CHAPTER FIFTEEN #3
“At last!” Raith seized her hand, and led her hastily to the inner door. “With your leave, Ottery.”
“You are my guest, my lord.”
A moment later, Rosina found herself in a little chamber behind the lawyer’s office, with the door closed, and her husband leaning against it. She moved into the room, pausing by the desk and turning to face him.
“Well?”
She bit her lip. “Anton, after last night —”
“Oh, sweet heaven, last night!”
Rosina flushed, and looked away. “You — you had not the intention to make me your wife in truth, I know that.”
“Does that rankle?” He came away from the door. “Rosy, believe me, though I asked Ottery yesterday to free me, it was not for lack of faith.”
“How can I blame you? After what that doctor said.”
“It is true that I did waver. I was seduced into the idea you had married me —”
“To conceal my condition? Oh, Raith.”
“Don’t look at me like that, Rosina. I am all too ashamed. If you had heard how Ottery berated me. But he knew it was not truly that which drove me.”
“How could it be otherwise?”
Raith’s heart thrummed unevenly. “You went away from me — in spirit, I mean. I thought I had lost you altogether, and I swear to you, Rosy, that was more to me than if you had been less than pure.”
Rosina’s stare was blank. “It is not possible.”
“You may ask Ottery. I thought you hated me, and I could not live with you, knowing that, believing it.”
“I hate you? Anton, how could you suppose it? You won my heart long since.”
“Rosy!” He came up to her, and caught her wavering fingers to his lips. “I own I hoped, after last night, that you had some feeling for me.”
“And you for me,” she returned, gripping his hand. “I thought I heard you say that you loved me, but —”
“Thought!” He dragged her into his arms, and kissed her. “I am so desperately in love with you I think I am going mad. I have been so from the very beginning.”
“Anton, that cannot be true.”
“Can it not?” Shifting, he turned her to the wall, and went quickly to open the cupboard doors that concealed the aperture through which the dark shadow of Ottery’s portrait could be seen.
“Look at this.” Rosina looked at him instead and in puzzlement, but then moved to examine it.
The significance escaped her for the moment. “Look closely.”
She did so, and gave a cry as she came upon the view, through a slight veil, of Ottery’s office.
It was obvious anyone sitting beyond the desk must be visible.
The place was empty. Had the lawyer had the tact to leave, knowing he must overhear anything that was said in this room?
A surge of emotion rose up in her breast. She turned, unable to find words, merely gazing at her spouse.
He had retreated to the other side of the room, and his look was rueful. “Yes, I deceived you from the first. I saw and heard all.”
“I felt it! All the while, I felt I was being watched. I thought it had been a trick of those horrid eyes in that portrait. But it was you?”
His hands went up in a gesture of despair.
“What can I say? From the first instant that I saw you, looking quite as you do now, with just such a cap, I was lost. Every moment as you sat in that chair, every word you said, only served to attract me the more. I was too afraid I would lose you, if you had a sight of my face.” He sighed deeply.
“Then, after we married, and I was so close to you, I was locked in a situation which put me into a state well-nigh akin to insanity.”
“Then when you cut at me, and threw your bitterness in my face —”
“I could not tolerate any mention of my disfigurement. Only because I wanted you so badly, and I could not believe you might begin to reciprocate my affection.”
“But I did so in spite of it, perhaps because of it. Your very touchiness made me privy to your deepest feelings, Anton.”
“Yet I hated myself for what I was doing to you.”
He dared at last to approach her again, but he did not touch her.
Rather his gaze searched hers. “Rosy, I loved you at sight, and time, knowing you, discovering the magical wonder that you are, has only served to strengthen that feeling. If you had left me, or had I tried indeed to put you aside, I could not have endured it. I would not have been able to rest until I had you back.”
At that, her elusive smile played upon Rosina’s lips. “I had every expectation that you might command my return, my dear, imperious lord.”
“Which was why you flew to Ottery for protection.”
Rosina looked up at him in some distress. “But though you might love me enough to waive the matter, I wish I could have a way to prove myself, for how can you ever be sure —”
“Rosy, you little fool!” He cupped her face, his voice caressing, “My darling, don’t you know that last night gave me incontrovertible proof of your innocence?”
How was it possible? Vaguely she recalled something Mama had said. Only it was so long ago, and the subject had never again been of relevance.
“Do you mean that you knew by —”
“By lying with you as I did, yes.”
“Then, if you had done so at the outset, we need never have been through all this agony.”
“I don’t think it could have been avoided, sweetheart. In one way or another, and that is my blame.”
“No, it is your brother’s.” On impulse, Rosina reached up and drew his face down to hers, pressing a kiss to the scar. He stiffened, but made no attempt to draw away. “There. That is what I think of your countenance, Anton Raith.”
A slow smile crept across his face. “I own I had rather you kissed it than struck at it.”
“Don’t speak of that. I have suffered agonies of remorse.”
She threw herself into his arms, muffling her face in his shoulder. Raith clasped her to him, pressing her close. “Don’t, sweetheart. I have so much more for which to feel remorse, I am glad of that morsel of punishment.”
“I was afraid you would take a horrible revenge.”
Tenderness was in his face. “You must have seen that my bark is far worse than my bite. If I touch you, it can only be like this.”
His lips came down on hers, and his kiss drove away the last of her fears, melting her bones. She sagged into him, and he drew her tighter. His mouth left hers, but only to murmur against her lips. “Rosy, I adore you.”
“And I love you, Anton.”
He took her lips again, and the exchange became intense. For quite some time Rosina had no opportunity for speech, but at length, her husband was induced to release her mouth, but only so that he might give out a heated groan.
“I cannot wait to get you home again!”
Rosina blushed. “But it is the middle of the day, Raith. You cannot possibly —”
His arms cradled her, and his lips traced a path about her forehead, cheeks and eyes. “I can very possibly.”
“But the servants!”
“There are locks to the doors, are there not?”
“Yes, but —?
Raith raised his head suddenly. “Good grief, how right you were about the stupid formality of that arrangement of our bedchambers. Shall we choose another — together?”
She gave a smile, feeling shy. “But then we could not make assignations in the antechamber. We might choose whether you are to visit me, or I am to come to you.”
Her spouse laughed. “That, wife, is a most romantic notion.”
“Yes, and I have thought of another advantage. When you are horrid, which is bound to happen now and then, and lose your temper —”
“You may lock the door against me? I dare say you would prefer not to face the consequences of that.”
Rosina giggled. “Why, would you break the door open?”
“I should not need to. You would have to come out sooner or later. I will bide my time.”
“The day you bide your time, Anton Raith, I will look to see pigs take wing.”
Her spouse grinned. “Then you will not be surprised at my present impatience for an assignation.”
Rosina flirted up at him, free and clear, and with a lightness of heart. “I am rather afraid I may be too exhausted from last night’s exertions —”
“Rosy!”
“But if you so command me, my lord, I must obey.”
Raith drew a breath, and sighed it out with intense satisfaction. “How excellent a thing is the marriage vow.”
And Rosina, as his lips claimed hers in tacit promise, could not but reciprocate with the deepest approbation of her conjugal duty.
***