Anita entered her bedroom and twirled about in a tiny circle. A bit of an uneven and ungraceful circle, but she did it anyway, because she’d never been able to twirl until recently, and she was so happy to see Myles that she wanted to twirl around, over and over again.
So very happy. She was a bit disheartened that their time together had been so brief, but that was part of being his wife. He was a busy man, and she fully understood the importance of that. She just wished there was more she could do to help him.
Furthermore, the way he’d acted said that he wasn’t any happier about having to see to some tasks than she was. He’d appeared to be quite frustrated about it. But if he got them all accomplished now, then they would be able to spend a longer amount of time together later.
She sincerely hoped that was the case. Seeing him had reminded her of exactly how much she’d missed him. And missed kissing him!
She completed another twirl and landed on the bed with a giggle and pressed her hands over her fast-beating heart. Her insides were twirling with happiness, just like she had twirled her body.
Even though she’d always had one good foot, she’d never been able to twirl because of her balance, and fear. Dr Potter had suggested that not walking until a year after her accident had been so painful because when she had started walking, she’d been walking on her ankle bone. As a child, she’d found a way to take tiny steps that caused the least amount of pain and had continued to walk that way out of fear of the pain returning until that had become the way she walked. With the special shoes and the therapy, so many things had changed. The pain, her balance and stride, and the trust she had in herself. The belief that she could do more than she’d ever imagined.
It had only been one week, and it had taken a lot of work, and not just during her sessions with Dr Potter. She’d kept doing the exercises all day, discreetly, and would continue to for the rest of her life. It was worth it. Though her foot would always look like it did, Myles wouldn’t have to worry about her tripping. He wouldn’t have to shorten his strides to match her—well, maybe a little bit still, for he had very long legs—when they walked side by side.
Another bout of happiness washed over her. Or when they danced! She would dance with him at the Christmas Ball! It was amazing how easy it was to move to the music. Her feet could just glide across the floor. She had to make sure that she was leading, as Dr Potter called it, with her right foot, but she could dance!
That would never have been possible if she hadn’t gone to see Dr Potter. Would never have been possible if—She let out a sigh and shook her head. None of it would have been possible without Myles. She owed him so much.
When Joshua had told her about seeing Myles at the tavern near Dr Potter’s house, she’d been scared for a split second. That had diminished when Joshua assured her that he hadn’t mentioned the doctor or her therapy. Then she’d simply been overjoyed. So excited to see him that she’d thought the carriage ride would never end.
She’d known he’d laugh about her buying Roscoe a Christmas gift. The rug had caught her eye yesterday, but knowing she’d need to go to Fortnum & Mason’s again today, she’d waited to buy it. That store was astonishing. It had everything that a person might ever need or want.
Thank goodness, because she’d stopped there every day to buy another present. She’d finally found a gift for Myles there, too. It was hidden in her trunk along with the others and was the one she was most excited to give on Christmas. She hoped he liked it as much as she thought he would.
Though she could lie here on the bed, staring at the ceiling and thinking about him for hours, feeling happier than she’d ever thought possible, she sat up, got off the bed and walked to the wardrobe to pick out a dress to wear for the evening meal.
There, too, she had to sigh—a joy-filled sigh—at how her life had changed.
Her inner joy continued to climb throughout the afternoon. With Claire’s assistance, her hair was refashioned into a braided coil at the crown of her head, with long curls left loose to fall around her face. A gold ribbon that matched her white-and-gold dress was wrapped around the braided coil, and another piece of the ribbon was around her neck and tied in a bow as a makeshift necklace.
Made of two layers, the underdress was white silk, and the top layer was made from a shimmering sheer gold material. White lace decorated the square neckline that revealed plenty of skin, and lace was also on the puffy short sleeves. The gown was so lovely, it made her feel lovely, and she relished the idea of Myles seeing her in it.
