Myles told the squawking, fanned-out peacock to shut up, but it didn’t listen. Just squawked louder. He pinched his temples with one hand, not because of the bird, but because he was trying to make sense of all that had just happened.
He’d seen Roscoe and the peacocks waiting at the stable door as soon as he’d stepped out of the coach and had known that’s where he’d find her. Inside the stable.
But not in a stall. His heart had dropped to his ankles at the idea of her falling in that enclosed space and getting stepped on. Getting hurt. He’d never lost his temper as fast as he had at that moment. He’d never feared something so much.
He’d never said that her foot was a problem, either, or that it needed to be fixed. There was nothing about her that needed to be fixed.
A shiver raced over his shoulders. Was she right? Is that how he’d seen it?
It was his responsibility to solve all the problems for his family, for his businesses, for his life.
He let out a curse. That was how she’d seen it.
That was exactly how she’d seen it.
He felt sick to his stomach.
She was at the house, rushing in the back door, and he took a step to follow, but the peacock fanned out again and squawked, as if saying it wouldn’t let him pass. The bird was probably right. He should give her a moment to calm down before he tried to explain that finding her in a foaling stall had made his heart stop. The memory of it practically did the same thing, until the image in his mind made him pause.
Why had she been in a foaling stall?
He twisted about, stared at the stable for a moment.
That made no sense. He’d take the time to find out, then he’d go talk to her. Explain the dangers had little to do with her foot. Anyone could trip on hay.
Mr Walsh was in the foaling pen when Myles arrived, and Mr Gorman quickly described what had happened, showing extreme distress while explaining that he couldn’t disobey the Duchess.
Myles had felt like a heel before and felt even lower after hearing the entire story. He apologised for his behaviour and questioned the horse’s condition, because he knew Anita would want to know.
Mr Walsh’s examination found no signs of labour, but the man insisted that the horse remain separated from the other horses to keep her calm and said that he’d remain with her, watching for any changes.
Myles requested updates be sent to the house and left the stable intent upon finding Anita.
His mother met him at the back door. ‘Hello,’ she greeted, ‘we didn’t expect you until this evening.’
Not about to explain to anyone how he’d kept others working until late last night so he could leave this morning, he said, ‘I finished early.’ Taking a step to walk around her, he said, ‘Excuse me.’
She stepped at the same time, blocking his path. ‘No.’
He stepped the other direction, and so did she.
‘No, I won’t excuse you,’ she said. ‘I don’t know what happened out there, but you need to let Anita be. She doesn’t want to see you right now.’
‘I need to see her.’
‘To further upset her?’
Frustrated, he grasped his mother’s upper arms, lifted her, and set her down out of his pathway. ‘No, to explain what happened.’
‘If you think that’s what she needs right now, you’re a bigger fool than I ever thought.’
Shaking his head, he walked past her.
‘Sometimes, jumping in doesn’t solve the problem,’ she said. ‘Because sometimes all that is needed is a little time, and things will work themselves out.’
He stopped and closed his eyes as he shook his head while everything about him dropped even lower. He’d never regretted something as much as he did right now.
‘Why don’t you go to your office,’ his mother continued, ‘and look at the notations she made in your ledgers and the notes she left for you? She was very happy to be helping while you were gone.’
He pivoted to face her. ‘Mother, I respect you, but this is between Anita and me.’
‘I respect that and would like to remind you that I was married to a man much like you for almost thirty years and learned a few things over the years. There are times when a woman needs to be left alone.’
She hadn’t interfered in his actions so boldly since he’d been young, but he still had to talk to Anita. Therefore, he turned and walked towards the back stairway.
He stopped before stepping onto the first stair and drew in a deep breath. His mother did know much more about women and marriage than he did, and he’d never been one to overlook knowledge and experience. Against what he considered his own better judgement, he walked past the stairway and along the corridor that would eventually allow him to arrive at his office.
There he reviewed his ledgers. Read every notation Anita had made with neat, perfect penmanship that was much easier to read than his hastily written entries. He also read notes she’d left atop piles of mail, sorted by the dates they had arrived. She’d also left him notes about other things that had happened in his absence. Nothing major, but things he appreciated knowing, like how one of the racehorses beat its own best time.
He leaned back in his chair and stared at the desk that used to be cluttered but was now neat and tidy. So were the desk drawers, the shelves and the cabinets.
