Elizabeth gasped as he lifted her into his arms, turned and began to stride across the drawing room.
"Where… where are you taking me?"
"Upstairs, my lady. To my bed. From this day forward you will spend every night there. I am still lord here. Perhaps it is time I began to act like it again."
Every night with Charles. Every night in his bed, making love with him. More children, perhaps, the sort of life she had once dreamed of. It was all there—finally within her reach. If only she had the courage to grasp it.
Charles shoved open the door to the master's suite, carried her into his bedchamber and straight to his big tester bed. "If you are here and I am here, you will see that it is you that I cleave to. You I want and no other." He caught her chin, lifted it, looked deeply into her eyes. "I was always afraid of love. I had seen what it had done to my father, to other men of my acquaintance. But there comes a time, Beth, when one must put his fears aside and grasp the thing he holds most dear. For me it is you, my darling." And then he kissed her.
Elizabeth's heart squeezed. Melted. It was time, she knew, to put aside her own fears. No matter the outcome, love was worth the risk.
22
« ^ »
Caleb strode down the long marble corridor toward the marquess's study. Lamplight flickered on the walls, casting his length in shadow. Supper was over and Lee had retired upstairs to her room, but the marquess had asked to see him and he was on his way there now.
For the past three days, Caleb had remained with Lee at Kinleigh. The marquess had spent each day with her and the bond between them seemed to have deepened to a surprising degree. It was amazing how much they had in common: Kinleigh's love of music and Lee's gifted playing of the harp; the marquess's stable of beautiful, blooded horses and Lee's love of racing; they both loved children and animals; even their laughter at times sounded the same.
With Bronson in London and Aaron away at boarding school, the past was the only obstacle between them. Though Caleb had missed having Lee in his bed, he was happy for her. He had taken something precious when he had taken her innocence. In finding her father, he had tried to give something back.
Still, it was time he returned to London. He had promised to visit his own father at Selhurst and the days were slipping away. He had to return and though he wouldn't take Lee to Selhurst, wouldn't subject her to his father's scrutiny, he wanted her with him as much as possible these last few precious days.
Caleb knocked on the door of the study, turned the silver handle at the sound of the marquess's voice bidding him enter, and walked into the room.
"Caleb. Thank you for coming." Like the rest of the house, it was a pleasant room, paneled in walnut and lined with books, in a bit more disarray, perhaps, with several days' newspapers strewn over a rosewood table and a stack of ledgers perched on a corner of the desk. The marquess walked past it, over to the sideboard. "Brandy?"
"Thank you. I believe I will." There was something in the older man's manner that warned him he might need it. Caleb accepted the crystal snifter, then followed the marquess to a deep red leather sofa and chairs grouped around the hearth.
A small fire crackled in the grate. A summer storm had blown in, cooling the early July night, and outside the window, a layer of clouds crept over the valley.
"First, Caleb, I want to thank you. In bringing my daughter here, you have given me the greatest gift any man has ever bestowed upon me."
Caleb smiled. "I'm glad things have worked out as they have."
"Actually, things have worked out even better than you know." He leaned back in his chair. "You see, Lee has agreed to stay with me here at Kinleigh."
He was more than a little surprised—at the marquess for offering and Lee for accepting. "Won't that create a problem for you? Considering that Lee is a Durant?"
"It might. Even if it does, it will be worth it. But in truth, I hope to head off any problems that might arise before they occur. You see, I plan to adopt Lee as my daughter."
Caleb's brandy glass paused halfway to his lips.
"As soon as matters can be legally arranged," the marquess went on, "Lee Durant will become Lee Montague. There is no way to deny that she was born out of wedlock, but even should her mother's name be discovered, it will scarcely matter, once I have claimed her as my own flesh and blood."
It just might work, Caleb thought. Lee looked little like the Vermillion he had first met, the sophisticated courtesan who was the darling of Parklands. She dressed more simply now and no longer wore face paint. In truth, her entire demeanor had changed. The marquess's interest went far beyond what he had imagined, but it just might work.
"I'm a powerful man, Caleb. Even should people speculate, they would never dare offend her."
Caleb swirled the brandy in his glass. "That's extremely generous, Lord Kinleigh."
"Generous? It is nothing less than she deserves. Had I been more of a man all those years ago and married her mother as I wished, she would already carry my name and with it her legitimate birthright."
It was true, Caleb thought. And if Kinleigh claimed her, her future would be completely secure.
"As for you, Captain, and your relationship with my daughter—we both know you will soon be leaving the country."
"That's right, sir. In just a few more days." Caleb set his brandy glass down on the side table and sat up a little straighter. "As I said, I would gladly marry—"
"I'm afraid I've changed my mind in that regard." The marquess's eyes fixed on Caleb's face. "When you came to me, you asked me to see to my daughter's welfare. As her father, that is exactly what I intend to do. You're an officer in His Majesty's Army. You'll be leaving for Spain and there is no way to know when you will return." Or if you will return, were the words that went unsaid. "Unless there are… consequences to your association with Lee, I don't believe a marriage between the two of you would be in either of your best interests."
He was right. Most certainly he was. So why did he feel this crushing weight on his chest?
"I know how much my daughter cares for you. In the brief time she has been here, she has certainly spoken your name often enough. But as you say, I want her to be happy. Both of us do. I intend to make that happen."
The marquess rose from his chair and Caleb stood up as well. He felt cold though the room was becoming overly warm. His heart was beating and yet it felt as if the blood had slowed to a crawl through his veins.
"You said at supper the two of you are planning to return to London on the morrow."
"That's correct. Even if Lee has decided to stay, she'll want to pick up her things and inform her aunt of her plans before returning on a permanent basis."
"I'm sure that is her plan. However, I am going to call on your honor, Caleb. As the gentleman I know you are, I am asking that you do the honorable thing where my daughter is concerned. I want you to travel at first light. I want you to leave Lee at Kinleigh. I don't want her hurt any more than she already has been."
He understood. In a way, he had expected this to happen. Lee was an unmarried woman and he was her lover. If she were his daughter, he would probably shoot the man who had stolen her innocence. But God, he didn't want to leave her. Not like this.
"I suppose it would be in Lee's best interest," he said, hoping the marquess didn't notice the rusty note in his voice.
"We both know it is. I'll make your farewells for you after you've gone. I'll tell her the truth—that I thought it would be less painful for you both." And lessen the chances of his fathering a child. The marquess didn't have to speak the words.