Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter
THIRTY-FOUR
Leo decided to leave Portia to mull for the rest of the afternoon and made sure they didn’t have a single moment alone until the five of them arrived back home after the park.
She was oddly silent and he had no idea if that was a good or a bad sign, but he was glad that he had told her.
He had wanted to for days and had almost bared his heart during numerous passionate encounters, but held back.
Reasoning that any declaration made in the heat of the moment would give his clever wife a reason to doubt the earnestness of the words.
Now, like the accused in the dock awaiting the deliberating jury’s return, he was nervous as to what her verdict would be.
“Who fancies some tea?” asked his mother as she climbed the front steps.
“Me,” answered Portia without a second’s hesitation and with a furtive glance his way, which all rather suggested she was either putting off telling him the bad news or the jury was still out.
“Your grace?” A man suddenly wandered toward them on the pavement, his hat respectfully in his hands. “I presume you are the Duke of Debden?”
“I am.” But Leo was certain he had never seen this fellow in his life. “Can I help you?”
“I am Mr. Walker. Mr. Robert Walker of Soho. You recently purchased one of my machines and I wanted to check that it met with your satisfaction?”
“Oh.” What bloody awful timing. “Yes. Of course.” Leo placed a hand on the small of his wife’s back to usher her up the steps and out of earshot, but she was having none of it and planted her feet. Her eyes were also suspiciously narrowed. “It arrived in perfect order, sir.”
“That is good to know.” Like Portia, Mr. Walker showed no signs of moving. “One worries when such an expensive piece of equipment travels so many miles on the water. Bath is such a long way from London.”
“Indeed, it is but it came at record speed with no hiccups at all. Thank you so much for taking the trouble to check.” Leo inclined his head to signal that this impromptu meeting was done while racking his brains for a suitable lie to tell Portia to explain the strange conversation as he practically pushed her up the steps.
Would she believe he had ordered a new plow from London? Or a threshing machine perhaps? Or a—
She stopped dead on the top step and spun around. “Robert Walker of Soho? You make printing presses, don’t you, Mr. Walker?”
“I do indeed,” said their unwelcome visitor, his chest puffing with pride. “I like to think that we make the best printing presses in the entire country.”
Her gaze flicked to Leo and he could see the cogs of her clever mind working overtime. “You are licensed to make Stanhope presses, I believe, Mr. Walker?” Except the dark brow that quirked in question quirked at Leo instead of their guest.
“We do others, of course, but the Stanhope is in a league of its own.” Oblivious that one of Leo’s secrets was now unraveling in front of his wife like knitting, Mr. Walker was only too happy to expand.
“Especially when it comes to printing things in large quantities—like newspapers. Can I inquire as to what provincial newspaper you needed the press for, your grace?” He turned to Leo and for effect, Portia did too.
“Er…”
Portia gave him a hard nudge before she answered in Leo’s stead. “Equitas, I’ll wager. Although he is prone to be annoyingly coy about his apparent philanthropy to that publication.”
“Ah,” said Mr. Walker. “Your secret is safe with me, your grace.” The man tapped the side of his nose.
“But in my humble opinion, it is a worthy publication, to be sure, and one I am glad my printing presses are now associated with. Although it does explain why you needed a new one so fast. Raided again, was it?”
“Of course.” There was a clipped edge to Portia’s voice. “And everything in it smashed to smithereens because some in the government prefer the public not to be informed of important issues that concern them, while the rest cannot be bothered to find the time to fight for them.”
“Indeed. Our government needs more good men like you to stand up for what is right, your grace.”
“You are so right, Mr. Walker.” She skewered Leo with her glare. “The more good men who shout into the wind, the more chance we all have of things being changed.” That unsubtle dig delivered, Portia beamed at Mr. Walker. “Thank you for taking the trouble of stopping by, sir.”
When the unwelcome visitor finally bid them both good day, Portia stomped inside and spoke to his mother rather than Leo.
“As it appears that your confounding son and I need to have an urgent conversation, we won’t now be joining you for tea, Letitia.
” Then she glared at him again before she marched up the stairs, expecting him to follow.
Her hands were on her hips by the time he reached her bedchamber and she used her foot to kick the door closed behind him.
“Well … aren’t you just full of surprises today?
” He could not tell if she was angry or not and that was disconcerting.
