My Fair Mistress (51 page)

He hesitated, his gaze meeting hers for a long moment before he nodded and resumed his seat.

“All right.”

A thick silence fell between them, broken only by the lilting melody of birdsong issuing from the trees beyond the windows.

She swallowed against a sudden tightness in her throat.

Now that I’ve persuaded him to remain, I can think of nothing to say. Stupid when there is so much to tell him, so much to ask, so much between us that needs repairing, if it can indeed be repaired.

Her eyebrows furrowed.

Rafe frowned as well, his dark brows dipping low over his eyes.

“Julianna, I—”

“Rafe, did y—”

They spoke at the same moment, their words crossing over one another in a clumsy rush. She laughed and he smiled, her pulse galloping with sudden, awkward nerves.

“My pardon. What were you going to say?” he asked.

“No, you first. I can wait.”

“Are you certain?”

She nodded, rubbing her fingertips over the blanket, the wool both scratchy and soft.

His smile faded, a solemn expression taking its place. “Very well, I…Julianna, I wanted to tell you that I am sorry.”

Her gaze flew up. Of all the things she’d been expecting to hear, it hadn’t been that.

“For what?”

“For so many things, but most recently for St. George. I never meant to put you through that ordeal. You must have been terrified and…God, did he hurt you? Did he do anything that you haven’t wanted to tell me? You can, you know.”

Reaching out, he covered her right hand where it lay next to her hip. Gently, he stroked her wrist and the strip of white cloth that was neatly bandaged around her abraded skin.

“There is nothing to tell,” she said, “not really. I was frightened, of course, and worried for the baby, but this”—she moved her wrist slightly—“this was my own doing. Remember, I told you about it already. It’s fine. I’m fine.”

He pinned her with a searching look. “Nothing else. He didn’t harm you in any other way?”

“No. I think he was far more obsessed with confronting you than in paying much attention to me. But he’s dead now and it’s over. Let it go, Rafe. Let it finally be done.”

Rafe bent his head and gently squeezed her hand inside his own, her flesh warm and smooth and alive.
Blessedly alive,
he thought.

Lifting her hand, he pressed his lips against her palm and breathed in her honeyed sweetness. She was right. It was time to bury the past and move on, to live for his future, for
their
future, assuming she still wanted to share hers with him. He’d come so close to losing her. He would do anything not to lose her now.

Dropping another kiss onto her palm, he released her hand. “I should have told you.”

“Told me what?”

“About him. About St. George and my fears for you. Arrogantly, I thought I could handle the situation, take precautions to keep you safe without worrying you with my suspicions. That’s why I had Hannibal following you and a set of runners as well.”

Her eyes widened in clear surprise. “You had runners watching me? I never saw them.”

“You weren’t supposed to see them. I wouldn’t have ordered Hannibal to keep you under such a tight watch either, had it not been for St. George’s return to Town. I realize now what a colossal mistake that was. Instead of expecting you to meekly do as you were told, I should have been honest and warned you about my suspicions. If I had, you might not have felt the need to run, to expose yourself to danger.”

“I didn’t run. Well, I did, but not in the way you mean. I just needed a little time, a bit of breathing room in which to think.”

“Room you didn’t feel capable of taking in your own home because of me. I drove you away, Julianna. I forced you into his path.”

She gave a gentle shake of her head. “I would likely have gone no matter what you told me. I possess an obstinate nature and would have done as I chose despite your warnings. I am to blame for my abduction as much as you.”

“Perhaps, but I gave you reason. You obviously felt the need to leave, formulating a simple but extremely effective plan for eluding Hannibal and the other guards, and all to be free of me.” He gazed into the dark beauty of her eyes, emotion settling like a lump of granite inside his chest.

He didn’t want to ask the next question, but he knew he must. Steeling himself, he forced the words past his lips. “Are you so unhappy, so miserable, that you cannot bear to live with me any longer? I know I…refused to let you go when you asked at Christmas. Is it…still your desire to stay with your sister?”

He glanced away, unable to bear seeing the answer in her eyes.

“If I said yes, would you take the baby from me?” she asked in a strangely quiet voice.

A harsh shudder ripped through him, pain spreading as if she’d taken up a dagger and thrust it into his chest. With difficulty, he drew a breath. “No. A baby should be with his mother. I would never keep our child from you.”

Julianna exhaled, tension easing from her shoulders as an unsteady rush of warmth and optimism flowed through her veins. “And I would never keep him from his father. Did you mean it, Rafe?”

He cast her a puzzled look. “Mean what?”

Her pulse thundered.
What if he says no?
she worried.
What if I’m wrong and he doesn’t care, after all? What if he really does break my heart this time?

But she had to know, one way or the other. She couldn’t go on living her life, their life, the way it had been before.

“When I was delivering Cam.” Twining her fingers together, she stared down at her lap. “You said you loved me. Is that how you truly feel or did you say it in the moment, because you were excited about the baby?”

He leaned forward. “Is that what you think?” His tone was rough with emotion. “Julianna, how can you not know?”

“Know what?” Her heart pounded harder.

Raising her chin with his finger, he lifted her face until her gaze met his. “That I love you to distraction, and have loved you for such a very long time.”

“You do? But you never said—”

“I should have done, another lamentable omission on my part. My only excuse is that at first I didn’t know, or at least if I did, I refused to admit the truth even to myself. I didn’t want to be in love, you see. And then, well, I wasn’t sure how you felt in return. I know you only married me because of the baby, because I forced you to take vows you did not wish to make—”

“I married you because I loved you,” she interrupted. “I only refused your offer because you’d made it clear you didn’t want me. You had, if you’ll recall, cast me aside.”

