Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Frederick bowed over Alice’s body from where he had bent her over his desk in his study. The past few days had been a whirlwind of too-good-to-be-true—she had sought his company, even spending time in the library with him, and they had been insatiable.
He hadn’t even known it was possible to want someone the way he wanted her.
Constantly. As soon as he finished, he wanted her again.
And she, too, sometimes came to find him purely so he could do things like bend her over his table and take her from behind.
Though he always made sure to prop her leg on a chair or something else to make her comfortable.
He didn’t think seeing her ruined leg would ever stop bringing that surge of guilt with it, but it had come to symbolize more than that now. It was part of her, and he was beginning to realize he craved every single part of her she had to give.
He eased her up from the table and brushed her skirts back down. “How are you feeling?”
She cast her gaze over the documents strewn across the floor. “You are doing your accounts?”
“I was doing my accounts. I have been somewhat distracted this past hour.”
She sent him an arch glance, then picked up the sheets of paper. “I used to help my father with the accounts, you know.”
“You did?”
“I’ve always had a good head for numbers.
” She chewed on her lip, and he forced his attention from her face back down to the paper she held in her hand.
The numbers from the latest crops. The market prices had gone down, particularly on milk and wool, and although he was in no trouble yet, he would have to think about the best ways to proceed.
“Well, do you care to assist me?” he offered. “I have my steward look over my calculations, but if you can do it, then that would certainly be more convenient. And I’m open to any suggestions you may have. Once the Season is over, we can travel to the country and you can see the land for yourself.”
Her eyes gleamed. “I would like that very much.”
“But I must stay here until the end of the summer,” he shrugged. “I’ll return for the August shooting season, but not before.”
Her expression stilled somewhat. “Your reputation?”
“It has improved over recent weeks, at least somewhat, but it’s not enough.” His father would not be satisfied with that meager improvement. He had lost so much of the respect his name was due—and while he knew much of it was his own fault, he could not stop trying to fix it.
“We can attend another ball together?” she suggested. “I can play the model wife. The model Duchess, even.”
“I’m sure you will.”
“Besides,” she added with a sly smile, “you have yet to speak with Lord Denshire and convince him to let Helena marry dear Mr. Kingsley.”
Frederick groaned, slumping back on his armchair and patting his lap. To his delight, she settled there. “I shall meet with him tomorrow,” he promised. “And I will do what I can.”
“Good.” She kissed the side of his neck. “I will leave the house and go riding, I think. That way, I won’t make Lord Denshire uncomfortable.”
“You don’t make him uncomfortable,” he gave her a sideways glance.
“He doesn’t like me.”
Frederick wrapped his arm around her waist, drawing her closer.
“He doesn’t like the risk that you have posed to my reputation.
That’s not the same thing. Remember, the first time he met you, you charged into my wedding and accused me of ruining your life to the extent that all of London was filled with rumors about how I must have seduced you. ”
She snorted. “At least it should be obvious now that you haven’t gotten me with child.”
No, he hadn’t, although that was still a dream of his. Still, he could accept that it would come in time, and now was not the moment for that conversation.
“That’s something,” he agreed. “And now we’ve chosen to put the past behind us, he can have no more issues with you. Just be patient with him. He’s defended me, rather avidly, for as long as I can remember.”
“Well, I can respect that. A friend who remains loyal through thick and thin is a good friend to have indeed.” She tensed, then sighed. “I am sorry for ruining your wedding.”
“I am not.” He held her closer. “You cannot conceive how lost I was then. The only way to make amends I knew was to marry well.”
“Instead, you married me.”
“And I was able to make amends in a far more satisfying way.” He kissed her hair. “Although, I do wish you had gone about it in a slightly different manner.”
“I have no doubt,” she said dryly. “When you came to the house, my uncle thought you were going to demand financial recompense.”
“Well, I was. I hadn’t put you together with the girl I had visited once after the accident. It was only afterward that I knew, and I could hardly fail in my duty to marry you then.”
“How perverse it seemed at the time.”
“Yes, you made that perfectly clear. But would you have rather things had been different?”
A long pause as she thought. He did his best not to tense or let his thoughts get the better of him.
“No,” she said eventually. “If you hadn’t offered for me, I would have been stuck in my uncle’s house with nothing to do but sit and embroider.
