Eight Hunting Lyons (The Lyon’s Den Connected World)

Chapter Twelve

A s soon as the blackguard disappeared through the garden entrance, Thomas sagged with relief. His emotions were still running high, and if Danford had lingered at all, Thomas would have been hard-pressed to let him live long enough to duel with him. The shock of entering his beautiful garden, intending to continue his tryst with his wife, and instead, finding Danford in the process of debauching her had almost made his heart stop. Thank God, he’d reached her in time. He stepped back to Honoria, who still looked dazed. “Are you sure you’re all right, my dear?”

Her breathing was quicker, her cheeks hectic with streaks of red, but she smiled up at him, a sight that sent balm to his troubled heart. “I promise you, I am. He pawed at me and gave me disgusting kisses, but I managed to put him off long enough for you to arrive.” She cocked her head, looking charmingly like a curious bird. “Why are you back so soon? You didn’t expect to return until after dinner.”

Thomas smiled and put an arm around her shoulders. “Truly it is by the grace of God and my selfish wish to continue our little interlude here in the garden. Here, let us sit a moment. I don’t want you to swoon.” He himself was so keyed up, he could go five rounds with someone at Jackson’s and not blink an eye.

Leading her to the bench underneath the griffin statue, Thomas peered closely at his wife. Would she fear this place in the garden from now on? Or even the garden itself? That would be a shame, for they had had several very pleasant encounters here in the past week. If she now abhorred it, that would be another sin he’d lay at Danford’s door. But Honoria sat easily on the seat where she’d been attacked such a short time ago. A woman of fortitude if ever there was one.

“So, you had no idea that Lord Danford had schemed to get me alone here?”

“What?” Honoria’s words landed like a cannonball among ninepins, scattering his thoughts to the wind. “What do you mean?”

“He seemed to know that you had gone to visit our neighbor and would not be back for some hours. When I questioned that, he confessed to have written the letter to draw you away from the house.” That she could speak so calmly about the dastardly scheme gave even more credence to her strength.

“I had no idea.” Stunned, Thomas inwardly cursed Danford, and himself, for being so gullible. “Although as I rode down the lane toward Sanderling’s something in the back of my mind kept telling me I should return to the garden.” Whenever that nagging little voice had whispered to him, Thomas had taken heed. Today it had saved his wife from a horrifying ordeal. “I thought it was my baser self still enamored of our kiss. Now I see it was something more.”

“Whatever it was, I am grateful for it. I don’t quite know what I would have done next to dislodge Lord Danford.” She grinned up at him. “Possibly tried to get a knee in the proper place. That might have afforded me enough time to escape him.”

Laughing, Thomas pressed her to him. What a wonderful wife he’d married. “Remind me never to get on your wrong side, my dear.” Then he sobered. “Here, let me take you inside. You have had a shock and should rest. I think I shall send for Mr. Cawthorne, the apothecary in Cocking. He will have a potion to soothe you after your fright.”

“Thomas, I am perfectly well.” The little pout on her lips was enchanting but would make no difference to him.

“I will be the judge of that, madam.” He stood and scooped her into his arms.

“Thomas!” She shrieked, then laughed. “Put me down, sir. I am perfectly capable of walking.”

“I think not.” He swung around and headed for the garden gate. “I will have you seen to and fussed over until I am satisfied you are well.”

“Truly, Thomas, I—”

“Indulge me, please, my dear. You are not the only one who received a shock today.”

At that, she nodded and nestled her head against his chest. A better feeling he could not have wished for as he carried her into the Keep and up to the solar. He pushed open the door and Paxton jumped up from the chair where she sat mending a garment.

“What has happened, my lord?” The lady’s maid took in the sight of her lady in his arms and laid her work down. “Is my lady injured?”

“No, Paxton, not injured, but she’s had a shock.” Thomas strode to the bed and laid Honoria down on it. “Will you warm her nightgown and get her into it?” He turned to his wife, who was looking perturbed. Before she could speak, he lifted a finger in warning. “When I return, you will be in your night rail and under the covers, madam. Do I make myself clear?”

After a heavy sigh, she replied, “Yes, my lord.” The twinkle in her eyes, however, took the chill out of her voice.

