CHAPTER 22

It was a week later, the night before the duke and duchess’s combined and now quite sizable entourage would travel into Savannah, first thing in the morning, from River’s End and board a steamship on which Mr. Milton, at the duke’s behest, had booked their passage back to England. The tedious packing had been done by Rosanna and Hornsby, with Victoria’s and Spencer’s help … until they’d been dismissed. The result of all the lady’s maid’s and the valet’s labor was an incredible mound of traveling trunks and soft-sided bags downstairs to be loaded tomorrow morning onto the heavy dray wagons.

As the Redmonds could not be dissuaded—they would all three of them accompany the traveling party to the docks—every River’s End carriage and driver had been pressed into service to transport them all. The slower drays, carrying the luggage, would leave earlier than the party itself, just to ensure no tardiness, which could cause them to miss the ship or have to leave their luggage behind. Absolutely unthinkable.

But that was tomorrow. Sweetly sated from their lovemaking, Victoria still had the rest of tonight alone with her husband … in bed. Following many days of his pleading, and her ignoring him, she had finally forgiven him for his shocking ploy—admittedly brilliant but hardly endearing—of offering her life to Loyal Atherton in exchange for Edward’s. With the entire household’s nerves on edge, finally, her father—dubbing Spencer “you poor bastard”—had taken the distraught man aside and held a closed-door discussion with him. Mr. Redmond, a man more senior in these matters, had evidently told Spencer to spend every penny he owned until his wife was happy.

He was also advised to grovel on his damned knees, if necessary, to appease her. Otherwise, he could expect many nights of sleeping alone and just as many days of a veritable living hell on earth. Victoria knew this was what had been told to her husband because her mother had passed her tactics on to her daughter in their discussions of how to behave as a wife.

So now, all was forgiven, and here the duke and duchess lay, naked, their limbs entwined and their bodies tangled in the covering sheet. Victoria lay on her side, her head resting against Spencer’s shoulder, an arm and a leg thrown over his chest and his legs. She loved the contrast of their bodies; how his was so powerful yet gentle; how his muscles were so firm yet warm; and how the sprinkling of short black hairs on his chest narrowed in a funnel pattern down to his navel. Lying on his back, an arm wrapped around Victoria’s shoulders, he gently rubbed her arm and made her feel safe and happy and loved. For some time now, they’d stared quietly out the opened windows across the way at the full moon silvering the earth below and shining a bright light into the bedroom.

“Have I said yet,” Spencer said into the quiet, “how glad I was to return to River’s End last week, on that fateful day, to find Jefferson had taken your parents aside and confided the entire truth to them? I cannot imagine us having returned here from Savannah, in the shape we were in, and having to sort all the details for them. Though I gladly would have done, had that been the case. Still, I was glad.”

“Yes, you have said. Every night.”

“I am tedious, aren’t I?”

“No. Just glad. I was equally glad the barbecue was over and the guests were leaving.”

“Thank heavens for that back road you knew which kept us out of the departing guests’ sight. We would have had to explain to each and every carriageful what the devil we were doing out there and why you were in men’s clothing.”

“You didn’t have to burn them.”

“Yes I did. Are you certain you’re ready to make the trip back to Wetherington’s Point tomorrow, Victoria?”

He’d asked her this, too, maybe twenty times in the past week. She grinned, knowing he couldn’t see her do so. “Do you mean am I packed; am I ready to leave my family; or am I feeling up to the trip?”

“All of those, I suppose.”

“Well, let’s see.” She ticked her points off by tapping her fingernails against Spencer’s chest. “I haven’t had any sickness for the past three or four days, so hopefully that will hold. And what else? Oh, yes—I cannot wait to see old Fredericks again. I have missed your butler. But my family … I’m never ready to leave them, I suppose.”

“They’ll be coming to England next spring to see the baby.”

Victoria’s heart gave a happy little flutter. “I know. I’m so happy about that. I will still miss them, though.”

“Of course you will. It’s been a most difficult visit for you, if one could call it a visit. More like a mission. Nothing restful about it.”