Dropping down to sit beside her on the bed, he drew her into his arms. “I didn’t want to end our affair. The only reason I did is because of St. George. After I found out about his interest in you and your sister, I knew I could not go on seeing you. You would have been in danger had he discovered you were my mistress. I lost Pamela; I wasn’t about to take that same risk with you, so I lied about my feelings to drive you away.”

“Well, you did an excellent job. I thought I was nothing but a burden to you.”

“No, never that, never ever that.”

“But why didn’t you tell me? Why did you let me believe you only wanted the baby and not me?”

“Did I? I thought spending half a million pounds on a title so you could be Lady Pendragon showed some measure of affection.”

“But you did that for Cam and for your legacy.”

He shook his head. “No, love. I did that for you. Believe me, I’ve had ample opportunity over the years to acquire a title for myself had I wished, but such trappings were never important to me. Once we were to be wed, though, I knew I could not see you disgraced, could not bear to watch you shunned by your friends and family, not when I had the means to effect a far different outcome. It was my gift to you, though apparently rather clumsily done.”

She slid her arms around his back. “Oh, Rafe, I had no idea. And so much money. You shouldn’t have done it. My family would have stuck by me, and my true friends as well.”

“Perhaps, but I didn’t want to put you through the pain.”

“And here I assumed you didn’t love me, only the baby.”

“I love our son,” he said, brushing a kiss over her cheek. “But I love you more. I have to confess, though, that the baby gave me a good excuse to do what I’d wanted to do all along. To take you as my own, to claim you as my wife, so I could love you as I pleased. It nearly killed me when you kicked me out of our bed.”

“It killed me too. Oh, we’ve been such fools!”

“We have, haven’t we?” He skimmed his lips across her jaw. “When St. George abducted you, I feared I’d lost the chance to tell you how much you mean to me. But I’ll never make that mistake again. I love you, Julianna, now and forever.”

In the next breath, his mouth claimed hers, kissing her with a fervor that made her senses grow giddy with pleasure and her spirits soar. Holding him closer, she poured all her love, all her life, into their embrace, knowing she never wanted to be separated from him again.

He was starting to ease her against the pillows to deepen their kiss even further, when she suddenly remembered something.

Turning her head, she broke away. “What about that woman?” she demanded, her breath coming out in a pant.

“What woman?”

A scowl creased her forehead. “Your new mistress. The beautiful blond.”

“What blond? I don’t know who you’re talking about, I…oh, you mean Yvette Beaulieu.”

“Is that her name?
Yvette.
” Drawing in a deep breath, she prepared herself to forgive him, no matter what.

“Yes, and she is
not
my mistress.”

Hope flared in her breast but she tamped it down, still not quite willing to believe him. “Then who is she?”

“The widow of an old friend, who is in need of a bit of cash. I hired her to paint your portrait—yours and Cam’s.”

“What!”

“It was going to be a surprise, but given your suspicious nature, I don’t think I should make any further attempt to keep it a secret.”

“You’re sure? She’s awfully pretty.”

He chuckled. “Quite sure. Madame Beaulieu may be attractive but she’ll never compare to you, my love. You are the only mistress I’ve had since the day we met, and you’re the only one I’ll want for as long as I live.”

A smile stole over her lips, growing wider and wider. “Well, in that case, you may kiss me again.”

With an exuberant laugh, that’s precisely what he did.

Epilogue

West Riding, England
May 1813

S
EE THAT THESE are included in today’s post,” Rafe said, handing a small stack of correspondence to Martin.

The butler bowed and accepted the missives. “Of course, my lord; I’ll send a boy with them now.”

“Thank you, Martin. Have you seen my wife? Is she still in the garden?”

“I believe so. Her ladyship took master Campbell outside about half an hour ago and they were still there last I noticed.”

Rafe nodded, then turned, walking down the long hallway that led to the rear of the house. Anticipation bubbled in his blood, effervescent as champagne, his every step seemingly lighter than the next. He shook his head at his eagerness, unable to contain the grin that spread over his mouth at the thought of joining his wife and son. Foolish since he’d seen Julianna at nuncheon only three hours earlier and spent time with Cam that morning as well.

He was glad he’d let Julianna talk him into leaving London and spending the spring and summer at their country estate. The rolling Yorkshire dales were magnificently green as they stretched out as far as the eye could see.

Opening a side door that led to the gardens, he stepped through, his shoes crunching on the pebbled path. As he walked, he drew the air deep into his lungs, enjoying the scent of clean earth and burgeoning nature. He’d been here many times, but could not recall a more glorious May, the sky a vivid symphony of blue, trees unfurling their leaves like young girls preening for a ball, while flowers bloomed in explosions of fragrance and color.

Despite the love I felt for my mother, I’ve never fully appreciated all this until now,
he realized.
Until Julianna. She makes everything she touches brighter, most especially me.

Warmth hummed in his blood, his smile widening as he came upon her and Cam. The pair of them were settled atop a blanket beneath the wide, sheltering limbs of a giant oak, a tree he’d called his friend as a boy.

As Cam grows larger and stronger, I will show him how to climb that tree, how to sit in its sturdy branches and dream the way I used to do. But since the boy is scarcely two months old,
Rafe reminded himself,
I suppose I will have to exercise a bit of patience.

Julianna looked up and saw him, a happy smile parting her lips, her velvety eyes alight with pleasure. “Have you finished your work?”

Nestled on a separate baby quilt at her hip, their son lifted a small fist and waved it as if to say hello.

Rafe restrained the impulse to waggle his fingers back in reply.

Dropping down beside Julianna, he leaned over and pressed a kiss to her mouth. “Not all of it, no, but I couldn’t stay inside a moment longer, not with this glorious day and the two of you waiting for me outside.”