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She slowed, resisting his forward motion. ‘You’re sure you can’t just let me go?’ After his sharp look of a reply, she said softly, ‘I didn’t set out to be foolish or irresponsible. I am sorry to have inadvertently got you involved.’
She swallowed hard, and the tears he saw sparkling at the edge of her lashes hit him like a fist to the chest. How it still distressed him to see her upset!
‘Well, I’m not. Can you imagine the uproar, if you had summoned the watch, and they discovered your identity? Far better for it to be me, whose discretion you can depend upon. If you don’t want to find out what society would say about a duchess wandering around alone on a Mayfair street, we better return you to Ashedon Place as soon as possible, before someone in a passing carriage recognises you.’
When she still resisted, a most unpalatable thought occurred. ‘You...you do trust me not to harm you, don’t you, Faith?’
She uttered a long, slow sigh that further tore at his heart. ‘Of course, I trust you, Davie. Very well, find us a hackney. And you don’t have to hang on to me. I won’t bolt again.’
Without another word, she resumed walking beside him. The energy that had fuelled her flight seemed to have drained out of her; head lowered, shoulders slumping, she looked...beaten, and weary.
Good thing he had to be mindful that some ton notable might at any minute drive by, else he might not have been able to resist the strong impulse to pick her up and carry her. After a few more minutes of brisk walking, they arrived at a hackney stand where, fortunately, a vehicle waited. Still not entirely believing he was accompanying his Faith—no, the widowed Duchess of Ashedon, he corrected himself, never his—he helped her in, guiding her back on to the seat.
After rapping on the panel to signal the driver to start, Davie looked back at the Duchess. ‘Are you all right? They didn’t hurt you? What about your knees? You took quite a fall.’ If they had harmed her, he’d track them down and take them apart limb from limb.
‘No,’ she said in a small voice. ‘I was frightened, and furious; my arm got twisted, but I’ve nothing more than bruises. I think I landed a few good kicks, too.’
‘Thank heaven for that! Before we get back to Berkeley Square, can you tell me how you ended up alone on the street at this time of night?’
‘Can’t you just let me return, and spare the exposition?’
He studied the outline of her profile in the light of the carriage lamps. ‘I don’t mean to pry. But finding you alone, practically in the middle of the night—well, it’s disturbing. Something isn’t right. I’d like to help fix it, if I can.’
To his further distress, the remark brought tears back to her eyes. ‘Ah, Davie. You’ve always wanted to make things better, haven’t you? Compelled to fix everything—government, Parliament, society. But this can’t be fixed.’
She looked so worn and miserable, Davie ached to pull her into his arms. Nothing new about that; he’d ached to hold her since he’d first seen her, more than ten years ago. Sister-in-law of a marquess, she’d been almost as unattainable then as she was now, as the widow of a duke.
Unfortunately, that hadn’t kept him from falling in love with her, or loving her all the years since.
‘What happened?’ he asked quietly. ‘What upset you so much, you had to escape into the night?’
She remained silent, her expression not just weary, but almost...despairing. While he hesitated, torn between respecting her privacy and the compulsion to right whatever was wrong in her universe, at last, she shrugged. ‘I might as well tell you, I suppose. It wasn’t some stupid wager, though, if that’s what you’re thinking.’
‘I’m sure it wasn’t. You may have been high-spirited and carefree as a girl, but you were never a brainless ninny, or a daredevil.’
‘Was I high-spirited and carefree? Maybe I was, once. It’s been so long.’
Her dull voice and lifeless eyes ratcheted his concern up even further. Granted, these two unlikely friends had grown apart in the years since the idyllic summer they’d met, he twenty and serving his first stint as secretary to Sir Edward Greaves, she a golden-haired, sixteen-year-old sprite paying a long visit to her cousin, Sir Edward’s wife. But even on the occasions he’d seen her since her marriage, her eyes had still held that warmth and joy for life that had so captured his heart the first time he set eyes on her.
‘You were carefree,’ he affirmed. ‘Which makes the fact that I found you alone on the street, seeking transport home, even more troubling. What drove you to it?’
‘Ever since Ashedon’s death—by the way, thank you for your kind note of condolence—his mother, the Dowager Duchess, has been making noises about how she must support “the poor young Duchess and her darling boys” and see that the “tragic young Duke” receives the guidance necessary for his elevated status in life. A month ago, she made good on her threat and moved herself back into Ashedon Place. She’s been wanting to do so for years, but though his mother doted on him, Ashedon knew how interfering she is and wouldn’t allow it. It’s enough that I must tolerate the sweetly contemptuous comments of other society matrons at all those boring, insipid evenings I’ve come to hate! Now, I have to live with the Dowager’s carping and criticism as well, every day. Then, tonight, when I accompanied her to the party she insisted we attend, I discovered her younger son, my brother-in-law Lord Randall, was there. When he caught me alone in the hallway on my way to the ladies’ retiring room and tried to force a kiss on me, I’d had enough. I knew the Dowager wasn’t ready to leave, and would never believe anything derogatory about her precious son, so there was no hope of persuading her to summon the carriage. But remaining was intolerable, so I decided to walk towards Oxford Street and look for a hackney.’