“No. And in so many ways it didn’t end well, did it?”

“It ended as well as one could expect. Crises are seldom settled amicably, Victoria, and hardly ever without some daunting results.”

“I know.” She shied away from unbidden images of Loyal Atherton’s bleeding body and settled her thoughts instead on her brother. “I wish there was something we could do for Jeff and Jenny.”

Spencer restlessly shifted his position on the bed but still held her close against him. “If there was, I would do it in a heartbeat, Victoria. I wish, too, there was something we could do for Jubal, stuck like that for all his life in a swamp.”

Moved by his compassion, she planted a kiss on the firm, warm skin of his chest. “I know you would, and I love you all the more for it. But there isn’t anything to be done.”

Spencer was quiet a moment, pensively so. “I suppose he’ll continue to go out to the swamp to see her.”

He meant Jeff, she knew. “He’ll have to. She made the decision to stay there with her mother and brother.”

“I suppose, like her brother, I can hardly blame her, given how she’s fared outside it.”

“I know. And it’s ironic, isn’t it, Spencer? That a swamp could become a haven.”

“Terribly. Your parents did try, though.”

“Yes.” The heartache only deepened for Victoria. “I ache for that little baby, Spencer. Sweet little Sofie. Poor Mama and Daddy … they lost a grandchild they could never publicly claim but never had the chance to love, either. But the shock of it all for them, to learn of Jeff and Jenny’s love.”

“Quite the test of their beliefs and convictions, I’d said. For all of us, actually.”

“True. Miss Cicely was never happy with it, either. She knew if their love was found out, Jenny would pay a much steeper price than would Jeff. But Jenny loves Jeff, just as my parents love Jenny, so what can they say or do but worry?”

“It’s not exactly a just world we live in, is it?”

“No. And then, poor Mama to suggest that Jenny come to River’s End to live. Only then did she realize the depth of Jefferson’s torment. ‘In what capacity?’ he asked her. ‘A maid? A cook?’ Mama had not known how to answer. ‘She is as much my wife as Victoria is Spencer’s,’ he’d shouted. ‘To be acknowledged as anything less is insulting.’”

“Yes. That was quite the painful supper gathering.”

“How I hurt for them both. For all of us, really.” A shiver slipped over Victoria’s skin. “So much hatred in the world. To be hated for whom you love … I just can’t imagine a worse thing.”

“Nor can I.”

“Do you suppose there will ever come a time when it’s any different?”

“It’s hard to see how, or even when, isn’t it? We just don’t seem to learn—and I mean as a species considered as a whole. But rest assured, my dear, that if you were confined to a swamp, I would make the trek, too—despite my admitted fear of alligators and water moccasins.”

Victoria raised her head to look at him. “You’d do that for me? Pole a jonboat again? Travel through all that murk and fog just to see me? Why, you warm my heart, Your Grace.” She laid her head again on his chest. “Not as much as it would if you’d said you’d come live with me there. But, nevertheless, you warm my heart.”

Victoria felt Spencer slump as much as was possible while already lying down. He coupled this with groaning in good husbandly form. “Well, damn me for a fool. My thoughtless remark is going to cost me, isn’t it?”

She patted his stomach. “I’m afraid so.”

“But you have everything already.” He sounded completely vexed, but Victoria knew better. “I know you do because I’ve already bought it—and two new traveling trunks to carry it all.”

“You really had no choice, my love.”

“Your father made that very plain to me.” He now sounded like a suitably scolded schoolboy. “He told me a smart husband is terrified of his wife’s anger or displeasure and will do whatever it takes to make certain he incurs neither. But should he, he must pay for it.”

Biting back a chuckle, Victoria nodded her agreement. “Daddy is such a wise man.”

“Yes, he is. He also worries about you, Victoria.”

Again she raised her head to look into her husband’s face. “Me? Why?”

“Why do you think? You were forced to take a life. He worries how this will haunt you. So do I.”

Bombarded by conflicting emotions, Victoria rested her cheek against Spencer’s shoulder … and said nothing.