Dinner wouldn’t be served for a couple of hours, and their company, a niece and nephew of Mary’s, were not due to arrive for at least another hour when she left her room to go downstairs and hopefully spend that time with Myles. His daily messages had kept her up to date on Dolly, but she was curious to know about other things at Redford. The racehorses and kittens, Roscoe and the peacocks, but mainly, she merely wanted to be with him. Talking, laughing, just enjoying each other’s company. That’s what she’d missed the most. It had been nearly two weeks since they’d taken a walk together, since he’d told her a fun or amazing tale about a past duke, since they’d sat side by side on the sofa and he’d touched her hand or rubbed her shoulder.
She pressed a hand over her heart, which was so overfilled with bliss it was close to bursting as she made her way downstairs. The house wasn’t nearly as large as the one at Redford, but it could not be considered small or modest. Exploring the house over the past week had not only given her knowledge of the entire home, it had given her the opportunity to continue her therapy. The lower floor consisted of the kitchen, dining room, two parlours, a study and the tiled hall, as well as the utility rooms for laundry and storage. The second floor contained family bedrooms and sitting areas and several water closets, and the uppermost floor was dedicated to space for the servants. There was also a cellar where the coal for the many fireplaces was stored.
The home boasted a curved staircase off the hall in the front of the house, and a narrow set of stairs off the hall near the kitchen at the back of the house. She no longer considered steps an annoyance, they were now an opportunity to build her resilience. Dr Potter said the objective was to make the muscles in that foot as strong as possible.
She had walked, including up and down steps, her entire life, but she’d never really walked on that foot, she’d used it more like someone would use a cane. Just to hold her weight as she did most of her walking with her right foot. All that he’d said made so much sense, and she was excited to tell Myles all about it. She would have told him after showing him the rug she’d purchased for Roscoe if he hadn’t been so busy.
From the stairway, she could see inside the parlour, but just the fireplace. She would check there for him first.
‘Anita, dear, you look absolutely radiant,’ Mary said.
Forcing herself to not let disappointment show that her mother-in-law was the only one in the room, Anita held her smile in place. ‘Thank you. I’m astonished daily by Claire’s ability to make my hair behave.’
Mary touched the nape of her neck. ‘Few of us know what a curse natural curls can be. I’ve looked like a scarecrow a time or two in my life. I would have scared off far more birds than any stuffed one standing in the field.’
Anita was still in the doorway and let out a small laugh at Mary’s tale while searching for a way to excuse herself so she could look for Myles in his study.
‘Myles went upstairs a short time ago. I’m sure he’ll be down presently,’ Mary said.
Anita had been listening for any sounds coming from his bedroom, but evidently, not closely enough. She entered the room and chose to sit on the sofa.
‘Did you complete your shopping today?’ Mary asked.
‘Yes, I did.’ There would be no gift-buying, nor would she be going to see Dr Potter tomorrow. Today had been her last session. He’d promised that he’d make time for sessions whenever she visited London in the future. It had been hard to say goodbye to both the surgeon and his wife after all they had done for her.
‘I have, too,’ Mary said. ‘After the ball, we can return home and focus on the yuletide season and family celebrations. It might be the last one that Wesley is with us for a time, and the first one with you. I’m looking forward to it.’
The conversation easily flowed into the decorations, special meals and treats, and traditions that would occupy Christmas Eve, Christmas Day and Boxing Day. Such days had been celebrated at Brunswick in a much smaller manner. She no longer cared that her participation had been very different there than here. It was simply how things used to be and, because of Myles, never would be again.
As if she somehow had the capability to conjure him up out of nowhere with a single thought, Myles strolled into the room. A tiny shiver rippled over her, not from a chill, but anticipation of him sitting down beside her.
He crossed the room, placed a tiny kiss on his mother’s cheek, then walked towards her, and Anita wondered if there would ever come a time when he didn’t make her breath stall or her heart thud.
Leaning down, he kissed her cheek, then turned about and walked to the fireplace, where he placed a hand on the wide, wooden mantel, as if he intended to lounge there and not sit next to her. She kept her disappointment hidden. Looking at him was just as exciting. He looked overly handsome, as usual, in his dark blue tail coat, gold brocade vest and dark pants. She especially liked the way he had that one cluster of dark hair that always hung at an angle over his forehead.