She gave a little sigh, the sadness of it piercing his heart. ‘Ashedon and his doxies were bad enough, and now this. Sometimes I don’t think I can bear it any longer.’
His heart ached for the gentle spirit whose girlish dreams of being loved and cherished had been slowly crushed under the heel of her husband’s indifference, leaving her trapped, a lonely and neglected wife. As Davie was trapped in his place, unable to help her.
Except, always, to be a friend.
To his dismay, the tears he’d seen on her lashes earlier began to silently slip down her cheeks. Putting up a hand to try to mask them, she turned away.
And then, somehow, she was in his arms, cradled against his chest. She clung to him and he clutched her tightly, almost ready to bless the ruffians he’d rescued her from, for without that incident, the marvel of holding her would never have been his. It was a dream come true; oh, far better than any dream, to feel the softness of her pressed against him, her lavender scent filling his nostrils, her silky blonde curls under his chin. He could die right now, and be content, for he would never get any closer to heaven.
And if his body burned to possess her fully, he rebuked it. He’d never expected to have even this much bliss; he’d not ask for more.
Inevitably and all too soon, she got herself back under control, and pulled away.
Letting her go, when all he wanted was to hold her for ever, was the hardest thing he’d ever done.
‘Sorry,’ she said gruffly. ‘Usually I’m not so poor-spirited.’
‘Don’t be sorry. I’m only glad I was here, to stand your friend.’
‘My friend. I have few enough of those. I did try to be careful tonight, I assure you! I suppose...I suppose I was just too tired and preoccupied, because I never noticed the two men who must have followed me. They seemed to appear out of nowhere.’
Davie shook his head with a shudder. ‘I’m only glad I happened along. What they might have done to you, I don’t even want to contemplate.’
She nodded. ‘They threatened to take me to a brothel. Could they drag a woman there against her will, or were they just trying to frighten me?’
‘I’m afraid it’s quite possible. A little laudanum, and you might have awakened to find yourself locked in a room in some den of vice somewhere,’ he answered grimly.
‘Except for not seeing my sons again, I’m not sure I’d have cared. I thought of leaving Ashedon, oh, so many times! But I couldn’t have taken my boys with me—legally, they belonged to him, of course, and Edward is the heir. Though I saw little enough of them; the Duke didn’t think children should be spoiled by having their mother dote on them. Now that he’s gone, I’ve tried to alter that, though I must continually fight against the Dowager and their tutor to do it. As long as I get to be with my boys, one way or another, I will endure it—for now, anyway.’
‘Have you talked with your family, your sisters? Do they know how unhappy you are?’
She smiled wryly. ‘I...I’m not that close to them any more. The Duke actively discouraged me from seeing my family at the beginning of our marriage. Silly me, I thought it was because he wanted me all to himself. Which he did, in a way. He didn’t want anyone around who might interfere with his authority. So over the years, we...drifted further and further apart. As you and I did.’
He nodded. ‘I’m sure they regret that as much as I do. Could you not try to re-establish ties?’
‘I suppose. But there isn’t anything they can do to help me, either. Most of the time I manage better.’ She tried to summon a smile for him. ‘It’s only rarely that I feel as if I’ll...burst out of my skin if I don’t get away from all of it.’
‘As you did tonight.’
‘As I did tonight.’
He looked at her, frowning. ‘At the moment, I don’t have any clever ideas on how to make things better. But will you promise me something?’
‘What?’ she asked, tilting her head at him with an enquiring look, and instantly, he was catapulted back into the memories.
How many times that summer had she gazed up at him just like that, her eager mind probing further into whatever they were discussing—poetry, politics, agriculture? As if the whole world excited and enthralled her, and she could not learn enough about it.
Fury fired in him again to realise how much of that joy had been squeezed out of her.
Suppressing the anger, he replied, ‘The next time you feel you cannot stand it a minute longer, please, don’t go wandering around the streets by yourself! Send me a note; I’ll meet you somewhere, anywhere, and we can talk. You’re not alone, Faith. You’ll never be alone, while I still draw breath. Promise me?’
She studied him for a moment. ‘You mean that?’
‘Of course. I never say anything I don’t mean.’
She nodded, the faintest of smiles on her lips. ‘Yes, I remember that about you. And how you were always a loyal friend. Very well, I promise.’
‘Good,’ he said, troubled still, but feeling a bit better about her situation. ‘We should be at Berkeley Square shortly, which is fortunate—especially if your mother-in-law noticed you were gone, and rushed home to find you.’