“Were you ever going to tell me that it was you who replaced Equitas’s broken printing press? ”
“Probably not.”
That answer made her glare intensify. “And you replaced it at doubtless eye-watering expense because?”
“I can afford to and it seemed like the right thing to do when I felt somewhat responsible for Nolley’s venom toward the newspaper. And because…” He huffed, realizing that she wouldn’t accept anything but the whole truth. “It broke my heart to witness how upset all his wanton destruction made you.”
“I thought we had agreed to keep no more secrets from one another?” She was clearly peeved that he had, despite his recently revealed largesse to her beloved newspaper. “Or was that a one-sided edict that only I was supposed to abide by?”
“Of course it wasn’t one-sided.” Her foot began to tap.
“But in my defense…” He had already bared his heart so it was pointless pretending otherwise.
Especially when she had him over a barrel.
“For pity’s sake, I am in love with you, Portia!
I didn’t want you feeling any more beholden to me than you already do. ”
She said nothing. Folded her arms. Walked to the window.
Sighed.
“Why do you have to be such a gallingly wonderful human being?” When she turned, her eyes were stormy as she walked toward him. “Why couldn’t you have been a typical, entitled, pompous, and wholly dislikeable duke like I wanted you to be?”
He shrugged, not sure where this was going. “Sorry.”
Her finger prodded his chest. “You’ve been nothing but an enormous and unwelcome complication to me, Leopold Sloane. How dare you upend my life and force me to reevaluate staunch beliefs that I have held for all my adult life?”
“Should I apologize again?”
“No.” Her hands flattened against his chest a moment before she pressed her mouth against his, then as she kissed him, she set to work on the buttons of his waistcoat. “If you don’t mind, I am going to have to have my wicked way with you now.”
“Of course I don’t mind.” He happily kissed her back until he realized that he was still none the wiser as to the way she felt about him. Still in wretched, hopeful limbo. “But—” He tore his lips from hers and held her at arm’s length. “I need to know what that means.”
She looked down, unable to meet his eye, and that made him brace himself for bad news. “I’ve been laboring over you—us—for a week, Leo. To the point where I’ve picked up my pen more times than I can count so that I could organize all my conflicting feelings in an essay and nothing would come.”
It seemed prudent not to mention that he knew that.
Especially as he was desperate to hear her say the words to him rather than read them clandestinely.
And because she was obviously still angry at him for the printing press secret he had stupidly kept.
If that had made her rant, then the knowledge that he had repeatedly invaded her privacy would likely make her explode with rage.
So he stayed quiet and hoped beyond hope that this moment would signal the turning point he craved with all his besotted heart.
“I’ve no logical arguments against you, beyond you being a duke, and no arguments for why I cannot continue to resist you, Leo, despite all my rigid political principles.
That has never happened to me before.” She stepped forward, laying her head against his chest and wrapping her arms around his waist, seeking comfort.
Something this bold and independent woman had never done before.
“Until I realized the reason I had nothing was the only objection that I had was your title, and the only reason that I had no supporting arguments to talk me out of my love for you was because…” She squeezed him tighter.
“I’ve been stubbornly suppressing them all.
You are an overbearing, heavy-handed, insufferable, aristocratic man—and against all my better judgment, and against all my steadfast objections to being someone’s wife, I have fallen head over heels in love with you too. ”
Leo took a moment to let that sink in. To revel in it. Thank the heavens for it. Then he lifted her chin so that he could see her lovely face. “Does that mean you’ll stay my duchess?”
“It means that I am prepared to give us a go.”
“I’ll take that.” Their next kiss was the most poignant and utterly perfect of his life, because both their hearts were involved.
Once it was done, he lifted her up and carried her to the bed, then reverently undressed her on the mattress. As their passion built, even that was different.
Every touch felt significant.
Every word was treasured.
For the first time in their married life, he finally understood what the vow meant to honor someone with your body, because they told each other that irrefutable truth over and over again with every single kiss. Every single caress. Every relieved and grateful sigh.
Before he pushed his body inside hers, however, he wanted to be sure before he gave all of himself to her and potentially closed off her last escape route. “Can I come inside you, Portia?”
“Yes.” She sighed that as she smiled against his lips. “As much as it surprises me to say it, or how much the consequences of it were never something I ever considered before you swooped in and flummoxed me, I would like that very much.”