Only Scandal Will Do (30 page)

Chapter 27

Kat surfaced from sleep, stretched and winced. Every muscle was sore, like someone had beaten her. She didn’t want to move, just lay here and enjoy the closeness of her husband. Snuggled against his deliciously warm body beside her, she reveled in the protective arm that encircled her. She had indeed gone through Hell to get to Heaven with this man, but now she was certain. He cared for her. Close to her ear, his breathing was regular and even. Still asleep. As she shifted to turn onto her back, his grip tightened. She opened her eyes and met his concerned brown gaze.

“Thirsty.” The word emerged from her dry mouth as a croak.

“Here, sweetheart.” He maneuvered himself to the side of the bed then positioned her with her back to the headboard. When she was settled, he grasped a big pottery mug from the bedside table filled to the brim with some peculiar yellow liquid. Carefully, he held it to her mouth and she wrinkled her nose at the sharp smell. But she was too thirsty to care much and put her lips to the thick rim.

“Don’t take too much at once, my lady. We want to make sure this stays down.”

The pungent taste matched the smell. She made a face as she took a cautious sip. The liquid was laced with honey, though that did little to disguise the unusual flavor. “What is this?” She stared at the mug as she waited to see the effects of the strange brew.

“Ginger tea. Larraby assures me it is the sovereign remedy for nausea from well nigh every sailor on board.” He peered at her expectantly. “How do you feel?”

“Still thirsty.” She sipped again, ignoring the odd taste and enjoying the moisture gliding down her throat like silk. And it seemed to be staying down. “But better,” she reassured him.

Dark circles beneath his eyes attested to his vigil over her last night. His handsome face was haggard, and the thin purple scars on his cheek stood out in harsh contrast to his pale skin. Stubble she had never seen before lay in a thick blond haze on his cheeks. Rumpled, creased beyond repair, his fine linen shirt sported stains upon it as though... Kat flicked her gaze downward, embarrassed to think what they must be–to find herself even more chagrined at the sight of his bare legs. Thank God his shirt covered the rest of him.

Her cheeks flamed, and Duncan laughed. “I thought comfort a virtue prudent to indulge in last night, my dear. Hence my attire. I assure you I was the perfect gentleman.”

She allowed herself a small smile. “Even I never thought you so depraved, as to take advantage of a woman as ill as I, Duncan.” His sharp intake of breath when she mentioned his name made her smile wider. She bent her head to the mug and savored the tea for a moment. “I meant what I said last night, Duncan. You may call me Katarina now. Or Kat, if you prefer.”

He stared, looking perplexed. “I beg your pardon, madam, but what have you done with my wife? You cannot be the same woman who swore she would never be called anything other than Lady Dalbury.”

One more sip, then she lay on the pillows. She drew in a slow breath and touched his scarred cheek. No recoil. Releasing her breath, she caressed the raised streaks with her thumb. “No, I am not that same woman. But you are not the man you were either.”

He covered her hand with his, pressed it to his cheek, then placed a kiss on her palm. “You now believe I am not the same as when we met?”

She laced her fingers through his, unable to keep from smiling. “If you had truly been that man, Duncan, you would have abandoned me long ago for some other woman. Neither would you have cared about my refusal on our wedding night. I should have realized, but I was too angry.”

“About losing to me?”

“That was not the problem.” She forced herself to look into his eyes. “I had just been given evidence you were an unrepentant rake and had no sort of tender feelings for me.” The shocked look on his face summoned guilt for her actions that night. Ashamed of what she’d said, how she’d hurt him, she couldn’t bear to face him and lowered her gaze. “Jack had received information that made me believe you wanted me only because no one else would marry you and give you an heir.” Would that he had kept it to himself.

Duncan shook his head and squeezed her hand. “Nothing could have been farther from the truth, sweetheart. Since the night at Braeton’s ball, I could think of no one but you. I tried to show you that.”