She shrugged. ‘She’d probably rejoice to have me gone. Except, she’d no longer have so ready a target for her complaints.’
‘You’re just weary. Everything will look better in the morning, when you’re rested.’
‘Will it?’ She smiled. ‘Maybe for a man who’s set out to change the world. I do hear some of what you’re accomplishing, by the way, even in the wilderness of the ton. Not that anyone talks about it to me directly, of course—politics being too intellectually challenging for a woman. No, we are left to discuss trimming bonnets, managing servants, and perhaps, if we’ve very bold, speculating about who might make the best lover, or which dancer in the Green Room has become the latest mistress of which nobleman.’
He grimaced. ‘There could be so much more than that! As you doubtless know, my friend Giles Hadley, Viscount Lyndlington, recently married Lady Margaret Roberts. She has played political hostess to her father, Lord Witlow, for years; not only does she understand politics, she and her father frequently bring together the best minds in government, science and art to debate all manner of topics at their “discussion evenings”.’
‘That sounds wonderful—and so much more stimulating that anything I get to experience. Unless...’ Her dull eyes brightened. ‘Did you really mean what you said, about meeting me? ‘
‘Didn’t I already answer that?’
‘Then...would you meet me tomorrow afternoon? I usually drive with the Dowager during the Promenade Hour in Hyde Park, but after tonight, I would rather not endure the hour-long lecture she will surely subject me to about my improper behaviour in leaving that wretched party. Would you meet me instead—at Gunter’s, perhaps? No one we know should be there at that hour, so we won’t be disturbed. I would love to hear more about what you are doing in Parliament. Perhaps I will even understand it.’
He ought to be in committee meetings, but when she looked at him with that appeal in her eyes, he’d have agreed to miss the final vote on the bill. ‘Yes, I’ll meet you there.’
The carriage slowed, indicating they were about to reach their destination. Davie felt a stab of disappointment; he could have ridden about London, talking with Faith, all night.
Bowing to the inevitable, he hopped out as the vehicle stopped and reached up to hand her down. ‘I’ll wait until you’re safely inside,’ he said as she descended.
‘Very well.’ She took a step towards the front door, then stopped, as if she couldn’t quite bring herself to re-enter the Duchess’s realm. Turning back to him, she went up on tiptoe and gave him a quick kiss on his jaw.
While his heart stuttered, then raced in his chest, she said, ‘Thank you, Davie. For your rescue, and much more. For the first time in a long time, I have a “tomorrow” I can look forward to.’
As did he, he thought as she ran up the steps. The privilege of escorting her about probably wouldn’t last long. He intended to relish every second.
Chapter Two (#ulink_1d77ba35-af44-529e-8378-cd1772e3acd9)
The following afternoon, after dispatching a note to her mother-in-law, a late riser who had not yet left her rooms, informing her a previous engagement would prevent her driving to the Park, Faith let her maid put the finishing touches to her coiffure. ‘There, madame,’ Yvette said, her eyes shining with pride. ‘Who could find fault with such an angel?’
‘A great many,’ Faith muttered. But knowing the soft-hearted girl was only trying to encourage her, she gave her a smile. ‘The new arrangement is lovely. Have you a name for it?’
‘Trône de la Reine,’ the maid replied. ‘And comme ça accord, madame!’
‘Thank you. I shall be the loveliest lady present.’ Thankfully, not at the Park, Faith added silently as she descended to the hackney the butler had summoned, her spirits buoyed by knowing she’d not have to grit her teeth while the Dowager recited the long litany of offences she’d committed last night. Instead, anticipation rising at the thought, she would have Davie to talk to.
She’d missed the company of the young man to whom she’d grown even closer than she was to her sisters during the time she’d spent as a guest of her cousin, stretching a visit planned for a month into a summer-long idyll. His calm counsel, his stimulating ideas and his zeal to create a better future had inspired and excited her. Truth to tell, she’d fancied herself a bit in love with him by the time she’d been summoned home to prepare for her upcoming Season.
Only too aware that he was no fitting match for a daughter of one of the oldest families in England, she’d nonetheless hoped she might share with him some of her thoughts and observations of London, but he’d remained at Oxford during her Season. Instead, mesmerised by the Duke’s assiduous and flattering attentions, envied by every other unmarried female on the Marriage Mart and their resentful mamas, she’d allowed herself to believe she’d fallen as much in love with her noble suitor as he had with her.
Why had she never noticed how cold and calculating his eyes were, compared to the warmth and compassion in Davie’s?
Far too late to regret that now.
With a sigh, Faith let the footman hand her into the carriage. Glancing back towards the shuttered windows of the town house, she felt a pang of foreboding. She was likely to draw enough fire for not attending her mother-in-law’s daily ride through the Park; were the woman to learn Faith missed that important event to associate with a man so far beneath her station, she’d be harangued for a month.
