“I love you, he thought, because you are honest with me and because you are willing to speak the truth to me when others might seek to curry favor instead. I love you because you are in this bed with me, not trying to conceive the much-awaited next generation of Windhams, but just holding my hand.
-- Gayle Windham”
“Is this all you want, Anna?” He brought his arms around her and urged her to lean into him. “Merely an embrace? I’ll understand it, if you do.”
“It isn’t merely an embrace,” she replied, loving the feel of his lean muscles and long bones against her body. “It is your embrace, and your scent, and the cadence of your breathing, and the warmth of your hands. To me, there is nothing mere about it.”
“Even when I cried,” she said, a world of resignation in her tone, “I was glad to be here with you, Westhaven. Believe that, if you believe nothing else of me.”
What she had meant was: Even when I cried because I must leave you, I was glad to be here with you… Believe that if you believe nothing else of me when I find the courage to finally go.”
“Tell me now, Anna, he silently pleaded as she ran her finger over a rose petal. Tell me I could have a son, that we could have a son, a daughter, a baby, a future—anything.”
“What exactly do you want to know that you weren’t able to get out of Val?” “Where did you find her? I am in the market for same.” “I lured her to my employ with my endless buckets of charm,” Westhaven said dryly. “You are charming,” Dev said when they were trotting along. “You just can’t afford to be flirtatious, as well.” Westhaven”
“That is a very different sort of housekeeper you have there,” Val said, when the library door had closed behind her. “I know.” Westhaven made a sandwich and checked again to make sure his brother hadn’t pilfered the marzipan. “She’s a little cheeky, to be honest, but does her job with particular enthusiasm. She puts me in mind of Her Grace.” “How so?” Val asked, making a sandwich, as well. “Has an indomitable quality about her,” Westhaven said between bites. “She bashed me with a poker when she thought I was a caller molesting a housemaid. Put out my lights, thank you very much.” “Heavens.” Val paused in his chewing. “You didn’t summon the watch?” “The appearances were deceiving, and she doesn’t know I’d never trifle with a housemaid.” “And if you were of a mind to before,” Val said, eyeing the marzipan, “you’d sure as hell think twice about it now.”
“I am all too willing to cut corners, to take a dodgy course, to use my consequence at any turn, but you are the opposite. You would not shirk a responsibility if God Almighty gave you leave to do so. I am telling you, in the absence of the Almighty’s availability: Do not marry her out of pity or duty or a misguided sense you want a woman in debt to you before you marry her. Marry her because you can’t see the rest of your life without her and you know she feels the same way.” “You are telling me to marry for love,” Westhaven concluded, bemused and touched. “I am, and you will please tell your mother I said so, for I am much in need of her good graces these days, and this will qualify as perhaps the only good advice I’ve ever given you.”
“You should be napping,” his wife chided. “Westhaven was behaving peculiarly.” “Oh?” The duke slipped an arm around his wife’s waist. “How so?” “He walked in, kissed my cheek, and said, ‘His Grace has advised me to marry for love,’ then left. Not like him at all.” The duchess frowned. “Are you feeling well, Percy?” “Keeps his word, that boy.” The duke smiled. “I am feeling better, Esther, and we did a good job with Westhaven. Knows his duty, he does, and will make a fine duke.” Her Grace kissed his cheek. “More to the point, he makes a fine son, and he will make an even better papa.”
“What?” “Marry her,” Dev said flatly. “She’s too pretty to be a housekeeper and too well spoken to be a doxy. She won’t be cowed by His Grace, and she’ll keep you in fresh linens and good food all your days.” “Dev?” Westhaven cocked his head. “Are you serious?” “I am. You have to marry, Westhaven. I would spare you that if I could, but there it is. This one will do admirably, and she’s better bred than the average housekeeper, I can tell you that.” “How can you tell me that?” “Her height for one thing,” Dev said as they made for the house. “The peasantry are rarely tall, and they never have such good teeth. Her diction is flawless, not simply adequate. Her skin is that of lady, as are her manners. And look at her hands, man. It remains true you can tell a lady by her hands, and those are the hands of a lady.” Westhaven frowned, saying nothing. Those were the very observations he had made of Anna while they rusticated at Amery’s. She was a lady, for all her wielding of dusters and wearing of caps. “And yet she says her grandfather was in trade,” Westhaven noted when they arrived to the kitchen. “He raised flowers commercially, and she bouquets the house with a vengeance. We’re also boasting a very well-stocked pantry and a supply of marzipan for me. The sweet of your choice will be stocked, as well, as I won’t take kindly to your pinching mine.” “Heaven forefend,” Dev muttered as Westhaven procured a fistful of cookies.”