“Very well. Tend to her Paxton. I will return shortly.” Thomas left as Paxton had hurried toward Honoria. Too bad Joanna would insist on taking the lady’s maid back. She was a true gem, and his sister knew it.

Running swiftly down the stairs, Thomas began to make a mental list of things that needed to be done. He must send word immediately to London, to Geoffrey and Rochdale, to attend him as his seconds. Geoffrey wouldn’t hesitate, and if Rochdale did, he’d remind him it had been his initial idiocy that had started this series of events. Almost as urgently, he must write to his attorney in Cocking about changing his will. Should the unthinkable happen, he’d not leave Honoria destitute when a stranger inherited the Keep and his other properties. He must also prepare the set of dueling pistols that had been his father’s. Other than some practice shooting, they’d never been fired. Then he would set the gardener and a couple of footmen to readying the dueling ground. The site he had in mind was about half a mile from the house, removed enough that Honoria could neither see nor hear the proceedings.

He entered the kitchen and called for the cook. “Mrs. Fitzhugh.”

The older woman came out from the storeroom, her eyes wide. “Yes, my lord? Is something amiss?”

“No, Mrs. Fitzhugh, but will you please fix a hot toddy and have it sent up to Lady Braeton’s chamber? She had a bit of a shock out in the garden, and I remember my mother set great store by a hot toddy for such things.”

“That she did, my lord.” The woman’s features relaxed. “I’ll fix it straight away and have one of the maids take it up directly.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Fitzhugh.” He smiled at the cook, then left for the small study off the library he used as an office and dashed off his letters in quick succession. He was about to seal the one to Geoffrey when he remembered they’d need a doctor present at the duel as well. Best have Geoffrey bring one from London, as none was present in the vicinity of the Keep. The postscript added, Thomas sealed the letter with red wax and set his family ring into it. He rang for Pearce and gave instructions for them to be posted immediately.

The butler took the letters, bowed, and left Thomas, who rose and poured a tumbler of brandy, a good reward for a job well done. At least he’d set in motion the things he could for today, save the one thing that had been preying on his mind ever since he’d challenged Danford. Righteous though his actions may have been, he had nevertheless set himself on a path that could end with him dead on the grass, with no son to inherit the earldom.

Thomas took a large gulp of the cognac, enjoying the burn as it chased itself down into his belly. He’d thought he and Honoria would have as much time as they needed to produce an heir. But now, much to his regret, they might have no time at all. They had not lain together even once, which Thomas regretted, but would not have changed given the circumstances of their marriage. Unfortunately, in three days their chances to do so might be irrevocably taken from them—unless he could persuade Honoria to allow him into her bed for these three precious nights.

The thought of asking such a thing, when he’d promised he wouldn’t, sat very ill with him. But circumstances had changed, and though there was no guarantee that they might conceive a son in the next few days, there was no chance at all if they did not at least try. He’d believed he and Honoria had gotten along very well over the past weeks. She’d not rebuffed his good-night kisses—indeed, she’d seemed to enjoy them. And when he’d carried her to her chamber just now, she’d seemed totally comfortable in his arms.

Thomas ran a hand through his hair. If he did not ask her, he’d be shirking his duty to his title, to his family line. So, he must at least ask if she’d allow him the intimacies of husband and wife. However, if she said no or even hesitated overmuch, he’d honor her wishes and damn the consequences. Pray God he was a better shot than Danford.

He downed the rest of the brandy, then quit the room. Best to confront his wife now, so he would know better how to proceed. His slight knock on the door drew a sleepy, “Come in.” Squaring his shoulders, he opened the door and entered.

The room was the same as when he’d left her scarcely an hour before, save Honoria now lay under the covers, the lacy edge of her night rail just peeping out, her tousled hair streaming over the pillow.

Thomas’s mouth dried at the sight, desire for her so strong he could feel it coursing throughout his body.

She smiled sleepily at him. “Thank you for sending up the toddy. It relaxed me wonderfully well.”

An innocent’s face with a seductress’s body. Lord, how was he to ask this woman to let him into her bed? He wouldn’t dream of it, had the need not been so dire. “You’re welcome, my dear. Are you feeling better?”