Still, it was time to wrench herself out of the influence of her mother-in-law and the misery that evoked. The Dowager had no real control over her; without the dictates of a husband to prevent it, she could involve herself more in the wider world.
Just talking with Davie, she knew, would help her do that. With each street that brought their rendezvous closer, her excitement and anticipation grew.
* * *
At last the carriage arrived, Faith so impatient she could hardly wait for the vehicle to stop before climbing down and hurrying into the establishment. She spotted Davie immediately, seated in an alcove on the far side of the room. The appreciation on his face as she approached his table made her glad she’d decided to wear the new grey gown that flattered her figure and showed her complexion to advantage.
‘Duchess, what a pleasant surprise,’ he said, rising and giving her a bow. ‘How lovely you look!’
‘How kind you are, Mr Smith,’ she replied. ‘Though as a mother of three, I’m afraid I’ve lost the bloom of youth you probably remember.’
‘Nonsense, it would take more than a brace of boys to erase that,’ he replied, helping her to a seat. ‘Tea? Or would you prefer ices?’
‘Tea, please.’
After sending the waiter off for refreshments, he looked back to study her.
‘You do look rested. Truly fresh as a young girl, and not at all like the venerable mother of three.’
She laughed. ‘I’d hoped for more children, but with three boys making the succession secure, Ashedon...lost interest.’ Or had he kept mistresses all along, and she’d just been too stupid to notice? ‘Somehow, growing up with a brother and all those sisters, I expected when I had a family of my own, I’d be surrounded by children. But as their mother, I spend much of the day in my world, and they in the nursery, in theirs.’
Davie chuckled. ‘Unlike growing up in a farm family, where the children are underfoot all day, learning from their mamas or doing chores for their papas. Close even at night, stuffed as they are in the loft just above the main room, like sausage in a casing! Maybe you should have been a simple farmer’s wife.’
‘Maybe I should have.’
She looked up into his eyes, those kind eyes she remembered so well—and suddenly, saw a flash of heat there, so intense and sudden it shook her.
It shook her even more to feel an answering heat from deep within. Suddenly she was brought back to last night, where despite her fatigue and misery, she’d been intensely aware of being held against his chest.
His broad, solid chest. The tall, rangy youth she’d known had grown into a tall, well-muscled, physically impressive man. Not fitting the wasp-waisted, whip-thin dandy profile now so popular among society’s gentlemen, he was instead big, sturdy, and solid, built more like a...a medieval knight, or a boxer. Strong, powerful, and imposing.
For a time, while he held her, she’d felt—safe, and at peace. If she were still the naïve and trusting girl she’d once been, she might even have said ‘cherished’.
But that was merely an illusion born of need and wishful thinking.
Still, she hadn’t mistaken the desire she’d just seen in his eyes before he masked it, nor the physical response he evoked in her. That unexpected attraction would...complicate a renewal of their friendship, yet at the same time, she was fiercely glad of it. The realisation that he wanted her was a balm to her battered self-esteem, reviving a sense she’d nearly lost of herself as a desirable woman.
She cleared her throat nervously. Welcome as it was, the unexpected sensual tension humming between them was so unexpected, and she had so little experience dealing with it, she felt suddenly awkward. ‘Thank you for meeting me,’ she said at last. ‘I was so relieved not to have to ride in the Park today and feel all those eyes on me, while the Dowager harangued.’
‘I suppose that’s the price of being a Duchess. You will always be the focus of attention, wherever you go and whatever you do.’
She wrinkled her nose. ‘Yes, and it’s so distasteful. I don’t know why that fact didn’t occur to me before I wed a duke, but it didn’t. I’ve never enjoyed the attention.’ She sighed. ‘Especially as Ashedon and his women provided so much scandal for society to watch my reaction to.’
His jaw tightened and a fierce look came over his face before he burst out, ‘Your husband was a fool! Even if I shouldn’t say it.’
Gratified, she smiled sadly. ‘I didn’t mind him being a fool. I just minded that he never loved me. But I didn’t come today to whine about poor, neglected little me. I want to hear about something of real importance. Tell me of your work! I always hoped we would maintain our friendship, but after the wedding, and with you at Oxford...I do know that, with Sir Edward and my cousin Nicky’s support, you were elected MP from Hazelwick shortly after leaving university. And I seem to remember something about “Hadley’s Hellions”? What was that?’
He chuckled. ‘Fortunately for a commoner like me, I met Giles Hadley soon after arriving at Oxford. As I imagine you know, although he’s Viscount Lyndlington, until very recently he’d been estranged from his father, the earl. After growing up in an isolated cottage, he didn’t form friendships with anyone from the ton, bonding instead when he was sent to Eton with other outsiders—Ben Tawny, the natural son of Viscount Chilford, and Christopher Lattimar, son of Lord Vraux.
