The Last Duchess (The Lennox Series)(90)
“You have my respect and I’ll do my best not to be cruel, even unintentionally.” Looking over the top of her head, with her soft, lovely body melded against his own, he spied the bloody sheets, remembered the horror of thinking she was dying, and felt a pain in his chest. He was, indeed, doomed. “As for you being too close, I believe it’s far too late for me to keep you at arm’s length. I’ve grown quite attached to you, and even if you do conceive, I daresay my intention to leave you alone, to avoid you, is completely ludicrous. Near, or far, you’ll always be in my thoughts, and I’d worry more about you at a distance. There’s also the issue of sleeping. I’ve not slept so well my entire life as I do with you beside me. I won’t give that up.”
She was quiet a moment, then asked, “If your goal has been to keep me at arm’s length, if you wanted not to be attached, why, then, did you arrange for us to share this chamber? Why have you taken me about the estate, even when you did not have to, and I did not expect it? Today, you will take me with you to Dover, on a matter of business, even though I wouldn’t consider it odd to be left behind. We’ve been together, in every possible way, awake and asleep, since we arrived at Beckinsale House.”
He tangled his fingers in her hair and inhaled the faint scent of lemons while he considered her question, and his answer. “Will you think me ridiculous if I say I haven’t any idea? I sent instructions to Hester and I thought I told her to place you in a different chamber, but perhaps I did not. Once we arrived, I thought to have you moved, but every day, I forgot, and after a while, I abandoned the notion. There are no connecting rooms in this house, so maybe I unconsciously didn’t like the idea of traipsing down the hall each night in my dressing robe.” He smiled, in spite of the seriousness of her question. “I won’t be coy and say I didn’t intend to make love to you and enjoy it thoroughly, so perhaps I was being hopeful we would not be limited to once of an evening. I don’t know about you, but I think some of our very best times have been just at dawn, with the birds chirping and the sun peeking over the horizon and you with your sleepy eyes.”
Her arms tightened about him. “It is wonderful to wake up to you, Michael. You are somehow . . . different in the mornings.”
His smile faded. “I’ve liked you from the start, Jane, and knew this would not be anything like my previous marriages, that we would be friends, as well as lovers. I suppose most would say I am a lonely person, usually going about life in a solitary fashion. That you’re familiar with the workings of an estate, that I can speak with you about these things and you understand completely, even take an avid interest, is really kind of marvelous. But again, there was no forethought to any of it. I asked you to accompany me, you did, we enjoyed it, and beyond that, I don’t suppose I thought about it.” He leaned back a bit to look into her face. “It would appear I’ve been at cross purposes to my intent of keeping a distance.”
Her blue-eyed gaze was filled with that look she had, as though he were the only man in the world. “I’m glad, Blix, and love, or no love, it’s been a glorious honeymoon. I’d not change a thing.”
“I feel the same, even if I fear I’ve become too attached.” He thought of their return to London, and eventually, Eastchase Hall. He pictured the large suite of rooms they would occupy in each house, one chamber and dressing room for him, another of like size for her. The rooms were connected, but he would still detest it. “When we go to London, and later to Eastchase, will you stay with me, Jane? Would you grievously mind sharing my bed, not having your own bedchamber?”
“No, Blix, I wouldn’t mind at all. On the contrary, in my own bed, I believe I’d miss you awfully. As we go forward, we’ll be friends and lovers, and hold one another in affection, because we do all of these things already. I’m content to go on as we are, and if I conceive and die, you’ll bury me and keep living and remember me fondly. You won’t go mad, I assure you.”
“How can you be so certain?”
She was solemn in her gaze. “You’re not only your father’s child. You’re also your mother’s, as Lucy is. I happen to know she loved her husband much, and when he died, she didn’t go mad. She seems relatively happy and content. I’m also unaware of any history of madness in your family, so I don’t believe it’s hereditary.” She cupped his cheek within her palm. “You have to allow me to love you, if it comes to that. Promise me that much, at least. I believe I’m halfway there already. You are such a re—”