“Shall we walk? Pericles will stand there until Domesday or he eats every blade of grass at his feet.” The earl handed her down then released the checkrein so the horse could graze for a few minutes. “He takes his victuals seriously,” Anna said. “To any Windham male, victuals are of significant import.” “Good thing I brought a very full hamper, then, isn’t it?”
“He was a what?” The earl was still frowning and still pondering the duke’s revelations regarding Anna’s decline. “Eight-months’ wonder.” The duke nodded sagely. “Ask any papa, and he’ll tell you a proper baby takes nine and half months to come full term, first babies sometimes longer. Bart was a little early, as Her Grace could not contain her enthusiasm for me.” “Her Grace could not…?” The earl felt his ears turn red as the significance of his father’s words sunk in. “Fine basis for a marriage,” the duke went on blithely. “What? You think all ten children were exclusively my fault? You have much to learn, my lad. Much to learn.”
“Shall we stroll in the moonlight?” “Brother”—Dev grinned—“I have heard rumors about you.” “No doubt,” Val said easily as they moved off. “They are nothing compared to what one hears about you.” “And that gossip is usually true,” Dev said with no modesty whatsoever as they neared the mews. “Now why are we out here stumbling around in the night?” Val turned and regarded his brother in the moonlight. “So I can remind you not to make disparaging remarks about Mrs. Seaton or her situation with Westhaven where anybody could overhear you. You know what the duke tried to do with the last mistress?” “I’d heard about Elise. Then you are aware of a situation between Westhaven and Mrs. Seaton?” “He’s considering marrying her,” Val said. “Or I think he is. They’re certainly interested in each other.” “They’re a bit more than interested,” Dev said, rubbing his chin. “They were all but working on the succession when I came upon them in the library last night.” “Ye gods. I came upon them in her sitting room this afternoon, door open, all hands in view, but the way they look at each other… puts one in mind of besotted sheep.” “His Grace will be in alt,” Dev said on a sigh. “His Grace,” Val retorted, “had best not get wind of it, unless you want Westhaven to immediately lose all interest.” “Gayle wouldn’t be that stupid, but he would be that stubborn.” Dev tossed a companionable arm around Val’s shoulders. “This will be entertaining as hell, don’t you think? I’m not sure Westhaven’s wooing is entirely well received, and he has to go about it in stealth, winning the lady without alerting the duke. And we have front-row seats.” “Lucky us,” Val rejoined. “Doesn’t working on the succession comport with welcoming a man’s suit?” Dev’s grin became devilish. “That, my boy, is a common misunderstanding among the besotted male sheep of this world. And the female sheep? They like us befuddled, you know…”
“What have I done, Anna, to earn your use of my title?” “I cannot be sure we are private,” she said then blinked at her tactical error. “And I do not believe such familiarity wise.” “Ah.” He backed away, leaning on the desk, arms crossed. “Shall we discuss this change of heart on your part? You’ve been avoiding me since we got back to Town, and don’t think to tell me otherwise.” “You are no longer ill,” she said, raising her chin. “And you are capable of dressing yourself.” “Barely,” he said with a snort. “So tell me, how am I to court you if you won’t stay in the same room with me? How am I to persuade you to marry me if you maneuver always to have others present when I am about? You aren’t playing fair, Anna.” She”
“I WASN’T AWARE THE LADIES got a turn at the proposing. I thought it was up to us stalwart lads to risk rejection and to do the actual asking.” “We can take first crack,” the earl said, his finger tracing the rim of his glass, “but I took first through fifth, and that means it’s her turn.” “I’m sure you’ll explain this mystery to me, as I hope at some point to put an end to my dreary bachelor existence,” Dev murmured, taking a long swallow of his drink. The earl smiled almost tenderly. “With Anna, I proposed, explaining to her she should marry me because I am titled and wealthy and so on.” “That would be persuasive to most any lady I know, except the lady you want.” “Precisely. So I went on to demonstrate she should marry me because I am, though the term will make you blush, lusty enough to bring her a great deal of pleasure.” “I’d marry you for that reason,” Dev rejoined, “or I would if, well… It’s a good argument.” “It is, if you are a man, but on Anna, the brilliance of my logic was lost. So I proposed again and suggested I could make her troubles disappear, then failed utterly to make good on my word.” “Bad luck, that.”