People kept telling him he was a problem-solver. That was a part of his duties, but he sure couldn’t solve the one that was plaguing him now and had been the entire time he’d been in London.
They were married and would remain married. Not because of society or rules or anything else, because he truly didn’t care about any—
He stood up and paced the floor. Her. He cared more about Anita than anyone else. He wanted to take care of her. Provide her with everything she needed for a good life. Provide her with other things, too. Little things she might like, such as the gift he’d ordered for her while in London.
Caring for someone wasn’t the same as loving them, but maybe he could make sure she was happy in every other way. She had agreed to marry him knowing love didn’t play a part in their marriage. Maybe he was the only one who had determined that was a problem. Whereas it truly wasn’t.
Could that be true? Could he be jumping to conclusions that weren’t there?
Could his mother be right, that sometimes things just needed time to work themselves out?
That was possible, but right now, he still felt the overwhelming need to speak to Anita, to let her know that he’d never wanted to fix her. He would take Wesley’s advice, too, and ask her what she wanted.
He left the library, and upon arriving upstairs, saw a single person outside of Anita’s bedroom door. It was Olive, who rose from the chair as he approached.
‘Is the Duchess in her room?’ he asked.
‘Yes, Your Grace.’ The woman lifted her bowed head to meet his gaze. ‘She cried herself to sleep. Perhaps it would be best if you let her rest.’
He couldn’t stop the gut-wrenching sigh that escaped.
‘She never cries,’ Olive said. ‘In all the time I’ve known her, no matter what someone said to her or did to her, she never cried. She just—’ shaking her head, Olive looked down at the floor ‘—took it and never cried.’
He hadn’t thought he could sink any lower, but he did, and he’d rather have taken fifty lashes than being the one who had made her cry. ‘You can leave, Olive. I won’t disturb her.’
‘Thank you, Your Grace, but I will remain in case she needs anything.’
‘Where is her maid?’ he asked but immediately shook his head. ‘Never mind.’ The younger Claire would have been afraid to face him, to block him from entering Anita’s room, whereas the older Olive had been willing to put her position on the line for her duchess.
He walked down the corridor to his room and entered. Removing his coat, he tossed it on a chair and remembered the excitement that had been bold and bright inside him this morning when he’d put on the coat in London. He’d been looking forward to coming home, to seeing her.
Not one to ever go back on his word, he struggled with his impulse, but it was too strong to overcome and he walked to his bedroom, past the bed to the door to her room. His hand balled into a fist as it reached for the knob. Would it be locked?
There was only one way to find out.
A flutter of relief washed over him as he turned the knob, then slowly, quietly, opened the door, and a wave of something he couldn’t explain filled his chest as his gaze landed on her.
She was lying on her bed, on her side, facing his door, with her head on the pillow and eyes closed. Her slow, even breathing said she was asleep. A single blanket covered her.
Roscoe was on the bed, too, lying with his head on her thigh. The dog opened his eyes and looked at Myles with such sadness that he felt his shoulders droop.
His gaze went back to her face as he quietly pulled the door closed. He waited until he heard the latch click, then he rested his forehead against the door. There was nothing about her that needed to be fixed, and it pained him to think that she’d thought that was what he’d been trying to do.
Pained him in a way he’d never known.
‘Thank you, Claire,’ Anita said, glancing at herself in the mirror. The maid had repaired her hair, which had been messed from her nap. Her dress had been wrinkled as well, and her face had been puffy when she’d awoken, but a cool cloth had helped with that.
She’d been right about crying. Once she’d started, she hadn’t been able to stop, but she’d felt empty upon waking up. Or maybe cleansed.
Her thoughts had certainly been clearer than ever before. She knew what she had to do. Myles hadn’t been trying to fix her. That was up to her, and she had to know if there was even a chance of that happening. Myles had said he’d talked to the doctor in London who had examined her as a child. It was time she talked to that doctor.
Twisting in her chair, she said, ‘I’ve decided to go to London with the Dowager Duchess and the girls tomorrow. Would you mind packing a trunk for me?’
‘Of course,’ Claire replied.
‘Thank you.’ Drawing in a deep breath, Anita stood and took a final glance at herself in the mirror. She was not the same woman who had arrived here. Maybe it was more accurate to say the woman she used to be she’d left at Brunswick and had arrived as someone else.