Spencer hugged her close and kissed her forehead tenderly. “Your quietness speaks very loudly, my love. The man was a snake and deserved his fate. I only wish it had not been delivered by you. Taking a life, no matter how despicable the person, is an awful guilt to live with. And no, I’ve never taken a life, but one doesn’t have to do so to imagine how it must feel. But you must forgive yourself, Victoria. Had you not killed him, he would have killed all three of us. You did the only thing you could.”

“My head knows that, Spencer, but it’s harder for my heart to accept. It feels like a stain on my soul.” Now that she was talking about it, the confession flowed. “Do you know what scares me the most, Spencer? I did it so cavalierly. It was so … easy. And I have no regrets. Shouldn’t I? Is something wrong with me, do you suppose?”

He chuckled. “Nothing is wrong with you. I hardly think you’re likely to take to a life of crime and murder, my dear. If you have no regrets, couldn’t it be because you are convinced, deep in your heart, of the rightness of your actions? Think of all the ways Loyal Atherton harmed you and your family and Miss Cicely’s, as well. He wasn’t going to stop, Victoria. Instead, he had to be stopped. And if you will remember, you did give him a chance. You told him to put his gun down because he’d done nothing yet that couldn’t be forgiven. Do you remember?”

“Yes.” She was listening … and feeling better.

“Good. And do you remember that he did not take the olive branch that you extended to him? He chose evil over forgiveness. The decision was his, and he left you no choice. In a way, that was the last indignity he suffered upon you. Don’t let him win, Victoria. Put him from your heart and mind.”

Feeling her emotions boiling to the surface, Victoria reached out to Spencer, smoothing her arm up his chest to wrap her hand around his neck. She could feel the steady throb of his pulse there and felt comforted for it. “My father is not the only wise man in this household. Nor is he the most loved.”

“You melt my heart, Victoria. I love you.” Spencer’s voice rang with the sincerity of his declaration. “But one last word regarding your father. I have been pleased to learn that he and his business partners are going to be able to recoup most of the money lost to those bad investments that involved Jefferson.”

“I hate Loyal Atherton for that, too.”

Spencer patted her shoulder. “That’s the spirit, my love. He was very deserving of your hatred. The man did shoot your dog.”

Victoria’s heart turned over. “Oh … poor Neville. I can hardly stand to talk about that awful moment.” Thinking of the brave bloodhound, Victoria pulled away from Spencer and rolled over onto her other side. Then, peering over the side of the bed, she patted the mattress. “Come here, Neville. Come here, boy.”

The dog, his chest bandaged all around and very much the pampered hero in the household, reclined on the rag rug beside the bed. True to form, he merely raised his head now, stared at Victoria tiredly, and flopped his head back down.

Tsking her opinion of that, Victoria returned to her original position in her husband’s embrace. “You’d think a bloodhound making a first-class crossing to England, in our cabin, no less, would be more grateful.”

Neville’s going to England with them was one of the concessions Spencer had made. Victoria heard it in his sigh. “Perhaps once his wound heals—Dr. Hollis did a wonderful job on him, by the way—and Neville sees the English-bloodhound ladies, he’ll perk up.”

“I expect he’ll enrich the bloodlines over there as well. And make much better trackers of those English dogs.”

Spencer ran his hand down her side and pinched her bottom, eliciting a squawk out of her. “I have already lost that argument, madam. I refuse to have it again.”

“Yes, Your Grace. But do you think Sven will like England?”

“Sven? Who the devil is Sven?”

“The cook from my father’s house in Savannah.”

“Oh, yes. The man who boils nothing. You of course realize you are starting a war with my cook.”

“Maybe Mrs. Pike will take to him, and they’ll fall in love.”

“Oh, perish the thought. Have you seen her, Victoria? Mrs. Pike was old when your Oglethorpe was a boy.”

“That’s true. Then maybe Mrs. Kevins will fall in love with him.”

“Who the devil is Mrs. Kevins?”

“You are hopeless. The housekeeper I hired for Wetherington’s Point before I left.”

“Oh, that’s right. I believe Fredericks mentioned her. But what makes you think this Sven fellow will fall for her?”

