. While he still had his back to her, she fled.

Chapter Fourteen

Michael feigned sleep, but watched Diana from under his lashes. Their second day in the carriage, and still, she ignored him. Yesterday, her nose had been buried in a book, one she had seldom turned the pages of. Last night at the inn, she had put herself between his mother and Jamie at dinner, never once looking at him.

Today, a different book held her interest, or so she pretended. But she was restless, fidgeting on her seat, sneaking peeks at him. He estimated they had a little over two hours before arriving in London and he wanted to talk to her about the days to come.

Also, he wanted an explanation for what he had felt under his fingertip when he’d caressed her breast. The skin had been furrowed and it had seemed as if a chunk of flesh was missing. It was one reason he had remained quiet, fearing the question would escape.

He would find out in due time, but only when he was sure she trusted him enough to show him. It was finally dawning on him that she was ashamed of her body, thought she was undesirable. Somehow, if his plan was to succeed, he had to find a way to put that mistaken belief to rest.

How could he make her understand that to him, she was as arousing today as she had been the first time he touched her? But what the bloody hell had Leo done to her? He bared his teeth at the thought of his cousin’s hands on her flesh.

“What?”

Michael jerked his eyes open to see her looking at him in alarm. He pushed away the ever-present rage that came when thinking of her life with his cousin. A yawn and a stretch, and he lazily pushed up in his seat. “Sorry, did you say something?”

“You sounded as if you were snarling. Why?”

He made a show of stretching the cricks out of his neck. “I must have been dreaming of when I was a wolf.”

She stared at him as if he had lost his mind. “I beg your pardon?”