Lucas worked his way upwards through the Palazzo Montillio. On the floors below, his cousins were preparing for the night’s entertainment at the casino they managed and which hosted the elite of Venetian and European society, but on the upper floors everything was still and empty.
He reached the large bedroom at the end of the corridor and sighed. Too empty. He continued his climb through the next floor which was part-storeroom and part-attic and then even further to the wooden staircase that led to the roof. The moment he stepped out he saw her leaning against the stone balustrade, looking out over the mouth of the Grand Canal towards San Marco and the Campanile. Beyond, the sky faded to grey and violet with a hint of the darkening lands beyond. He smiled in appreciation at the tumble of curls that picked up the remnants of the setting sun in the west, a gilded goddess overlooking the city of carnal pleasures. She was wrapped in a dressing gown of brocade silk in the colours of sea and sand, the shimmering material pressed against her by the Adriatic breeze, outlining her body as clearly as any of the marble statues in the Uffizi. It was a beautiful sight, but he would much rather see that gown spread out beneath them on the bed below. As much as he would like to strip her here and make love to her with the view of the city spread out around them, February was not the month for such fanciful gestures.
She turned as he stepped on to the roof, her smile as warm as the setting sun in her hair. He smiled back, a reflexive reaction he had no control over. He had no control over the surge of joy, either. Mine, his body said. Thank God, chorused his mind.
She walked into his arms and he gathered her against him, mapping her with his hands and mouth, a little scared by the force of his need. He had only been absent for a couple of days; that could hardly be considered deprivation.
‘I missed you,’ he said into her curls. Then, a little more dignified, ‘I trust Giovanni and Maria took good care of you in my absence?’
‘Excellent care. Maria thinks I’m too thin and has been working to rectify matters. Soon I shall have to buy a new wardrobe. Or spend my days wearing nothing but dressing gowns like now.’
‘Bless Maria, then. I thoroughly approve of that outcome.’
She laughed, leaning back to look at him. ‘I know we are planning to leave for Egypt, but if you’d rather stay here and help your uncle, do just tell me. I am perfectly content to stay here or go wherever you wish.’
‘Excellent. Downstairs to make use of our bed and then to see what Maria’s cooks have concocted.’
‘Lucas, you know what I mean. The last thing I wish is for you to become bored with your life with me. When you wish to return to your duties with your uncle you have only to say. I admit I am looking forward to being of use...’
‘You do realise my plans before I met you were to spend another dismal winter in Russia? The last time I was in St Petersburg the sun only showed its face for one day out of thirty and that was for less than an hour. I know all about boredom, love. I can safely say that I cannot remember the last time I have lived through a period less boring than this that did not involve something best forgotten. I am happy with you.’
The simple truth of those words still astonished him. She hugged her arms around him, rubbing her cheek against his chest.
‘I am glad, but keep in mind my need to be useful. I have something else I wished to say to you, though. While you were gone Maria took me to the attics.’
‘To the attics? My cousin certainly knows how to entertain...’ His laughter faded at her expression. ‘What is it?’
‘She found a small case with some of your mother’s belongings. Some books and two very lovely fans and a pendant I think Samantha would like, but in one of the books she found a letter. From your father. I recognised the handwriting.’
‘What does it say?’
‘I did not read it, but I did see the date. It is dated the day before the duel.’
She held out her hand and he took it and let her lead him downstairs to their room.
It was a short letter, the handwriting looked a little larger and rounder than he remembered, as if his father had written slowly, etching each word against his will.
My darling Tessa,
I wish you were here. You and Lucas and Chase and Samantha. I need all of you around me—I am not myself without you. I thought it would be easier away from Father and John, but as they have so often said the fault is in me, not them. Clumsy, awkward, I stumble into trouble whether intending to or not.
I certainly never dreamed I would find myself in such straits. I still pray I will wake and discover it was all a dreadful mistake, but I cannot in honour withdraw. You know only too well how that word strikes—coward. I cannot stand down.
Whatever the outcome tomorrow, please forgive me and do not judge me too harshly. With luck I will be with you very soon and perhaps now Father and John are dead we can begin anew, but not at the Hall. Somewhere that is purely ours.
You are and have always been the bright shining star in my life and I am grateful for every moment you have given me.
Your loving, devoted husband,
Howard
He folded the letter and tucked it back into the book. Olivia wrapped her arms around him again and leaned her cheek against his shoulder.
‘Whatever she thought happened there, she could not doubt he loved her.’
‘I don’t think she did,’ he answered, pulling her on to his lap. ‘Thank you, Olivia.’
‘For what? I keep bringing back painful memories. Just when you were happy.’
‘You know better. You do realise that if none of this had happened I never would have met you?’
She leaned back in the circle of his arms, her smile bright with love.
‘I adore how you transform my misdeeds into virtues, Lucas.’
‘I learned that skill from a master, or rather a mistress. Now, I am very glad you found my father’s last letter, but we have more important matters to attend to.’
‘Yes, Giovanni did say the Archduke will be a guest at the casino today and...’
‘I am not the least bit interested in archdukes. I have realised your soul is in peril. I distinctly remember you promised to tell me you love me every day and it has been three whole days since your last profession of adoration. You are in breach of our covenant and so as your knight it falls to me to rescue you.’
‘Not that I wish to question your championing skills, but it is hardly fair to say this is my fault when it was you who was absent.’
‘Don’t split hairs. Wearing nothing but a shift and dressing gown is a good beginning, so I will let you go with only two protestations of your undying love.’ He untied the belt of the robe, sliding his hands up over the gossamer-thin shift underneath. Need, love, lust barrelled through him.
‘Oh, God, I missed you, Livvy. You don’t know how much. I kept telling myself, it is just three days. But it ached like hell. No, not there, here.’ He pressed her hand to his heart. ‘I feel like a damned fool, but I need you to tell me you missed me, that you want me with you.’
She kissed his chest, the harsh striking of his heartbeat magnified by the warmth of her lips, her breath feathering over his skin as she spoke.
‘You are wrong that I am in breach, Lucas. I wrote you two terribly soppy love letters where I was very clear about how much I miss you and need you. Amongst other things.’
‘You did? Where are...?’
‘Later. Actions first, words later... Lucas, my love.’
Whilst you’re waiting for the next instalment of
The Sinful Sinclairs miniseries,
why not check out Lara Temple’s
Wild Lords and Innocent Ladies miniseries?
Lord Hunter’s Cinderella Heiress
Lord Ravenscar’s Inconvenient Betrothal
Lord Stanton’s Last Mistress
Keep reading for an excerpt from Sent as the Viking’s Bride by Michelle Styles.
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