“He shied off that fence and turned his mind to Anna’s virtual admission she was in trouble. That was progress, he decided. From bearing confidences, to being in trouble. Dev had been right, and it meant Westhaven had to take a little more seriously Anna’s threats to leave him. What kind of trouble would a young, pretty, gently reared housekeeper have? She”
“Well, Papa,” he muttered into the night, “I cannot see the rest of my life without her, but alas, I am certain the sentiment is not reciprocated.” A”
“I am angry, Anna.” The earl rose again. “I fear diplomacy is beyond me.” “Are you angry with me?” “Oh, I want to be,” he assured her, his gaze raking her up and down. “I want to be furious, to turn you over my knee and paddle you until my hand hurts, to shake you and rant and treat the household to a tantrum worthy of His Grace.” “I am sorry.” Anna’s gaze dropped to the carpet. “I am not angry with you,” the earl said gravely, “but your brother and his crony will have much to answer for.” “You are disappointed in me.” “I am concerned for you,” the earl said tiredly. “So concerned I am willing to seek the aid of His Grace, and to pull every string and call in every favor the old man can spare me. Just one thing, Anna?” She met his gaze, looking as though she was prepared to hear the worst: Pack your things, get out of my sight, give me back those glowing characters. “Be here when I get back,” the earl said with deadly calm. “And expect to have a long talk with me when this is sorted out.” She nodded. He waited to see if she had anything else to add, any arguments, conditions, or demurrals, but for once, his Anna apparently had the sense not to fight him. He turned on his heel and left before she could second guess herself.”
“My lords.” She curtsied but came up frowning at Westhaven. “Forgive me if I note you rise slowly. Are you well?” The earl glanced at his brother repressively. “My brother is not in good health?” Val asked, grinning. “Do tell.” “I merely suffered a little bump on the head,” the earl said, “and Mrs. Seaton spared me the attentions of the physicians.” Mrs. Seaton was still frowning, but the earl went on, forestalling her reply. “You may tend to your flowers, Mrs. Seaton, and I echo my brother’s compliments: Tea is most pleasant.”
“Hazlit has pointed out I could protect Anna by simply marrying her. Would you and Her Grace receive her?” In a display of tact that would have made the duchess proud and quite honestly impressed Westhaven, the duke leaned over and topped off both tea cups. “I put this question to your mother,” the duke admitted, “as my own judgment, according to my sons, is not necessarily to be trusted. I will tell you what Her Grace said, because I think it is the best answer: We trust you to choose wisely, and if Anna Seaton is your choice, we will be delighted to welcome her into the family. Your mother, after all, was not my father’s choice and no more highly born than your Anna.” “So you would accept her.” “We would, but Gayle?” His father had not referred to him by name since Bart’s death, and Westhaven found he had to look away. “You are a decent fellow,” the duke went on, “too decent, I sometimes think. I know, I know.” He waved a hand. “I am all too willing to cut corners, to take a dodgy course, to use my consequence at any turn, but you are the opposite. You would not shirk a responsibility if God Almighty gave you leave to do so. I am telling you, in the absence of the Almighty’s availability: Do not marry her out of pity or duty or a misguided sense you want a woman in debt to you before you marry her. Marry her because you can’t see the rest of your life without her and you know she feels the same way.” “You are telling me to marry for love,” Westhaven concluded, bemused and touched. “I am, and you will please tell your mother I said so, for I am much in need of her good graces these days, and this will qualify as perhaps the only good advice I’ve ever given you.” “The only good advice?” Westhaven countered. “Wasn’t it you who told me to let Dev pick out my horses for me? You who said Val shouldn’t be allowed to join up to keep an eye on Bart? You who suggested the canal project?” “Even a blind hog finds an acorn now and then,” the duke quipped. “Or so my brother Tony reminds me.”