‘Still chilled from your long ride?’ Mary asked him.
He held his other hand towards the flames. ‘Yes.’
Anita rose. She’d been so focused on how happy she was to have him here she hadn’t thought of the cold ride he’d experienced during his journey to London. ‘Would you like a snifter of brandy?’
‘No, thank you, I have already had one.’ He tucked one hand in his pocket, but kept the other on the mantel. ‘You’ll be happy to know that Dolly has been returned to her stall, and that all of the kittens have their eyes open and are walking more than crawling.’
‘That’s wonderful,’ she replied, lowering to sit on the sofa again. ‘The racehorses? Has Maximus beat his own record again?’
‘Maximus has been sold,’ he answered. ‘He’ll be racing at Chester in May.’
A tiny prick struck her heart, even though she knew all of the horses, less a few personal ones, were for sale and would eventually be gone from Redford. ‘He’ll be amazing on the track. A winner. I’m sure of it.’
‘We should plan on attending the race,’ Mary said.
‘That would be too far to travel just for a race,’ Myles answered.
The smile on Anita’s face was becoming difficult to maintain, because there was something very different about Myles. His tone and clipped answers were not only uncommon; they were cold.
‘We could take the train,’ Mary said. ‘It would be fun to watch a Redford thoroughbred race.’
‘And win,’ Anita said cheerfully, hoping it would spread.
He pushed himself off the mantel and walked to the chair next to Mary’s, the one farthest away from where Anita sat on the sofa, and she felt her cheerfulness and smile fade even more.
‘Mother, if we start travelling to watch our horses race, we won’t have time to raise any others.’
The expression on Mary’s face said she found his short temper as unusual as Anita did.
His mood didn’t get any brighter throughout the evening, and though she thought Dafne and her husband pleasant people, the arrival of the guests seemed to sour Myles even more.
Until she realised it was she who was souring his mood. Every time she looked at him, he’d look the other way, as if he didn’t want to face her. Nausea swirled in her stomach, growing stronger as the evening proceeded. It wasn’t just her stomach that was upset; her heart started to ache, as if it were as damaged as her foot.
When was she going to learn to not get her hopes up? His expression wasn’t that he didn’t want to face her. He was disgusted by the sight of her. She knew, because it was the same expression that she saw in her nightmares about tripping at the Christmas Ball. Learning to walk, learning to dance, didn’t change who she was. It wasn’t going to change how he felt about her, either. She’d never be able to give him a wonderful life. One where he was happy that he’d married her.
Why had she thought she could? Furthermore, why had she been so foolish to believe that she could have what she wanted?
As much as he hated the gulf that he was creating between him and Anita, Myles knew it was what needed to happen. He had to put some distance between them so he could figure out what to do next.
More than one look, more than one touch, had sent him close to breaking his resolve and deciding that it didn’t matter if she was in love with someone else. He didn’t hate her. Just like he didn’t hate Leslie Carlisle for loving someone else. In fact, he should have expected it. He’d been engaged to a woman who loved someone else, so why shouldn’t the one he married love someone else, too?
There was no reason for her not to.
Hell, he wasn’t even mad at her about it. He’d told her that love wouldn’t be a part of their marriage.
That’s what he was mad about. Mad at himself. Mad that he’d succumbed to love. Why anyone would want something that could hurt this badly was beyond him.
He’d been right about one thing. He was in lust. The cleavage that Anita’s dress exposed was not what he’d needed tonight. He’d not only fallen in love with the most beautiful woman on earth, he’d married her and never consummated their marriage with her. The idea of her doing that with someone else was gutting him.