“I don’t think I felt badly before.” She stretched and sat up in bed, the covers falling down enough to show the front of her nightgown, thin white material that left little to the imagination about her breasts. “But the nap did refresh me.”

God, he could see the darkened tips of her nipples as they pressed against the translucent fabric. He swallowed hard and tried to smile without leering as he approached the bed. “I am glad you were able to rest.”

“Sit here, Thomas.” She patted the mattress next to her, and he groaned as he slid onto the bed. “Tell me, do you truly intend to duel with Lord Danford?”

His eyebrows furrowed. “Do you doubt it, Honoria? After he all but ravished you on my own property? In my own garden?”

“I know you will meet him,” she twisted her hands together, “but will you actually shoot at one another? Don’t duelists sometimes shoot into the air instead?”

“They do.” He wondered where her thoughts were going with this. “But I do not intend to follow that course of action. I doubt Danford does either.”

“Why not?” Her eyes searched his face. “Wouldn’t your honor be served as well by firing into the air as the other way would?”

“I suppose honor would be served, but that is not my only intention. I mean to kill Danford so he will no longer be a threat to you.” Thomas was surprised she didn’t understand that instinctively. He certainly had.

“But then he might kill you instead, Thomas.” Her hand stole out to take his. “I cannot bear to think of that happening.”

He squeezed her hand, then took it in both of his. “I know that is the risk I take, my dear, but I cannot trust the man to act honorably when I see no glimmer of honor in him.”

Tears had formed in Honoria’s eyes. “What would I do if you…if you…”

“I am making provisions if the worst should happen.” He had to look away from her. The sight of her forlorn face stabbed him in the heart. “I will make a new will that will give you as much financial security as is within my power. And my friend Geoffrey will look after your affairs if you will allow him to advise you. He will also call out Danford and dispatch him if I have not already done so.”

“Oh, Thomas, I don’t want you to do this. Not for me.” Her tears were now flowing freely down her cheeks, twisting his heart as they fell onto her breasts. “I do not want to lose you, my love.”

“My love.” He pulled her against his chest and leaned his head against her. So very precious. “You must allow me to defend my honor and yours. You must see I cannot act in any other manner and remain a gentleman.”

“I know that.” She sniffed as if trying to get herself under control. “I promise you I do understand. But I also know that I cannot bear to think that you might be taken from me.”

He leaned her back so he could see her face, beautiful despite the tears. “Honoria, I might be taken from you at any time. Or you from me. We are not promised the morrow, although we have faith each day that it will be given us. What we can do is to cherish the time we have, each day we are given to be together, and pray God will be merciful.”

She sighed and hung her head, then nodded.

Thomas steeled himself. He now wished more than ever not to have to ask this of her, but again, he had no choice. “I came here to ask something of you, Honoria.”

Raising her head, she wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her nightgown and sighed. “What is it?”

Now the time was here he scarcely knew what words to say. “If it is God’s will that I die, I would ask that I be able to do so with the hope that I will leave behind a child to comfort you when I am gone.” He glanced at her for some indication of how that suggestion sat with her. “Hopefully, an heir to carry on the family line.”

Her eyes widened, but she made no sound.

He hurried on. “I know I promised I would not press you to come to my bed until you were quite sure, but now—”

“Yes, yes of course.” Honoria spoke quickly, almost breathlessly. “You must…we must…” Her cheeks turned a rosy shade of red. “Yes. Just…yes.”

Relief poured through him. Not only had she agreed, but she didn’t even appear distressed that he’d asked her. He leaned forward and kissed her lips lightly. “Thank you, my love.” A huge weight rolled off his shoulders. Not only because now there might indeed be a child, but because Honoria had shown no fear of him. No hesitation in her answer. He slid off the bed. “I will send a tray for your supper so you will not have to dress. Would you prefer for me to come to you here…later?”

A quick nod, then she lowered her face.

“Then I will come after the house has gone to bed.” He lifted her chin and gazed into her deep blue eyes. “Do not worry, my love. It will be all right.”

Another brief kiss, and he left quickly, not wishing to upset her in any way. As he hurried down the corridor to his room, a sudden thought gave Thomas a start. Would his resolve to avenge his wife’s honor with this duel to the death weaken once he discovered how much more he stood to lose?