The Letter (35 page)

A variety of tantalizing dishes were spread on the table; oysters in their shell on ice, shaved ham, cheeses, strawberries, crusty bread, and raspberry tarts.

He seated her and then poured them glasses of cold champagne. She sipped the chilled beverage and almost moaned in ecstasy. It had been eleven years since she’d had any, had forgotten how much she liked it.

“You are making love to your champagne, Diana. You are putting wicked thoughts in my head.”

She lifted her lashes, met his gaze. “I wasn’t.”

“Oh yes, you were. When you close your eyes and moan, what else am I to think? Don’t mistake me, I rather like it.”

“I did not moan.” Had she?

“Then it must have been Peggy.” He winked.

Why did a mere wink make her insides feel funny? She drank some more champagne, but kept her eyes open and made sure she didn’t make any noise.

He laughed and waved a hand at her. “Please, don’t let me spoil your enjoyment. Moan away.”

She took another sip and made an exaggerated sound. “Did that do anything for you?”

“Aside from wondering if I should fetch you a doctor, no.” He piled a plate with food and put it in front of her.

“Heavens, I can’t eat all this.” She took a bite of ham. It was delicious, and the bread was still warm and melted in her mouth.

“I had an unexpected caller this afternoon.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, Lady Hartwell.”

He put his fork down, a scowl on his face. “She has gone too far. I will put a stop to it.”

“No, it isn’t what you think.” She put her hand over his, and told him about the visit.

“There has always been something strange about the relationship between her and her uncle,” Michael said when she finished. “I know you mean well, but I want you to stay far away from that situation.”

And there it was, what he wanted with no discussion of her desires. Concerning Lady Hartwell, she pretty much agreed, but she wanted him to ask her opinion.

If Lady Hartwell turned to her in desperation, Diana wanted Michael to understand that she could not turn the woman away, and to support her decision.

“And if I don’t?” she asked.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Warning bells clanged in Michael’s head. His colossal desire to order her to have nothing to do with Serena for any bloody reason battled with the knowledge that if he did, she would walk out the door, never to return.

He pushed his plate away and stood. “Let’s move to the chairs by the fire. I think our time to talk has arrived, and I would prefer to be comfortable.” He turned his chair toward her, poured them wine and handed her one.

“Well?” she said.

“Well what?”

She narrowed her eyes. “Stop being obtuse. I want an answer.”

He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. She was asking him to be someone he wasn’t, yet he was asking the same from her. There had to be a compromise they both could live with.

“Perhaps it would be best if I left.”

He snapped his eyes open. “No, please don’t. Everything in me screams to protect you, to keep you and Jamie safe from harm however I must. Do I believe I know what is best for you?” He shrugged. “I can’t deny it. Yet, you cannot live with that, and I can’t bear the thought of losing you. If I do, you won’t be around for me to protect, so what have I gained? How do we solve this problem between us?”

She moved to the edge of her chair. “Something inside me rebels each time you give me an order even when I know you are right. I think if we had married when we were supposed to, this wouldn’t be a problem. I was young, you would have been my husband, and I was taught I should obey you. But then, Leo came along and I had no rights, was allowed no opinions, or the freedom to make a decision no matter how simple.

“Then you walked back into my life. You decided I would leave the cottage, that I would go to Wyburne, then London, and that I would attend the ball. Not once did you listen when I told you I didn’t want to. When I found something I did want to do, you refused me. In the end, you were right about everything, but that isn’t the point. You didn’t listen to me, Michael, didn’t once hear me.”

He leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees. “So even if I am right, I’m to stay quiet and allow you to make mistakes that might risk your safety?”

“No, and I hear the anger in your voice. If you get mad now, you will stop listening again. What I’m trying to tell you is this. Something changed in me after Leo. I can no longer be a meek lamb that follows you about waiting for instructions. I have a brain, and it is not a stupid one. Mostly. I say that because it was unwise of me to go to the school without Gordon and Rory.”

“I am pleased you at least realize that.”