She raised her head and gave him a small, rueful smile. “You made it extremely difficult for me to dislike you.”

His grin flashed. “I have been more agreeable in the past two months than in my entire life, I believe.” He chuckled. “Just ask Juliet or Tommy. I’ve rarely cared whether people liked me or not.” His eyes grew darker, warmer. “Until I met you, my dear. You led me a merry chase until I feared never to catch you.” Frown lines appeared on his brow. “But why now, my...Katarina?” The name came with difficulty, but was said with satisfaction.

His hesitation tugged at her heart and she felt a rush of unexpected intimacy at the sound of her name on his lips. “From the night we met, Duncan, I have been afraid to trust you. Your words then were so convincing, your manner so kind and considerate that I was completely taken in. Once you made that outrageous proposition, and I knew you had duped me, I felt more betrayed than ever before in my life. The seduction was so effortless, so uncaring.” She glanced away as tears threatened. “I was ashamed that I responded to it, to you. And I knew I could never believe anything you said, because it wouldn’t be true at all.”

“Oh, Katarina.”

She couldn’t look at him, didn’t know how to go on. Then she was scooped into his arms, crushed against his chest. He stroked down her back, soothing her as though she were a child. “Please believe me, love,” he whispered against her hair. “Believe me when I say I love you, Katarina.”

She shivered and a little sigh escaped at the words she’d never dared to trust. “I do believe you, Duncan.”

He eased her down onto the pillows, gaze intent on her face. “But why? Why trust me now, love? Why not two weeks ago, or a month ago?” He traced the line of her jaw with his thumb, a delicious feather-light touch that burned, even as it sent chills throughout her.

“Because I know you better now than I did a month, or even two weeks ago. And…” Her heart filled with wonder every time she thought of what he’d done for her. Like a knight in shining armor rescuing his lady fair. “And because you stopped the ship for me.”

Duncan blinked. “Because I stopped the ship?”

His dumbfounded look made her want to giggle. She wanted to laugh out loud as her newfound joy sent her spirits soaring. “You didn’t have to do it. I didn’t expect you to be able to do it. Jack didn’t even try when we crossed from Virginia, though I begged him to.” The need to giggle fled, replaced by a rush of tender feeling that she finally could admit was love. “You could have left me to suffer alone in this cabin. Many men would have. A callous rake surely would have. But you took care of me, Duncan.” She stretched a hand across the coverlet and grasped his. “You had no expectation from a woman so ill. Yet you stayed. And you stopped the ship.” She squeezed his hand. His sure grip in return was comforting. “I’m still amazed you did it.”

His eyes were dark pools she would willingly drown in. “I could not bear to see you so miserable, love. How could I refuse you when you asked me by name?” Quiet passion suffused his voice. She’d had no idea speaking his name would affect him so. “And after all, it is my ship.”

“But you would have done it even if the ship had not been yours.”

Face flushed in embarrassment, he nodded. “I would do anything for you.”

Content simply to lie there and revel in the sight of him so close, she struggled against the heaviness of her eyelids.

“You need sleep, my love.”

Roused by the endearment, she willed her eyes to remain open, but exhaustion overtook her as she sank back into the pillows.

“But, Katarina.” His mild reproof floated just above her head. With a loving touch, he tucked the blankets snugly around her shoulders. “Why did you not tell me you were plagued by seasickness when we began to make plans for our journey? And how on earth did you ever survive the crossing from Virginia?”

“It got better after the second week,” she mumbled, yawned then sank further under the covers.

“But why didn’t you tell me of this? We could have gone overland.”

“I was afraid...”

“Of what?”

“That you would cancel the trip. That I wouldn’t get to learn the disarm.” Silence. About to drift off, she sensed a presence and cracked open her eyelids.

His face, inches away, filled her world with narrowed eyes and strained lips.

Sleep fled at the sight of his stern countenance and Kat suddenly wished he were not so close.

“I ought to beat you,” he said.

