Andrew Lord of Despair(44)

She bit his shoulder in a fashion Andrew found… thoughtful. “I will promise, you misguided, lost man, to marry you if it becomes clear there is a threat to my life or that of this baby. I do not, however, agree to any of your other terms, and I further demand that should we marry, you promise me we will live together as if we were truly man and wife.”

Andrew had long since reached a place of bleak resignation with this discussion, but rallied himself to think through that demand. He couldn’t very well protect her if he was living in Italy and she was left raising a child in Sussex. And as to that, while fashionable couples often spent some of the year apart, they also spent much of the year quite publicly together. He at least owed Astrid the appearance of a true marriage—should it ever come to that.

“I accept your terms.”

“Thank you,” she rejoined pleasantly. “I compliment you on the first bit of sense you’ve shown all night.” With that, she tucked herself into the curve of his body and went quiet.

In a just world, they would have had a chance at building a life together; in reality, tragedies, bad decisions, and unfairness abounded, and he would never be worthy of her.

And he would never have the balls to explain to her why.

He made love to her by way of consolation to her and penance for himself, aroused her with tenderness and care and a wealth of longing. She joined him in a sleepy haze and wrapped herself around him, apparently accepting the pleasure—and the loss—their joining signified. He couldn’t bring himself to tell her good-bye, simply could not say the words.

Andrew told the woman he loved, with his hands, with his body and his kisses, that he was full of regret for causing her pain. He told her he did care for her, so very much, and he told her when his body slipped from hers and he left her bed this time, he would never, ever come back.

***

Douglas Allen kissed Astrid’s forehead in greeting. He had the sense she loathed the contact, and considered it, in some convoluted way, the least he could do for her. Anger had become his best antidote to overwhelming melancholy, and Astrid had reason to be melancholy, probably more reason than she knew.

But he had to admit as he stepped back, she looked better. Her eyes were no longer a flat mask of pain, and her face showed emotion besides sadness and bewilderment.

“The country air and the company of your sister have improved your spirits.”

“Nonsense, Douglas,” Lady Amery cut in. “Astrid is wan, she has lost flesh, and she looks quite worn out to me. Lady Heathgate has no doubt been at her wit’s end with concern for her sister.”

A slight smile flickered between the sisters, the last being no doubt true. Douglas noted the glance and felt a stab of old irritation. His brothers had exchanged the same kind of looks around him constantly.

“We shall soon have her back to Town, where she may recover from the rigors of her visit to the country.” He addressed himself to Astrid, because she was a woman blessedly comfortable with plain speech. “If that is your wish?”

“Perhaps we need not make plans at this point,” Heathgate interrupted, slipping an arm around his wife in a startling display of informal affection. “I’m sure you would all like to be shown to your rooms and get settled before we gather for luncheon.”

“I, for one,” said Henry, his grin much in evidence, “would like to see the stables. I’ve been told you’ve a prime eye, your lordship.”

Viscount Fairly shoved away from the mantel where he’d been silently perusing the company with his unnerving eyes. “I’ll join you,” he said, “and we can leave Lord Heathgate to complete his morning’s correspondence.”

“Capital!” Henry rejoined.

Douglas would have liked to go with them, but that would have left no one to escort his mother to her room. He gave the marquess a bow and offered his mother an elbow.

They followed Lady Heathgate up the stairs, Lady Amery chattering about the manor house’s lovely appointments. Douglas was inordinately relieved to tuck his mother into her room and follow his hostess down the hallway to his chamber. The room was commodious and comfortable, and that was a relief too, for despite determined self-discipline, Douglas remained a man who enjoyed his creature comforts.

“Your hospitality, my lady, is all that is generous.” He bowed to her formally in the corridor, seeing his valise had been brought up already.

“You must consider yourself family while you are here, my lord,” she replied. “I have enjoyed having my sister’s company, and thank you for your willingness to share her with us these weeks past.”