He’d never cared for Gibb, had barely tolerated the man’s arrogance, but tonight, it wasn’t Gibb’s unending boasting that got to him. It was the way Gibb wouldn’t stop staring at Anita that galled him no end. The man already had bug-eyes, and tonight they looked like they were about to pop right out of his head. Myles was sure he’d seen the bounder lick his lips a couple of times, too. Myles knuckles stung from being balled into fists so many times throughout the evening.
If that was the case with just his cousin’s husband, what was going to happen when he met her lover? Would he kill the man? End up in prison?
He would find whosever’s cologne he’d smelled on her, because it was not a minor thing. They were married. He hadn’t asked for her undying love, but he had requested her honesty, trust and faithfulness.
If she couldn’t give him that, then—what?—a failed marriage?
He sucked in a deep breath, let his gaze roam to the other side of the parlour, where she stood talking to Dafne. Her gold-covered white gown fit her as perfectly from the back as it did from the front. It hugged her slender back, fanned out over the slight swell of her hips. His palms tingled, wanting to feel those swells, and his groin throbbed with its own wants.
‘You have more restraint than I,’ Gibbs said.
Myles clamped his back teeth together as he slowly turned his neck to look down at the man standing next to him.
Gibbs shrugged. ‘Rather than standing here thinking about seducing my wife, I’d haul her up to our bedroom and perform the act.’
Myles gritted his back teeth together so hard it hurt. He was close to reaching his limit. Very close. Too close. ‘I’ll have the butler get your coats,’ he growled.
He left the room, and after informing the butler that the guests would be leaving soon, he went to his study, where he shut the door and cursed aloud at how Gibbs had hit a bull’s-eye. He had been thinking about seducing Anita. Thinking about performing the act.
The mistake he’d made was not doing that on their wedding night. He wouldn’t be in this position if he’d done that, she might already be carrying his child, because that act wouldn’t have happened just once. She would be well and truly secured to him then.
What the hell was he thinking? He didn’t want her secured to him. He wanted her...
Undying love.
He let out a long, heavy sigh.
That’s what he wanted.
That’s what he’d always want, because he’d never known a desire so great, and he knew himself well enough to know that it would never wane. Never go away.
If there was the slightest chance that he could ever gain her love, he had to know more about his opponent. Maybe she wasn’t fully in love with that man yet.
Within minutes, he was on Donovan, travelling across the city. Traffic was minimal and didn’t impede his travel. Not that it would have stopped him.
He hitched Donovan to the black post and mounted the steps, hand out to knock on the door. A gas lamp flickered next to the door, and a profound sense of shock struck, stopped him from knocking as he read the sign beneath the light.
Dr Harmen Potter.
The door opened before he had a chance to decide if he should knock or not. Before he had a chance to determine anything.
‘Are you seeking the doctor?’ a man asked.
The man wasn’t Dr Potter. At least not the Dr Harmen Potter that he had summoned to his London house to question about seeing Anita when she’d been a small girl. The older man standing there wasn’t the blond man he’d seen earlier today, either.
‘Who is it, Alfred?’ The owner of the voice who’d asked that question appeared a moment later, next to the door opener. ‘Your Grace.’
Myles recognised that man. It was the same doctor who been at his house. ‘Dr Potter.’
‘Won’t you come in?’ Dr Potter asked.
‘If you don’t mind,’ Myles replied. He truly needed answers.
They walked through a small entrance area and into the doctor’s exam room, where Myles was invited to take a chair.
‘I’m assuming you have questions about the treatment I’ve been providing the Duchess,’ Dr Potter said.
Myles hid his obliviousness about treatments by simply nodding.
‘I’ll tell you what I told her,’ Dr Potter began. ‘Surgery could cause more problems than it’s worth. Of course, someone else might hold a different opinion, but my belief is that the pain and suffering she would need to endure would not be worth the surgeries. It would take more than one operation, and with each one, there would be the chance of doing more harm than good. She could end up with one leg considerably shorter, or be left completely unable to use her foot. Those are risks I wouldn’t suggest she take.’
Hell! This was why she’d come to London? This was what she’d had to do? See about having surgery? Because of him. She still thought he wanted her fixed. Myles felt sick to his stomach. Very sick.