The transformation had continued during her stay here. Not only had her looks changed, with the help of Claire, and her limp wasn’t as noticeable, thanks to Myles and Mr Wainwright, she’d changed on the inside, too. It was odd that what she’d always considered to be a strength had indeed been a weakness. The will she’d prided herself on for forcing herself to forge forward despite obstacles had actually been a crutch.
She’d never stood up for herself. Instead, she’d accepted what was thrown at her without question. Without objection.
The question she had to ask herself was what she would do now that she understood that? Now that she knew she could stand up for herself.
The other question screaming in the back of her mind was if she was truly brave enough to fight for what she wanted.
Twisting the ring on her finger, she determined that she had to be. It would take confidence, and it was bit frightening.
More than a bit.
Drawing in another deep breath, she held it until it burned inside her, then let it out and walked to the door. This wasn’t going to be easy, might not even be possible, but if it was, it would be worth it.
She was wearing one of her new dresses. A soft rose-coloured gown with a neckline that was much lower than she was used to, but the seamstress had insisted that Myles would like it. The full skirt had scalloped layers that were highlighted by tiny bows, and there was another tiny bow in the centre of the neckline. That seemed to really highlight how low the neckline truly was, and it left her feeling a bit exposed.
However, it also made her feel attractive in a way she had never felt before. Probably because she’d never thought herself attractive before coming here. Another thing she had Myles to thank for. His attention and kisses. She sighed. She’d been looking forward to his kisses and instead had yelled at him, accused him of things that she shouldn’t have. He’d been nothing but wonderful since her arrival.
She proceeded down the corridor and the stairway to the front parlour, where the family had already gathered.
It took all she had to stop her gaze from lingering on Myles overly long. They needed to speak, but it could wait until after the meal. ‘Forgive me,’ she said, turning to Mary. ‘I hope I haven’t delayed dinner.’
‘Not at all, dear,’ Mary replied, smiling. ‘Would you care for a glass of sherry?’
‘Yes, please.’ She took a seat in a chair near the sofa where the girls sat.
Myles provided her with a glass and clearly noticed the bow on her neckline while handing her the sherry.
Finding the ability to speak was difficult. His gaze made her breasts feel heavy and her face warm. ‘Thank you,’ she finally managed to say.
‘I would like a moment to speak with you,’ he said.
Ironically, it wasn’t difficult to smile at him. ‘I would appreciate that. After dinner?’ She placed her free hand on her stomach. ‘I fear I awoke quite hungry.’ Actually, she was so nervous she wasn’t looking forward to eating but was sticking to her plan of finding the confidence to do what was needed.
‘Of course,’ he said.
Turning her attention to Mary, Anita held her breath as she said, ‘I’ve decided to—’ she had to let the air out ‘—travel to London with you tomorrow, if that wouldn’t be a problem.’
‘Not at all,’ Mary said. ‘I think that is a brilliant idea. I could introduce you to some of the extended family who were unable to attend the wedding. They’ll all be at the Christmas Ball, but meeting them ahead of time would be wonderful.’
‘You are going to love Aunt Tina,’ Christina said. ‘I’m named after her. She’s Mother’s oldest sister and so delightful.’
‘So is Uncle Norman,’ Maria said. ‘He loves doing magic tricks, and they are so funny.’
The girls and their enthusiasm over the trip and the ball dominated the conversation until dinner was announced. Myles had been standing next to Anita’s chair since handing her the glass of sherry and took a hold of her arm as she rose to her feet.
‘You look very lovely, as always,’ he said.
‘Thank you,’ she replied, amazed by how confident she felt. Truly confident. ‘I hope your trip to London was productive.’
‘It was, and now you are going there.’
‘Yes, there are some things I’d like to see to.’
‘Anything I can help with?’
‘No, thank you.’ She was doing her best to not look at him, even though she felt his eyes on her, and that made her want to at least glance his way. ‘I hope you found your ledgers in order.’
‘Indeed. Thank you. I appreciate your thoroughness. I’m sure you’ll be happy to hear that Dolly has shown no signs of going into labour.’
‘I was very relieved when Claire shared that with me.’
‘Mr Walsh will remain with her and keep her separated from the other mares for a time.’
‘That’s good. She calmed considerably when separated from the others.’
‘I heard as much.’ He paused in the doorway of the dining room. ‘Anita, I—’
‘If you don’t mind,’ she interrupted. ‘I think we should wait to continue this conversation until after dinner.’
‘Of course.’