“Have you seen Mrs. Kevins, Spencer? She’s an attractive widow. Not that you are allowed to look at her.”

Spencer’s laugh rumbled pleasantly through his chest and vibrated against Victoria’s ear and cheek. She hugged him closer to her. Sometimes she felt she could not be close enough to him even if she were to snuggle down inside his skin. “I am ready to go home, Spencer, and have you to myself. I’m ready to start our life together. Our new life.”

“Yes, ours. Including our third little party.”

“I’m so very excited about the baby, Spencer.” She paused, hesitant to speak but deciding she should. “Do you … do you believe Miss Cicely, Spencer? I mean … what she said about the baby.”

Spencer’s hesitation had Victoria holding her breath. Finally, and with a lot less conviction than she would have liked, he said: “Yes, I believe her.”

Victoria knew better. Her mouth suddenly felt dry and her heartbeat seemed too slow and ponderous. “There is no birthmark, is there?”

Spencer inhaled deeply and then exhaled slowly. “No.”

Victoria lay still a moment, absorbing this. She realized she wasn’t surprised by his answer. Without lifting her head, she angled her face up until she could look into Spencer’s. “We can’t tell Miss Cicely.”

“Absolutely not.”

“But the baby then, Spencer, we don’t know—”

“We do, and it’s mine. If you persist in arguing this point with me, I shall jump out the window over there and end my torment.”

“Yes, Your Grace.” Victoria smiled. “You know, I ought to pinch you hard over this. I ought to be very angry and throw things at you for tricking me and her like that.”

“As you wish. Only, please don’t aim for my head. I am already quite addled as it is. But, Victoria, did you tell her about the birthmark in one of your trips out there?”

“No, I didn’t. I was as surprised as you were when she mentioned it.”

“Hmm. Then I wonder how she knew to even mention it. Very strange.”

“Why did you make up the story of the birthmark, Spencer? I suppose I can understand … but it seems so mean to me. Although you really had every right—”

“Victoria, allow me, darling. I don’t know where it came from, the birthmark. It just came out of my mouth in anger. I suppose I wanted to see if in the face of such a definite way of knowing for certain who the father was or was not, you would recant your story and confess that you knew the baby was Loyal Atherton’s. But you didn’t. You didn’t hesitate for a moment to say you still believed it might be mine. After that day, we didn’t see each other again until I arrived here. And then, with Miss Cicely saying the baby was mine, I … came to believe. I don’t know how else to state it. Except to say I believe it.”

Though she was very moved by his loving testimony, Victoria wasn’t quite finished with him. “Hmph, well, I began to suspect, you should know, when Edward didn’t know about a Whitfield birthmark. As close as he is to you, he would have known.”

“Yes, Edward. A veritable thorn in my side, as always. But, Victoria, can you forgive me for putting you through all that?”

She smoothed her hand across his chest, loving the feel of him. “I already have. We were different people then, Spencer. Only a matter of weeks, I know, but such … awful and wonderful weeks.”

“They were. But they showed us how to make a marriage, didn’t they? And all that is important to me now, Victoria, is I love you and the child you carry. He is mine as much as he is yours. Now, that said, we will not have this discussion again.”

So very imperious he was—and absolutely astounding in his grace and nobility, two mantles he wore so easily. “Yes, Your Grace,” Victoria said dutifully, her heart overflowing with love for this magnificent man. “And speaking of Edward and marriage, can you believe him with Lucinda Barrett?”

“Good Lord, could the man be more tedious? He sits and stares at the girl, a vacant expression on his face, and rubs her hand and even forgets to eat, unless made to do so.”

“He’s in love.”

Spencer shook his head. “I never thought he would be. I suppose it’s just as well he’s going to bring the girl along and present her to his mother. At least Miss Barrett’s family is not accompanying us home. Still, I shudder to think what Edward will be like as a husband.”

“He’ll be wonderful. Lucinda will see to it.”

“Having found myself in the clutches of a Savannah woman, a woman as beautiful as a magnolia blossom and as true as any oak that ever grew, I can attest to the fact that he will, indeed, be whipped into shape in short order.”