My cousin was due to go to London, you know—she must be here now, but my aunt has not so much as written to say they have arrived.
” She sighed again. “They were kind to me, in their own way, but they never understood me, and I believe they never thought of me as anything but a burden.”
“Then show them what you can be.” He nodded at the doorway. “Walk over there without your stick. I’ll be right behind you.”
After a moment, she rose from his lap and gripped the side of the desk to support herself. Then, her head held high, she walked with only a minor limp to the door.
When she turned back, her face was glowing with pride. He, too, glowed with pride, although he hadn’t moved from beside the desk.
“You said you were right behind me,” she accused, her brows arching.
“I knew that would give you the confidence to try,” he chuckled and opened his arms. “Look how far you’ve come. I, for one, cannot wait to see their faces when they see that.”
“And it’s because of you,” she murmured with a wondering expression as she limped back to him, sinking into his embrace. “I would once never have thought it.”
“It is the least I could do,” he said, and meant it.
True to his word, he invited Denshire to Whites and ordered scotch for them both.
He wasn’t relishing upholding his promise to Alice, but he had made a promise, and he was a man of his word.
Besides, he’d gotten a favorable impression of Mr. Kingsley, and he suspected Helena would not be so easily dissuaded.
Denshire settled into the chair opposite. “I can’t decide if you look cheerful or down in the dumps.”
“Broadly cheerful—nervous about broaching this subject with you,” he said. “But I made Alice a promise and I don’t go back on my promises.”
“Alice? The Duchess? What on earth could she want with me?”
“Not you, Denshire. Helena.”
“Hmm.” Denshire took a long sip of scotch. “And what about? I want them to be friends, naturally, particularly if the Duchess has gotten over her ridiculous grudge, but why bring me into it?”
“You are Helena’s brother.”
“I am aware,” Denshire uttered irritably. “Taking her to all these events because my mother doesn’t feel up to the task. It’s exhausting having a younger sister to chaperone. Be thankful you don’t have one of your own.”
“Well, then, perhaps you’ll like the solution I have in mind,” Frederick shrugged.
Denshire scowled. “What solution?”
“Helena has developed a tendre for Mr. William Kingsley. He’s bought a commission and I have no doubt he will distinguish himself while there.
Crucially, if she has found a man she likes, I suspect she will not rest until she marries him, and better she do so now than remain a maid waiting for him to return from the war.
” Frederick tossed back his scotch, too.
“She looks demure, and make no mistake, she is, but she has a stubborn streak. Just like her brother.”
“And why hasn’t she told me of this fancy?” Denshire demanded.
“Would you have condoned it?”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“If she thought you wouldn’t accept the match, then why would she have given you leave to turn him down? I believe she was willing to wait, but Alice and I agree that it is a foolish course of action. If she has her heart settled on him, she may as well marry him now.”
“Mr. Kingsley…” Denshire’s eyes narrowed. “The younger son of an Earl?”
“That’s him. Give him five years, and he’ll be a captain, I’m sure.”
Denshire slammed his glass down on the table. “Pah! My sister deserves better!”
“Your sister will not marry better, if I know anything about the matter. Regardless of what you want.”
Denshire rose. “It is not about what I want, it is about what is best for her.”
“Well, that is not for you to decide, old boy. At least, not wholly.” He, too, stood and clapped Denshire on the shoulder. “Consider this. The sooner she is married with a household of her own, the less you will have to do with regards to chaperoning.”
“And if he doesn’t have a household of his own?” Denshire frowned.
“She will still be a married woman. But he has a wealthy family. I imagine he will have some small inheritance. A property somewhere? Perhaps not a residence in London, but they could rent during the Season. Or lodge with his family or yours.” Frederick shrugged.
“There are ways around the matter at hand.”
The Earl’s brows quirked. “And your wife sent you to persuade me?”
“She rather suspected you would take the advice better from me.”
“She is not wrong about that.” Denshire picked up his scotch, finished it, then glowered at the bottom of the glass. “I’d hoped for a better match.”
“Perhaps it will not be a bad one.”
He scowled. “Aye, and perhaps it won’t be a good one, either.” He waved a hand. “Leave it with me. I shall see what is to be done about it all.”
Satisfied he had done his duty by Alice and his own conscience, Frederick let the matter drop, and wondered what it was Alice was doing on this fine afternoon.