It wasn’t easy, because the way Myles kept looking at her took her breath away, but she managed to eat a sufficient amount of the meal before the true test of her newfound confidence was but minutes away. Fear trickled down her spine as he escorted her from the room. There was no guarantee what she had to do would change anything, but she had to try. Had to take the risk.
Neither of them spoke during what seemed to be a very long walk to his library.
Once there, he clasped a hold of the hand she attempted to slide off his elbow.
‘One thing was foremost on my mind when I left London this morning,’ he said, ‘and is still there.’
Her ability to not look at him disappeared. Biting her tongue, she lifted her gaze and felt as if parts of her were melting by the way he looked at her. Forcing herself to speak, she asked, ‘What would that be?’
He cupped her chin with one hand, and his gaze roamed her face. ‘Kissing you. May I?’
More melting made her knees weak. ‘Yes.’
His lips met hers softly, but only momentarily, until the pressure increased. Her arms wrapped around him, because she might end up on the floor without him to hold on to. Their lips parted, then collided together with an urgency that stole her breath. She gasped for air and felt a tiny moan rumble in the back of her throat when his tongue slipped inside her mouth.
It was like the kiss in the stable, the one she’d wanted a repeat of for what felt like years. It was utterly divine, and she pressed herself up against him as an exhilarating ache overtook her inside and out. She’d never felt so alive or so...wanted.
She could have gone on kissing him for ever and felt dizzy when his lips left hers.
His arms kept her pressed up against him as he held her in a tight hug. ‘I am so sorry, Anita. There is nothing about you that needs to be fixed.’ He leaned back and framed her face with both hands. ‘I had no idea that is what you thought.’ Shaking his head, he said, ‘I didn’t like knowing you were in pain. If there was something that could help with that, I wanted to find it. And I apologise about how I reacted in the stables. It scared me to see you in the stall, and I overreacted. It won’t happen again.’
More than her heart was pounding, and the sensations filling her confirmed the decision she’d made after waking up today was the right one. ‘I’m sorry, too,’ she said. ‘I shouldn’t have yelled at you. Or kicked you. I’ve never done anything like that before and am quite appalled at myself. I know you weren’t trying to fix anything, but in a way, you did. The shoes you purchased for me have helped tremendously. I rarely feel the pain that I used to, and I owe that to you. Thank you.’
‘I wish that you’d never had any pain.’ He kissed her forehead.
Closing her eyes to completely absorb the feeling of his lips, she smiled to herself. She used to wish she’d never had any pain, but without it, she’d never have met him. Now she had to do everything she could to be the wife he needed. He didn’t need to love her. She could live without that; being his wife would still be the best life she could ever hope to have. But this wasn’t about her, it was about him, and she wanted to see him happy.
‘I’m sorry I made you cry,’ he said, leaning back to look at her.
‘I’m not. I needed to get that out of my system. I think I did for a long time.’ She drew in a breath before saying, ‘I also hope you don’t mind that I need to go to London. There’s something I have to do.’
‘I don’t mind. I could go with you.’
She shook her head. ‘No, you have things to do here, and the ball is next week.’ That still made her nervous, even more now, because it didn’t give her much time. Holding up one finger, she said, ‘I would like a message or two about Dolly if possible.’
‘Definitely possible.’ He touched her cheek. ‘What do you want, Anita? From our marriage, what do you want?’
She looked at him for a long moment, then smiled. ‘I want what you want.’
Myles wasn’t done with regrets. Watching as the carriage rolled away, he regretted not asking Anita to join him in his bed last night. He’d struggled with the decision, because every part of him wanted her. His desire for her had already been throbbing through him, but the dress she’d worn had made him hotter than a smoking gun. He wasn’t even sure why he hadn’t invited her to his room, other than her answer. She wanted what he wanted. He didn’t know what that meant and hadn’t wanted to ask.
He’d already coerced her into marrying him, and from now on, what happened in her life was her decision. Including joining him in his bed. He wouldn’t ask that of her. He’d wait until she offered it.
She deserved that.
Letting out a long sigh, he watched until the carriage driven by Joshua, who was officially the Duchess of Redford’s driver, and the second carriage, which was filled with luggage and servants, both disappeared. Then he turned about and let out a grunt. For a man who found himself too busy for a wife, he wasn’t looking forward to being alone for seven days.