Smiling wickedly, feeling the languid stirrings of desire deep inside her, Victoria slid her hand down her husband’s chest, down his belly … lower … “Ah, you poor man. Has it been as bad as all that for you?”

A gasp and a husky chuckle accompanied Spencer’s capturing her hand, which he raised to his lips and kissed. “I find your forwardness shocking, my dear duchess.”

Victoria grinned seductively. “Do you, Your Grace?”

“Yes. Pleasantly so.” With one swift, muscled movement, Spencer pulled Victoria’s naked and willing body on top of him.

Feeling his growing, hardening response to her, trapped as it was between him and her, Victoria looked deep into Spencer’s black and glittering eyes and responded instantly, heatedly. Holding herself up with her palms braced against his chest, she nipped his neck and jaw and chin with tiny biting kisses. “With that look on your face, Your Grace, you look just like a pirate, do you know that?”

“I should,” he murmured, all the while rubbing and kneading her buttocks, lending to the act a deep hunger that spoke of pleasures to come. “My ancestors were reputed to be pirates.”

Victoria pulled back, flinging her long hair over her shoulders with one graceful motion of her head. “Really? Pirates in your bloodlines? I am shocked. And quite … excited by that. Kiss me.”

A wicked grin captured his mouth. “I am happy to oblige, madam.”

Holding her to him, Spencer performed a neat flip and, in an instant, had her under him on the mattress, her long hair tangled in his arms and around her face. Chuckling, Spencer helped her move it to one side. Victoria adored the delicious weight of him atop her, and how his body fit so perfectly with hers, and how he always took such great care to be tender with her. Even now, he braced himself with his elbows on the bed and stared down into her face, his own suffused with an expression of deepening desire for her. “I love you, Victoria. Something … magical happened inside me when you came into your parents’ parlor the day I arrived from England.”

She gasped. “You felt that, too? Oh, Spencer, I was so afraid I was the only one. I saw you, and I knew. I just knew I was supposed to spend the rest of my life with you. I love you, John Spencer Whitfield.”

Spencer lowered his head and claimed her mouth. The instant his mouth touched hers, a surge of stinging desire shot through Victoria, centering itself low in her belly, where it pulsed and throbbed. As Spencer’s kiss deepened, as his tongue dueled with hers, Victoria squirmed against him, eager for him to claim her wholly. But Spencer held off entering her. He broke their kiss and slid down her willing body, kissing and suckling her skin as he went. Her swollen breasts, no longer sore and tender, ached for his attention, and he obliged, taking first one budded nipple into his mouth and then the other. His swirling kisses made her ache for him to kiss her elsewhere.

As always, he knew her thoughts, her secret desires … and lowered himself farther down her body until he was positioned between her legs. Victoria opened herself to him in a great act of trust … and invited him in. Almost reverently, Spencer bent his head to take her woman’s place in his mouth, kissing her there with swirling lashes of his tongue until she cried out his name and felt so very hot all over, on fire inside with the rippling undulations of her satiation, unable to move … and then he pulled himself up and over her, finally, finally sliding himself inside her until he was completely sheathed in her love-slicked tightness.

“Oh, Spencer,” she murmured, tossing her head from side to side. “Oh, please…”

“Whatever you want, my love.” His whisper was guttural, possessive. “For all your life, Victoria … whatever you want.”

She wrapped her arms and legs around him, arching her hips against him. She looked deep into his eyes. “Take me, Spencer. Make me yours.”

“You have been mine since the first moment I laid eyes on you, Victoria. And I have been yours.” And then, he began to move against her …

As her husband’s passion seized her and lifted her to levels of joy she had never known existed, as his lovemaking removed from her heart and soul any awareness except of him, Victoria’s last coherent thought, as the heat within her began again to build and build, was: Should she tell Spencer that Miss Cicely had also told her, privately, that Victoria carried not one baby … but two? And that this other baby was a girl child … one Victoria had promised her and Jenny and Jefferson she would name Sofie?