“I do. If instead of ordering me not to go, you had discussed it with me, had realized how much it meant, and asked me not to go alone, I never would have.”

The truth rankled. Dare he hope if they discussed every bloody thing to death, she would see it his way?

“I won’t always agree with you, but when I don’t we will have to find ways to compromise,” she said.

Damn Leo to hell and back for taking away his chance to have an obedient wife.

Is that what you truly want?
If he thought about it, it sounded rather boring. His mother had said she and his father had fabulous fun making up after their disagreements. That was a benefit he could happily embrace.

“Why are you grinning? You make me nervous when you do that in the middle of a serious discussion.”

It would be a mistake to admit to where his mind had gone. “Sorry, I was recalling an argument Bunny had with Priscilla.”

She looked at him as if he had lost his mind. “Pardon?”

“Well, it does relate to what we are discussing. You see, the night Bunny wanted carrots and the others wanted bowls of milk, Priscilla called Bunny a selfish, peculiar-looking cat for thinking only of herself. The claws came out and the fur rose as they circled each other, each certain they were right. And then an amazing thing happened. Peggy wobbled between them and negotiated a compromise.”

He waited.

She bit down on her lower lip, drawing his eyes to it. Before the night was over, he was determined to nibble on that lip, along with other parts of her. He lifted his gaze to hers. She was dying to ask, but didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

So he waited some more.

“Damn you, Michael, for making me ask a question about imaginary cats and rabbits. What was the compromise?”

He glanced at Peggy. “I would swear I see a three-legged cat curled on my bed. If I am imagining her, then perhaps I am mad. If so, I blame you.”

She rolled her eyes.

“But back to your question. The answer was so simple I felt stupid for not thinking of it. Peggy said to put carrots in the bowls of milk. Wasn’t that brilliant?”

Her lips twitched. “I will admit it was clever.”

He moved to the stool at her feet and took her hand. “Listen. In all seriousness, I heard everything you said, and you are right. I was a donkey’s bottom, and I’m sorry. Truly. I will always have a need to take care of you and I can’t change that. What I can change is how I go about it. As Peggy proved to me, there is always a compromise to be found.”

“What if you sometimes forget? What if you get on your I AM RIGHT arrogant high horse and ride over me? I don’t want to feel like I have to leave you every time I feel like you are squashing me like a bug under your shoe.”

Was that how she felt? “We need a code word, something you can say that will remind me of the consequences if I don’t listen. I can’t bear to lose you, Diana, I can’t.”

“Donkey’s bottom.”

He gave a burst of laughter. “That would do it, for sure.” She placed her palm on his cheek and he leaned into it. He had her back, thank you, God.

“Please understand, I am not trying to squash you either. I don’t want you to fear expressing your opinion, even if it sometimes causes an argument.”

“
Plaisir fabuleux
.”

“Arguments are fabulous fun?”

“I have been informed by a reliable source they can be. Would you like me to show you? Please say yes.”

“I think it is time for you to see what you are getting.”

Now they were coming to her second problem. He was going to enjoy proving to her just how much he desired her. “I am getting you. Nothing else matters.”

“Leo said I was repulsive, and you would not want me.”

Bloody bastard.
“Listen. He lied to you, Myana. I love you. How many times and in how many languages do you need to hear me say it before you believe me? A hundred, a thousand, a million? In English, French, or Latin? Tell me what I must do and I will.”

“We shall see.” She stood and walked past him.

Michael turned on the stool. “What did he do to you? You need to tell me everything, and then we will forget he ever existed. First, I want to show you something. Come and sit for a minute.”

Her hand was on the buttons of her gown, but she seemed relieved for the delay. He went to the table and pulled a rose out of the vase. This idea had occurred to him when he had pricked his finger and he hoped she would believe his words. He returned to his chair and held up the flower, studying it. “Would you say this is beautiful?”

She turned a dull look on the rose. “Of course.”

