“Perhaps she loved him,” he said, wincing at the bitterness in his voice. “Perhaps he planted his seed to secure her dowry. How disappointed he must be to find his efforts were in vain!”
She withdrew her hand and gave him a resounding slap on the face.
“How dare you make light of my friend’s circumstances!” she cried. “She’ll be shunned by society, and her brother is furious with her. What hope does she have now of securing a living or a home of her own?”
Fraser’s cheeks warmed with shame at the part he’d played in her downfall. He closed his eyes but could not dispel the image of her supple little body laid out for him to feast on.
Oh, Delilah—my Lilah!
“Your Grace?”
He opened his eyes. Mrs. Pelham stared at him, understanding in her eyes.
“Is there something you should tell me?” she asked.
“I love her,” he said, his chest tightening. “I always have.”
She reached up and caressed his cheek where she’d struck it. “Forgive me,” she said. “I had no wish to hurt you. I did wonder whether there was an understanding between the two of you, but when you left for Scotland, it was as if you’d never existed. She never spoke of you, just grew silent, and threw herself into helping Mrs. Forbes.”
“It’s I who should beg forgiveness,” he said. “I shouldn’t have left. I’m the cause of her ruination.”
They rounded a corner, and she pointed ahead.
“There! We’re almost home. Won’t you join us for supper? Harold would be glad to see you, I’m sure.”
Her affability was too much to resist, and he was in sore need of congenial company after the revelation.
But as soon as dinner was concluded, nothing would prevent him from traveling to Bath. If Baldwin thought his master eccentric, then an unexpected journey at first light tomorrow would confirm his suspicions.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Children’s voices penetrated Lilah’s dreams, and she opened her eyes. Though the air was cold, the furs kept her warm, like a cocoon. Thea’s voice carried across the wind, punctuated by squeals of merriment as she played with the housekeeper’s children.
Free from the confines of London society, Thea’s personality came to the fore. She loved children, and though she was deemed too old for the society marriages Dexter wanted for them all, she was looking forward to becoming an aunt.
Dexter had rented them a house on the outskirts of Bath, close enough to enable Lilah to take the waters if she wished. And it came with a sizeable garden, which enabled her to enjoy the fresh air away from the judgmental eyes of the world.
The lawn stretched toward a line of trees leading to a pond, where the occasional ripple of a fish disturbed the surface. In the center of the lawn, an armillary sphere stood atop a stone pillar surrounded by rose bushes. Frost covered their leaves as if they’d been dusted with sugar.
But despite the cold, spring filled the air. Bright green shoots poked through the frost and would soon burst into vivid colors.
The season of rebirth and new beginnings.
Dexter had offered to find Lilah a husband. Despite having warned her he’d not give her another dowry, he promised he’d ensure she was provided for. She had expected her brother to be angry with her, but his anger and disgust were directed at Sir Thomas. Dexter had begun to suspect that he had been involved in producing the leaflets inciting the riot at Clayton House. But, where Lilah may originally have wanted to see the man brought to justice, she now only wanted to forget he’d ever existed.
As to finding a husband, she was done with placing herself at the mercy of a man. All that mattered was her child. Where she’d planned to battle the world, she now had a new challenge—that of nurturer and protector. The world would have to wait.
She shifted position to ease the ache in her back and placed a hand on her belly, whispering a greeting as she felt the child move.
Ruined she may have been, but out of that ruination, had come a life. Whatever he thought of Lilah now, the child had been conceived out of love.
Her love.
“I cannot wait to meet you, little one,” she whispered. “And you will be loved. By so many people. Your aunt and uncle…”
Laughter erupted behind her, the uninhibited squeals of young souls who knew nothing of the world.
A tear formed in her eye, and she wiped it away. But she had no right to wallow in self-pity. Her child would want for nothing. What was a little scorn from society compared to the hardships many other women endured?
And what did it matter if she surveyed the landscape before her and found it wanting, compared to the rugged mountains and hillsides of the Highlands?
No—she had no desire to see the mountain again.
None at all.
Not the wild, wide-open spaces, nor the fresh air, the cries of the eagles, or the majestic peaks which stretched toward the heavens…
Moisture stung her eyes, and she blinked.
She heard raised voices—a man’s voice, pleading, and Thea’s sharp tones. Lilah closed her eyes.
Thea must be admonishing the butler again, Lilah smiled. Her sister always took the housekeeping too seriously. She’d never forget the years of poverty they’d endured before Dexter made his fortune.
A familiar, rich voice invaded her mind. She bit her lip, but it persisted, as unyielding as the Highland rocks against which he’d almost claimed her.
The voice grew louder. Angry, indignant—as it was on the day he’d cast her out.
The voices stopped. Footsteps approached, but she kept her eyes closed and tipped her face toward the sun, relishing the warmth on her face and the soft pink glow through her eyelids.
A shadow passed over her.
“Delilah.”
The soft whisper, filled with love, resonated through her bones. She smiled, and the touch solidified as strong fingers interlocked with hers. Warm, soft lips caressed her skin.
She opened her eyes and looked into a clear blue ocean.
Unable to forget the anger which had darkened those eyes the last time she saw them, she withdrew her hand and pulled the furs up to her chin as if to protect herself. But he grasped her hand again, and she surrendered. Her body responded to his touch, and shivers of need tightened her skin as he caressed her hand with his thumb.
“Did I hurt you so badly that you shrink from my touch?”
How she’d longed to hear his voice again!
“I never meant for any of it to happen,” she said.
“I know, lass. I curse the day I let my anger rule my heart—and I doubly curse the day my pride drove me to Scotland—away from you. But now I’ve found you, I have no wish to let you go again.”
“How did you know where I was?” she asked.
“Mrs. Pelham told me where to find you,” he said. “I happened across her not long after I returned to London.”
“You’re in town?”
“I was,” he said, smiling, “but I’m now here, in the presence of a goddess. I also find myself in a much-improved position financially, thanks to an anonymous investment.”
She tried to withdraw her hand, but his grip, though gentle, was not to be denied.
“I hope one day to meet my investor,” he said, “to admonish them for their lack of sense.”