‘I know she was disappointed,’ the doctor continued, ‘which is why I suggested the treatments we’ve been completing each day. The first few days were painful for her, and I offered her some medication, but she refused. She said the cold cloths helped ease the pain. She’s an amazing woman, but I’m sure you know that.’
‘I do,’ Myles said, sounding hoarse because his throat was thick. She was amazing and perfect. He was the one who had faults. He’d asked for trust and honesty in their marriage, yet he hadn’t given that to her. Twice now, he’d betrayed her, wrongly jumped to conclusions. Foolish conclusions because he was a fool. An idiot for comparing her to anyone else. She was different, unique. Special. Very special.
‘I’m sure you’ve noticed how well she’s responded to treatment,’ Dr Potter said. ‘Better than I had expected. Her stance and balance has improved tremendously. So has her gait. The increased flexibility in her ankle took some getting used to, and I’m very impressed by how well she’s managed that. How well she’s started using that foot. Truly, I’m shocked over her progress in such a short time.’
A mixture of feelings was filling Myles, everything from regret that he’d been the cause of more pain to her, to shame that he’d thought the change in her footsteps had been for reasons that were abhorrent, ridiculous and totally irrational. ‘She does seem to have a spring in her step, now,’ he said.
‘Exactly. Isn’t it amazing?’
It was, and he was a lout for not paying more attention to that. For thinking about himself when he should have been thinking about her. ‘Very amazing.’
‘She’s looking forward to the Christmas Ball, and I believe the dance lessons vastly aided our treatments. I’m sure she mentioned that I asked my son to join us today, to be her dance partner, because he’s about your height and build, so she could practise her steps with someone whose stride would be closer to yours than mine. It means so much to her to be able to dance with you and not stumble.’
Myles hadn’t thought he could be more regretful, but it grew again at learning the blond man was the doctor’s son. ‘I wouldn’t care if she stumbled,’ he said. ‘I wouldn’t care if we didn’t dance at all.’
‘I’m sure you wouldn’t, but it matters to her,’ the doctor said. ‘She wants to make you happy.’
Myles had never felt more humbled. ‘I was already happy. She was perfect just the way she was. Nothing about her needed to be fixed.’
Dr Potter met his gaze, then glanced away and nodded. Looking at him again, he smiled. ‘Your Grace, if I may, I’d like to tell you what I think.’
Myles nodded. ‘Please do.’
The doctor scratched his bald spot, then ran a hand over his chin before he began, ‘Imagine a young woman who had spent her entire life being told that she was worthless. That no one would ever love her. That she would never amount to more than an old maid. Whether it was true or not, that became her belief because she heard it over and over again. Then, all of a sudden, she becomes a duchess. It sounds like a fairy tale, but to the young woman, it’s more of a nightmare. Because now she has to become something else, someone else.’
Myles shook his head. ‘No, she doesn’t.’
‘She believes she does. She believes she needs to find a way to go from being unworthy to being worthy. Damaged to being repaired.’
A shiver rippled over Myles from head to toe. He looked at the doctor. ‘She doesn’t need to be told that she doesn’t need to be fixed,’ he said, thinking of the conversation between him and her after the stable episode. ‘She needs to be told that she has been fixed. Because for her entire life, she has believed that she was damaged and couldn’t be repaired.’
The doctor nodded, smiled. ‘She wants to be a duchess you can be proud of, but she has to be proud of herself first.’
Myles knew he’d never be able to repay Dr Potter for the profound thankfulness he felt, or the knowledge he’d gained. ‘These treatments, is there a chance they could cause further injury to her? Make things more painful?’
‘No, it’s simply been a matter of stretching and using muscles that had grown, well, dormant due to the way she had been walking. Let me show you.’
Their conversation continued for some time, with Dr Potter pulling out a medical book and showing him drawings and pictures while explaining his findings and treatments in full detail. When the doctor closed the book, Myles fully understood that any changes to her foot weren’t as significant as the changes about how she felt about herself. That was something he could help her with, and he was excited about that.