“How are you really?” The bright, mendacious smile faltered. “I am coping,” she said, staring out across the beds of flowers. “I wake up sometimes and don’t know where I am. I think I must see to your lemonade for the day or wonder if you’re already in the park on Pericles, and then I realize I am not your housekeeper anymore. I am not your anything anymore, and the future is this great, yawning, empty unknown I can fill with what? Flowers?” She offered that smile, but he couldn’t bear the sight of it and pulled her against his chest. “If you need anything,” he said, holding her against him, “anything, Anna James. You have only to send me word.” She said nothing, clinging to him for one long desperate moment before stepping back and nodding. “Your word, Anna James,” he ordered sternly. “You have my word,” she said, smile tremulous but genuine. “If I am in any difficulties whatsoever, I will call on you.” The”
“Esther.” He nuzzled her crown. “I find I am fully recovered.” “This is amazing,” his wife replied, “as you have neither a medical degree nor powers of divination.” “True.” He nuzzled her again. “But two things are restored to me that indicate my health is once again sound.” “And these would be?” the duchess inquired as she watched Westhaven take a polite leave of Miss James. The duke frowned at his son’s retreating back. “The first is a nigh insatiable urge to meddle in that boy’s affairs. Devlin and Valentine dragooned me into a shared tea pot, and for once, we three are in agreement over something.” “It’s about time.” “You don’t mind if I take a small hand in things?” the duke asked warily. “I am ready to throttle them both.” The duchess sighed, leaning into her husband. “And I suspect the girl is breeding and doesn’t even know it.” “St. Just is of like mind. He and Val all but asked me what I intend to do about it.” “You will think of something. I have every faith in you, Percy.” “Good to know.” “What was the second piece of evidence confirming your restored health?” “Come upstairs with me, my love, and I will explain it to you in detail.”
“But did His Grace intimate Anna had that on-the-nest look about her?” “And what would you know about an on-the-nest look?” “I breed horses for a living,” Dev reminded him. “I can tell when a mare’s caught, because she gets this dreamy, inward, secret look in her eye. She’s peaceful but pleased with herself, too. I think you are in anticipation of a blessed event, Westhaven.” “I think I am, too,” Westhaven said. “Pass me the decanter.”
“And it was home, he thought, not because he owned the building or paid the people who worked there, nor even because he dwelled here with his brothers. It was home because Anna was here, waiting for him. Waiting to care for him, not expecting him—hell, not really even allowing him—to care for her, solve her problems, and tell her how to go on. I love you, he thought, watching her pull a daisy from the bouquet in the middle of the table and put it in a bud vase on his tray. When she brought the tray to the table and set it down, he put his arms around her waist and pressed his face to her abdomen.”
“So you are done proposing?” Dev sipped his drink. “I am. I forgot to propose for the one reason that might have won the prize.” “That being?” “She loves me.” Westhaven smiled wistfully. “She cannot bear to think of the rest of her life without me.” “That reason.” Dev nodded sagely. “I will remember that one, as it would not have occurred to me either. Do you think it will occur to Anna?” “I hope to God it does.” The earl took a long pull of his drink. “I cannot make a move at this point unless she invites it.” “Why not? Why not just ride out there, special license in hand, and lay down the law? You haven’t tried that approach. You can name it after me, the Devlin St. Just Proposal of Marriage Option Number Seven.” “Dev, I fear you are getting a bit foxed.” “A bit, and I am not even the one trying to drown my sorrows. Am I not the best of brothers?” “The very best,” the earl agreed, his smile carrying a wealth of affection.”
“They fell silent, sitting side by side, until Anna felt the earl’s hand steal over hers to rest there. “Today, I am going to call you Anna, and you are going to permit me to do so, please? We will be congenial with each other and forget I am the earl and you are my housekeeper. We will enjoy a pleasant morning in the country, Anna, with none of your frowning and scolding. This is agreeable to you?” “We will share a lovely morning in the country,” Anna agreed, wanting nothing so much as to start that morning by letting her head rest against his shoulder. It was a wicked impulse and would give him all the wrong ideas. “And seal our agreement”—the earl shifted to stand before her—“with a kiss.” He gave her time to wiggle off the hook, to hop down off the stile and dash past him, to deliver a little lecture even, but she sat, still as a mouse, while he framed her face with his bare hands and brought his lips to hers. He propped one booted foot on the stile and leaned over her as his mouth settled fully over hers. While”
“As if summoned by magic, Val strode through the door, his expression bleak, his gaze riveted on the decanter. “There’s good news and bad news,” Dev said as he slid his drink into Val’s hand. “The good news is we are going to be uncles again, God willing. The bad news is that so far, Westhaven’s firstborn will be taking after me rather than the legitimate side of the family.” “And this is bad news, how?” Val asked. Dev grinned. “Is he not the best of little brothers?” “The very best,” the earl agreed, pouring them all another round.”
