“Hell.”
~ * ~
Exhaustion tugged at Nathan. As he sat down to dine formally with his wife, he thanked the stars that he had servants lining the walls. He suffered no false modesty over his looks. He was handsome and appealed to the ladies, and men with similar inclinations, but he had seriously misjudged his own worth.
Fighting off his wife’s attentions all through the long afternoon had tried his patience. She was determined to have him. He should have kept the children close. With their demanding ways, he would never have noticed how often Sybil played with the laced edge of her gown, or the way she fluttered her lashes.
He wanted Henry, not Sybil.
Having his thoughts turned toward pleasure so often reminded him of the hours he’d gone without. Henry didn’t tease—he took. Nathan’s desires were his to mould, his to release. He was too far gone to return to his old life.
Nathan picked up his cup of claret and took a deep swallow. Sybil hurried to do the same and her smile suggested she hoped he’d keep drinking. Did she think he would be more manageable that way?
Nathan didn’t oblige her. He drank sparingly, ate well and when the last course was cleared away, he escorted her into the drawing room.
“I say, are you not feeling well, my dear?” he asked. “I noticed you ate less than your usual sparrow-like portions.”
“I am taking a reducing regime. My appetite will return in due time.” Sybil sat and arrayed herself on the chaise lounge. Nathan wasn’t fooled—he’d noticed her grimace as roast pork landed on her plate. She’d cut up the strong scented meat, but pushed it around. Not one bite had crossed her lips.
“You do dabble in nonsense. A reducing regime is hardly necessary.”
And couldn’t be good for a woman who was breeding
. During her pregnancies with James, Pierce and Cecily, Nathan had pressured her to eat. The vain fool had been terrified to lose her figure.
“Nathan, darling, it is so wonderful to hear your concern. Do come sit by me.” Sybil patted the deep blue cushion next to where she sat, but he shook his head and sat opposite in a wing back chair. He studied her and she had the grace to fidget. Then to his considerable surprise she stood, walked across the room and settled on his lap. “Must you be so distant?”
“Must you be so familiar? Get off me.”
Sybil stumbled away from the irritation in his voice. “You are such a beast.”
“I am many things, my dear, but a fool is not one of them. You’re breeding.”
Sybil stared at him a moment then rushed to the open window and half flung herself out. She heaved up the contents of her stomach and lay limply where she fell.
Unimpressed, Nathan stood and poured a glass of water for her. As he approached his wife, he held out the glass. He might not love her anymore but he didn’t hate her. “Sip it slowly.” Hate could come later. If she did anything to publicly embarrass him or the children.
Sybil slid to the floor, but took the glass from his fingers and tasted a dainty sip. Perspiration beaded her skin and Nathan pulled out a handkerchief and patted her brow. Sybil leaned toward him but he yanked his hand away. He would not be fooled into doing her bidding. She should have taken more care.
“You must hate me,” she whispered.
“What I feel is no concern of yours. You made your bed long ago, woman. Your diary proved interesting reading, by the way. Do tell me how Lewes came to have it again?”
A flurry of tears fell over her cheeks in precise waves. Another of her tricks—Sybil could cry on cue. “I want only you.”
“Well, you can’t have me and certainly not when another man’s bastard grows fat in your belly.”
His harsh words made her flinch, a real emotion, he thought. “Don’t say that.”
“Why not? It is the truth. If you’re going to tumble every servant that we employ the least you could do is have the man withdraw before he finishes.”
“I do not bed
every
servant.”
Nathan heard the distinction she made. “So, not all my employees have cuckolded me. Thank you for that?”
Sybil blushed.
Nathan laughed. They had both been swayed by a man in their employ. While his wife could lose her reputation; Nathan could lose his life.
“He loves me,” she whispered softly.
Nathan stopped laughing immediately. He glanced at Sybil and believed her. She wasn’t saying it to hurt him. She used no tricks to mold her words. Nathan stood and stalked the room, his pulse thundering in his veins. Having Sybil declare the love offered by another man should be cause for distress, but it wasn’t. He was thinking about Henry again. About the bond of respect and admiration they shared.
“You should leave, Sybil.”
“No, I cannot leave you. I promised to love and obey you.”
Sybil’s words pieced his thoughts and settled around his heart. “But I don’t love you. Not anymore.”
He loved Henry—his whole being throbbed with the need to tell his steward this very minute to see if his love was returned.
Sybil sobbed, a mixture of real and fake emotions filling the room. When she lifted her head to stare at him, Nathan felt nothing but peace. “The
Rye
estate is in good repair and the countryside conveniently pretty. Go there for your confinement. Perhaps the scandal won’t follow you.”
“You mean to set me free?” Sybil gazed at him, disbelief plainly written across her pale face.
Nathan nodded.
His wife licked her lips, stood and shook out her skirts. “I shall need to take some servants with me.”
Nathan sat and looked at his properly composed wife, marveling that he had just arranged a separation with so little fuss. “Take as many as you need—but particularly take whoever fathered that child. If I learn who he is and he is still under this roof, I would have to make an example of him.”