By the time he untied Donovan from the hitching post, it was the wee hours of the morning, but he felt like a new man. A new man with a plan.
A plan he would put in place the following morning.
A plan that would start with him kissing his wife.
Myles found Anita in her bedroom dressed in a green-and-white-striped gown and sitting on a stool as her hair was being fashioned. Their gazes met in the refection of the mirror before her as he rested a hand on the bedpost at the foot of her bed.
The apprehension in her eyes could have gutted him if he’d have let it. Instead, he smiled, giving free rein for the happiness in his heart to come through. ‘Good morning.’
‘Good morning,’ she replied. Twisting, she glanced up at Claire.
Before she could dismiss her maid, he said, ‘Please finish. Don’t mind me.’
She met his gaze in the mirror again, then nodded at the maid to finish her hair.
Her beauty was not only skin-deep; it went clear to her heart. Her big, wonderful heart that he had no right to ask for a piece of, but if she found a way to trust him enough with it, with the love it contained, he would never take it for granted. Never put anything before her and their love. Never stop proving to her how perfect she was, even after he’d convinced her of that.
He now understood what his father had said about love. About priorities. Love changed what was most important, and that was her. Would always be her.
Claire was swift in completing her duties. After a few soft words were spoken between the maid and her duchess, Claire bowed at him, then silently left the room.
Anita rose, and he stepped forward, slid the stool she’d been sitting on aside and wrapped his arms around her from behind so they were both staring into the mirror.
Dipping his head, so his face was next to hers, he said into the mirror, ‘I find myself in the position of needing to apologise to you yet again. I am very regretful for the way I behaved yesterday, and if you will forgive me, I promise that I will work harder at curbing my jealousy.’
She frowned.
He smiled. ‘It’s difficult being married to the most beautiful woman in the world.’
Rolling her eyes, she shook her head. ‘Stop right there. Jealousy was not what was wrong with you yesterday.’
‘Yes, it was.’ He pulled her back tighter against him and ran his hands over her stomach and rib cage. ‘I was jealous that you might have found someone who made you so happy, they’d put a spring in your step.’
Her eyes grew wide and she squirmed enough to loosen his hold so she could spin around and face him with an expression of disbelief. ‘You noticed?’
He kissed the tip of her nose. ‘Of course I noticed.’
Smiling, she pressed a hand to her breastbone and shook her head. ‘I did that. Put a spring in my step. There wasn’t anyone else, well, there was, but he’s a doctor. Dr Potter. I was going to tell you last night, but, well, I came here, to London, to see if anything could be done about my foot. Dr Potter said the bones have been the way they are for too long, that surgery wouldn’t help, but he created some exercises, therapy he calls it, that have helped. They’ve really helped.’
The happiness on her face, in her voice, was so great, his heart could feel it, too. ‘I’m so proud of you.’ He planted a soft kiss on her lips. ‘So very proud of you.’
She blinked several times. ‘No one ever said that to me before I met you.’
He could tell her that they should have. She’d done a lot to be proud of, but should-haves and could-haves were things from the past. This was their future. ‘You’ve never had a husband before me.’
She giggled softly. ‘No, I haven’t.’ Looping her arms around his neck, she said, ‘I think I’m getting used to it.’
Desire struck so hard he had to tighten his leg muscles all the way to his toes as their lips met. It would be so easy to ask her if she wanted to join him in his bed, and he would ask her that. Just not right now.
Not.
Right.
Now.
He repeated that several times again as their kissing became more ardent, and it took a will power that he hadn’t known existed to end the kiss. This was about her, what she needed, and he was excited to be the one to help her find it. He was also excited to give her the necklace he’d had commissioned for her to wear to the ball. ‘As enjoyable as this is, we have things to do today.’
‘We do?’
He stepped back and took a hold of her hand to lead her to the door. ‘Yes, we do.’
‘What?’
‘You’ll see.’