“He was to be a father, a papa, and she was to be the mother of his child. His children, God willing.”
“He slipped off the bench and took her right hand in both of his as he went down on one knee before her. “I love you,” he said, holding her gaze. “I love you, I cannot foresee the rest of my life without you, and I hope you feel similarly. For only if you do feel similarly will I accept your proposal of marriage or allow you to accept mine.” “You love me?” “For God’s sake.” He was off his knee in an instant, dusting briskly at his breeches. “Why else would I have tried to keep my bloody paws off you when you were just eight and twenty feet down the hall? Why else would I have gone to my father—Meddling Moreland himself?—to ask for help and advice? Why else would I have let you go, for pity’s sake, if I didn’t love you until I’m blind and silly and… Jesus, yes, I love you.” “Westhaven.” Anna reached out and stroked a hand through his hair. “You are shouting, and you mean this.” “I am not in the habit of lying to the woman whom I hope to make my duchess.” That, he saw, got through to her. Since the day she’d bashed him with her poker, he’d been honest with her. Cranky, gruff, demanding, what have you, but he’d been honest. So he was honest again. “I love you, Anna.” His voice shook with the truth of it. “I love you. I want you for my wife, my duchess, and the mother of all of my children.” She cradled her hand along his jaw, and in her eyes, he saw his own joy mirrored, his incredulity that life could offer him a gift as stunningly perfect as the love they shared, and his bottomless determination to grab that gift with both hands and never let go. She leaned into him, as if the weight of his honesty were too much. “Oh, you are the most awful man. Of course I will marry you, of course I love you, of course I want to spend the rest of my life with you. But you have made me cry, and I have need of your handkerchief.” “You have need of my arms,” he said, laughing and scooping her up against his chest. He pressed his forehead to hers and jostled her a little in his embrace. “Say it, Anna. In the King’s English, or no handkerchief for you.” He was smiling at her, grinning like a truant schoolboy on a beautiful day. “I love you,” Anna said. Then more loudly and with a fierce smile, “I love you, I love you, I love you, Gayle Windham, and I would be honored to be your duchess.” “And my wife?” He spun them in a circle, the better to hold her tightly to his chest. “You’ll be my wife, and my duchess, and the mother of my children?” “With greatest joy, I’ll be your wife, your duchess, and the mother of all your children. Now please, please, put me down and kiss me silly. I have missed you so.”
“You will make me work for it, won’t you?” Westhaven said with a faint smile. He pushed away from the desk and approached her silently. “That’s as it should be.” His arms closed around her, and Anna just bowed her head, knowing even more than his kisses and his wicked caresses, the comfort of his embrace had the power to paralyze her. He was warm, vital, and strong, and while it wasn’t his aim to protect her, the illusion that he could was irresistible. “Let me hold you,” he whispered, “or I’ll have a relapse of the chicken pox to inspire you to closer attendance of me.” “You can’t have a relapse.” “Actually, I can,” he murmured, his hands easing over her back, “but Fairly says it’s quite rare. Relax, Anna, I just want to feel you in my arms, hmm?” She”
“What she had meant was: Even when I cried because I must leave you, I was glad to be here with you… Believe that if you believe nothing else of me when I find the courage to finally go. The”
“LIEUTENANT COLONEL ROBIN “Tin Eye” Stephens, the commander of Camp 020, Britain’s secret interrogation center for captured enemy spies, had a very specialized skill: He broke people. He crushed them, psychologically, into very small pieces and then, if he thought it worthwhile, he would put them back together again. He”
“Your birth is a mistake you'll spend your whole life trying to correct.”
“familiar; she must be a neighbour of the Wisters, I muse, as Mrs Nesbitt runs on: ‘There is her sister Meribelle, never married. Unsurprising. She’s a dear girl but has the gift of”
“They are never really dead, these super criminals”
“Appearances can be deceptive. Just because someone has a generous chest and a romantic nature doesn't mean they're EASY.”
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