There was work to be done, but his will to complete it wasn’t there. Probably because his mind was too focused on Anita. He hadn’t asked what she needed to do in London. It did seem odd that she had anything to do there, but he’d sensed that she didn’t want him to know what that was.
That made him all the more curious.
Which was no help in motivating him to focus on work.
He was at his desk that evening, doing nothing more than looking at the notes Anita had made for him while he’d been gone for the hundredth time, when the door opened.
Myles did a double take upon seeing Wesley walk into the room. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘When the London house became overrun with women, I decided to leave,’ Wesley said, sitting down in a chair.
Myles lifted a single brow, because company had never bothered Wesley.
‘Naw,’ Wesley said, waving a hand and laughing. ‘I’m meeting a buyer here tomorrow.’
Myles leaned back in his chair. ‘I could have taken care of that.’
‘I know, but it’s just one more of the loose ends I want tied up before I sail to America.’
‘What horse did they buy?’
Wesley shrugged. ‘Pick of the litter.’
‘Already trained?’
Wesley nodded.
Myles opened a drawer and pulled out the horse ledger. ‘Got one who keeps breaking his own best times, and they’re good times.’
Leaning forward, over the desk to look at the book, Wesley shook his head. ‘That’s not your handwriting.’
‘Anita wrote in the ledgers for me while I was gone.’
‘Interesting how you arrive home one day, and she leaves the next.’
Myles bit his back teeth together at how he was already missing her. ‘She had things to do in London.’
Wesley sat back in his chair. ‘You know I was shocked when you told me about your marriage to her, and I was worried, until she arrived, then I got a feeling that the two of you would make a good match. We both know I’m rarely wrong.’
Myles shook his head at his brother’s conceit.
‘Did you ask her what she wants?’ Wesley asked.
‘I did,’ Myles replied, but wasn’t any less confused now than he had been in London.
‘And?’
Myles didn’t want to elaborate on the details of his thoughts. That would be impossible, since he didn’t fully understand them himself. ‘She’s—she’s more than I expected.’
‘So, there’s still a problem?’
‘I—’ Myles stopped himself from saying there wasn’t a problem and changed his answer. ‘She’s a very endearing person.’
‘You consider that a problem?’
‘Neither of us entered into this as a love match. I needed a wife, needed to get married, and she needed to be taken care of. Treated with respect and...’
‘Love?’
Myles couldn’t answer that aloud, but his answer was yes.
Wesley started laughing. Too hard for comfort.
Leaning back, Myles crossed his arms, waiting for his brother’s bout of unjustified humour to pass.
Still laughing, Wesley slapped his thigh. ‘I should say that I hate to tell you this, but I can’t lie. I’m happy to be the one to say it.’
‘Say what?’
‘That you, big brother, have fallen in love.’
Myles shot out of his chair, crossed the room while rubbing his chin. That was impossible. He couldn’t have fallen in love. He didn’t feel an undeniable need to give up his dreams, to want to focus on no one but...but Anita. Smothering a curse, he pointed at Wesley. ‘Is there really a buyer coming here tomorrow? Or did you just come here to torture me?’
Wesley was still laughing, but it was more of chuckle now. ‘Yes, there are buyers. They’ll arrive around two tomorrow afternoon. Torturing is just a...a gift I hadn’t expected.’
Myles walked to the cabinet, picked up a glass and used it to point as his brother. ‘Don’t you think I’d know if I was in love?’ He would know. He was sure of that.
Wesley shrugged. ‘Can’t say. But I do know it won’t happen to me. I’m the lucky one. The one who isn’t required to marry and produce an heir. I’ll never be expected to love anything more than our horses.’
Myles poured them each a drink, knowing he didn’t feel unlucky. He wasn’t. He was very lucky to have married Anita. Carrying a glass to his brother, he said, ‘She said she wants what I want, which is not love. However, I am the lucky one. When I said she was more than I expected, I meant because she discovered a mare who may have had a miscarriage if not for her quick thinking and action.’
Wesley smile faded. ‘Oh?’
‘Yes.’ He proceeded to tell Wesley about Dolly and how Gorman said Anita was the one who discovered the blood in the stall and most of the rest of the story. He left out how he’d physically removed her from the stall. However, he also pointed out his desk, ledgers and files, where things had never been so easy to find, and how she knew the horses as well as either of them.
‘Well, I’ll say one thing,’ Wesley said with a chuckle. ‘If you don’t love her, I think I do.’