“I don’t think you could find five people who would say it is not lovely. Interesting thing about a rose, however. It has thorns.” He twirled the flower in his hand and watched her from the corner of his eye.

She drew herself up and wrapped her arms around her legs. “I don’t understand what you are trying to say.”

“That surprises me as you are an intelligent woman, but very well, I will explain. When you look at a rose and see its beauty, do you see the thorns? I know I don’t.”

She shook her head.

“Didn’t think so.” He picked up the small knife he had placed on the table earlier and trimmed the thorns from the stem. “This is what I see when I look at you.” He held the up the rose. “Perfection, Diana. I see perfection.” He handed it to her.

She ran her finger down the smooth stem. “You haven’t seen my thorns, so how can I believe you? I have scars all over my body.” She lowered the rose to her lap and stared at it. “Leo said I am as ugly as a well-used whore.”

Through clenched teeth, he said, “And you will take the word of the sorriest excuse for a man I’ve ever known over mine? Answer me this. Would you have looked at me with disgust if I returned from a war with a scarred body?”

She jerked her face up. “No, never. But those would have been scars of honor inflicted upon you in battle.”

“Do you think your scars are not those of honor? Christ, you battled our enemy, alone mind you, for ten long years and each mark on your body is a testament to your courage. And consider, during that time, you somehow managed to raise a fine boy. Because of you, our son will not grow up to be anything like Leo. Show me your thorns, Myana.”

Her gaze returned to the rose. “Will you blow out the candles?”

“No.” He would give her almost anything, but she needed to do this so she could put her doubts behind her.

“I see.” Her voice trembled and her eyes closed.

A heartbreakingly visual shudder passed through her. Somehow, he managed to resist telling her she didn’t have to do it.

She dropped the rose on the table and stood. Turning to face him, she unbuttoned her gown, pulled it over her head and dropped it at her feet and then removed her chemise. The burning fire cast dancing shadows across her milk-white skin. Slowly exhaling the breath he had been holding, he let his gaze roam over her.

Her eyes were focused somewhere over his shoulder and he was relieved she wasn’t looking at his face. He was sure his fury was clearly visible. Scars obviously made by a knife covered both of her legs from her knees to her thighs and another was on her left side, but the worst was the mysterious ragged patch on the inside of her right breast.

He stood and circled her. Stopping behind her, he gathered her hair and draped it over her shoulder, and then touched the burn mark on her back. With extreme effort, he forced the rage from his voice.

“Tell me about this one.”

****

Diana shivered when his finger touched the scar. Not even when her husband had tied her naked to her bed had she felt this exposed and vulnerable. Afraid and hurting, yes, but she had never cared about Leo’s opinion of her.

His finger still rested on the burn mark and she tried to keep her voice steady. “His cigar, but as for the reason, he never needed one.” Her lips quivered and she pressed them together. She could do this and she could do it without crying.

His warm breath breezed across the skin of her back just before his lips pressed against the wound. The beat of her heart thundered in her ears and her knees were weak.

Merciful heavens, he was kissing the wound.

Suddenly, he stood in front of her. For the first time since she had removed her gown, she met his gaze and saw nothing but love in his eyes. He cradled her cheek and placed a kiss on her lips that was so full of tenderness it banished all her fears.

Before she could throw herself into his arms, he drew away and sliding his hand under her breast, he rubbed his thumb over the puckered skin, and then kissed the jagged scar.

“And this?”

“His teeth.”

His gaze jerked up to hers, and a muscle twitched in his jaw. “His teeth?”

She nodded. “There was a reason for that one. I hadn’t instructed the cook to have his favorite dinner awaiting him when he arrived home unexpectedly.”

A harsh sounding word she had never heard passed his lips. She had never seen such rage in anyone’s eyes before and thought it was a good thing Leo was already dead.

“Michael,” she whispered.

“Myana.” He dropped to his knees and kissed each mark on her legs. She put her hands on his shoulders to keep from folding into a ball at his feet.

“Michael,” she said softly. She waited for him to look up.

“
Je t’aime
.”