Kat flinched at the harsh words and tried to burrow further into the bed, but he restrained her with his hands and fixed her with a baleful look. “You jeopardized your health, worried Margery nearly to death, and drove me to almost shoot Captain Stratton because you wanted fencing lessons?”

Stunned by this declaration, Katarina ignored the question and his menacing tone. “What do you mean, you almost shot the captain?”

Eyelids now mere slits, he slid his gaze away, lessened his death grip on her shoulders and drew a long breath. “A misunderstanding about who is allowed to give orders on my ship.” He looked back at her and gave her a slight shake. “Do not change the subject, madam.”

“There were other reasons as well, Duncan. I didn’t want you to have to give up the voyage.” She returned his stare coolly, though her heart beat a ragged tattoo.

“Why would that be a hardship for me?”

“Because you love to sail. Juliet told me so.” She lowered her gaze, unsure how much she should reveal. “I didn’t want to be the one to deprive you of that pleasure.” She had been afraid he would go without her.

More silence. Reluctantly, she looked into his face. His stare bore into her, pinning her like a bug to a paper, and she had no idea what he might do or say next. Then, with no warning, his brooding look disappeared, replaced instantly with one of intense longing that made her shiver. He slid his fingers down her arms and gathered her hands into his. “You have deprived me of no pleasure, Katarina, save of your presence when you were ill. I would have you safe and well, that is all.” He raised her hands to his lips and kissed each finger, soft nibbles that drowned her in sensation. “Captain Stratton will be setting a course for England this afternoon on my orders.”

The fiery sensations that tingled all the way up her arms encouraged her belief that this voyage to Italy would prove to be– Wait. “What do you mean he’ll be setting a course for England? We are not continuing on to Italy?”

“Most assuredly not.” His stern expression returned, giving her no hope of changing his mind. “Once we return to London we can plan another journey perhaps, one that takes us through the Belgian countryside.” He cocked his head. “You are not, by any chance, made ill by the motion of a carriage, are you? If so, I fear you may never leave England again.”

He sounded in jest, but did he tease her, or was he still angry in earnest? The fact that she couldn’t tell seemed a bad sign, but in any case, she would not be cowed by him. “You know I can ride on horseback or in a carriage perfectly well.”

“Good. We hope to make landfall by evening.”

She cringed at his words. “I hope your strange brew helps, Duncan, but I fear I will be just as poor company going back as I was coming out.” Her lips trembled. “Will you stay with me?”

Sternness fled his countenance, replaced by contrite concern. “Sweetheart! Of course I will.” He leaned over and brushed her forehead with his lips. “But I think you will fare better on this journey. First, you need to finish your tea, my dear.” He snared the half-full mug from the table. “Larraby will bring another shortly before we get underway. Fortunately, the captain’s medicine chest contained a vial of laudanum drops.” He raised her head so she could sip. “I will give you a dose in your next cup of tea and you will sleep deeply until we make land. I told Stratton to put in at the closest port available, which he makes out to be the westernmost coast of Cornwall.” He smiled wryly. “It may take us a month to journey back to London, but at least you will be on dry land.”

Kat perked up at his explanation. “You think the drug will keep me from getting ill?”

His eyes warmed. “I promise you, my sweet, you will go to sleep in my arms here in this bed and awaken in my arms in our carriage on the way to London. You will have no recollection of the sea or anything other than me.”

She closed her eyes and nodded, still anxious despite her husband’s reassurances. Another graze of his lips across hers, and the bed lifted. Her eyes flew open just in time to see a flash of his backside as he hastily donned breeches. “Where are you going, Duncan?”

He turned and gave her a rakish grin. “I am going to send Margery to attend to your needs, then I intend hurry along both Larraby and Captain Stratton. I cannot wait to have you in my arms again, all alone with me in this bed.”

“Duncan!” Katarina’s cheeks heated at his implication. She reached for the rest of her tea. “Much good it will do you, my dear, if I am unconscious the whole way to land.”