Sybil swayed but hurried for the door. “Oh, and Sybil, make sure that you are gone before the children rise in the morning. I will use my own words to explain your sudden departure to the children.”
Nathan didn’t believe she would go near them, she never informed them of her sudden departures before, but he would be the one to break the news. She had shown them little love, about as much as she would a pretty bauble. The children deserved better. They needed someone who would play games with them and give them treats. A person who would tuck them in at night. They deserved Henry.
Nathan stayed in the drawing room brooding on his lover while above him footsteps hurried to and fro. After an hour had passed, the panicked activity lessened and Nathan made his way to his bedchamber.
He passed no one: all activity centered in the wing distant from his. Pleased beyond words to find that his valet had already retired, Nathan poured another drink and sank into an armchair.
He loved Henry.
With all his body and soul he yearned for the other man. Unsure of how to proceed, Nathan kept drinking until oblivion swallowed him.
~ * ~
Henry woke as little fingers pulled on his hair. He dragged himself upright and blinked into the dark bedchamber.
“Oh, good you’re awake.” Cecily climbed onto the bed and threw herself into his arms. The little girl’s warm embrace tightened.
“What are you doing wandering around?” He stroked down the length of loose blonde curls as unwelcome emotions tugged at him. He couldn’t care too much about her or either of the boys. They were not his to love.
“I had a bad dream.” Cecily burrowed against his chest and he unwisely pressed his lips to her hair. Try as he might, he couldn’t stop the flow of affection he had for this little scamp. She and her brothers deserved as much love as they could get. They got precious little from their mother.
“Well, you’re safe now, but you should be back in bed. Go on.”
Cecily shook her head. “Will you take me?”
Knowing he had to return her, Henry extracted himself from her grip and slid a robe over his nightshirt. Given Cecily’s past erratic nightly visitations, he’d taken to wearing the pesky nightshirt for propriety’s sake.
Cecily jumped into his arms and hung on tight. Halfway down the servant’s staircase, he heard voices from the lower floor. Curious, but burdened with Cecily, he shrugged off the thought to inquire and concentrated on the stairs.
James and Pierce were deeply asleep, and he tiptoed past them, lowered Cecily to her bed and tucked her in. The little girl pounced on her favorite doll and hugged it tightly. Henry settled on the bed and rubbed her back until her breathing evened out. When he was certain she slept, he weaved between the beds, straightening bedclothes around the boys. They didn’t stir so much as a muscle.
When the door was pulled closed behind his back, Henry noticed even more servants were about. Candlelight glowed up from the entrance hall and footmen carried luggage out into the night. Was Nate going somewhere?
Heart in his mouth, Henry watched Nate’s valet scurry through the front door and then the duchess, cloak pulled over her head, stepped out into the night. They were leaving. Henry’s heart settled like lead in his chest. How could Nate leave without a word?
Gripping the railing tight, Henry watched the front door close and stared at it long after. The butler blew out candles and retired while Henry listened to the carriage fade into the distance.
Why was he surprised? The duke could do as he wished and had likely slaked his lust, knowing Henry would be here when he returned. He’d even told him as much.
The house grew silent and still. But Henry’s heart pounded. Nate hadn’t even said goodbye to the children. Had he been so wrong about the man’s character?
Afraid that his distress could be observed should someone stumble along the hall, Henry pivoted and returned to his room. Once there, he buried his head in his hands and shook.
Chapter Thirteen
Nathan sat up on the lounge in surprise. Strong sunlight pierced the room, indicating the late hour. Hells teeth, what a night. Blinking, he looked around and registered the cold hearth, the curious silence, and the absence of his valet.
Usually the meticulous man woke him by eight, laid out clothing and arranged bathwater before escorting a footman in with his breakfast. Nathan liked the routine and relied upon it. Peering at the clock, he was surprised to find it was as late as a quarter past ten.
Damn foolish day to change the schedule. Today marked the first day of his freedom and he had many things to do. But first of all he needed a bath and a change of clothing. Then he wanted to see his children and explain their mother's departure.
Running explanations through his mind, Nathan stood and pulled the bell. He was also anxious to see Henry. After days of close contact, the separation of a few hours was agony. He missed waking next to him too, although Henry might not have enjoyed sleeping on the lounge as Nathan had done last night. Henry belonged in a bed, with luxury and every comfort he could offer.
Nathan stood and stretched. He was getting too old to fall asleep just anywhere. He wanted to wake up in his bed. He wanted Henry to rouse him with kisses, but he had to endure his valet’s stark efficiency, not the comfort of a lovers touch. They could only manage that at the cottage.
When the valet didn’t answer his summons promptly, he scowled at the door to his dressing closet. It was unlike the valet not to arrive promptly, so he stalked to the room and through to his valet's connecting bedchamber. The room was empty. Irritated anew, Nathan stalked back to the racks of clothes and considered his choices. His valet was neat to a fault. Country, evening,
London
splendor—he just had to choose the occasion.