He’d left her. She’d been right to fear his reaction upon learning the truth. Staring at her from the shadows, hurt had filled his eyes. And then came the anger. It had rolled off him in waves as he’d donned the clothes he’d worn earlier that evening. He’d been unable to remain even for the night in the same house with his wife.
She had wanted to please him so that he would help her save Arianna. At first. That had been her reason at first.
But could she have acted the same with anyone else?
She could not have!
Only him.
After the door slammed shut behind him, she’d sat frozen on the bed, waiting for him to return. Hoping he’d only gone for a ride to cool his temper.
She’d learned many of his habits during the weeks since they’d married. Being out of doors, with his horse or tending to one of the herds—it cleared his head—helped him think.
And so she’d waited.
The next morning, she’d discovered the note in the salver and that was when terror had set in.
He’d gone to confront her father. Her father was not a man who took well to any person to question his actions.
Pemberth was a large man, a strong man. But he was also an honorable one.
Her father would use that against him.
She’d wished to depart for Bryony Manor right away but Pemberth’s driver had fled with him. Knowing Vincent was not to be alone while confronting her father gave her some small comfort. Calvin would be at his side, as well.
Two sturdy and loyal men.
All morning, she paced the stone corridors, fighting the urge to go after him. At the end of one particularly long hallway, she found herself staring at a painting. He’d pointed it out to her that first week.
Keenan. The former duke. His brother. Lila had come to know the man’s handwriting almost better than her own, she’d gone over so many documents, read pages and pages of his correspondence.
Vincent’s brother had been a good man whom her husband must have loved as much as Lila did Arianna.
How must he have hurt to believe Keenan had taken his own life? And yet…
It did not make sense.
Feeling a sense of purpose for the first time all day, she strode back to the library, opened the bottom drawer, and withdrew the secret documents once again. Letters between the local magistrate and Pemberth.
Arsenic poisoning. Small glass vial discovered in the deceased’s hand. And then she discovered the most damning evidence of all.
The suicide note.
My dearest brother,
The coffers are empty. We’re in too much debt to save the dukedom. I cannot continue this way. Please contact the Earl of Quimbly who can be found at Bryony Manor to finalize payment of my debts.
Signed,
Keenan
If she hadn’t read through the falsehood of the note, she would most certainly have known who’d written it by the extra twirl on the tail of the “Q” in her father’s name.
The note had been forged.
Her father was despicable. He’d killed Keenan. Likely he’d not been alone, he would have taken Egan and Stan, his two most loyal brutes along to assist him.
Pemberth did not have to live out his life thinking his brother had committed the unforgivable sin.
Come back to me, love. Come home!
The remainder of the afternoon she spent matching investments with notices sent of incoming shipments. Her brother-in-law had not impoverished his estate, quite the contrary.
Lila would show Pemberth everything if—no—when he returned. Because, of course, he would return to her!
Only not on this day.
After what felt like hours of tossing and turning, unable to sleep, Lila slid off of the tall bed in her husband’s chamber where she’d slept since his departure. She could take the draught. Get some rest tonight. If he did not return by tomorrow, she would enlist one of the other male servants to ride with her to Bryony Manor. Her father had killed at least once, that she knew of. He’d not hesitate to kill again.
Lila slipped through the adjoining door into her own chamber and once inside, slid open the drawer of her jewelry box and withdrew the velvet bag.
Holding up the vial of white powder, she realized she’d probably need some water.
Should she take all of it? Her mother hadn’t specified. Had she?
Use it on your husband, her mother had advised. Likely this meant that Lila would only require half the amount to sleep.
She lifted a nearby pitcher and poured some tepid water into a matching glass and then emptied a little less than half the contents of the vial.
She would sleep tonight. Tomorrow could turn out to be a very long day, indeed. He had to be all right! Please let him be unharmed. Please?
She closed her eyes, lifted the glass to her lips, and—
Something solid and wet and cold sent the glass flying from her hand.
Pemberth! Shock replaced her worry in an instant.
She hadn’t even heard him enter.
Without saying a single word, he tugged her tightly to him.
He was here! She wound her arms around his waist, feeling only relief as she pressed herself against her husband. He dripped with sweat despite the cold of the night air, but she did not care. His heart pounded rapidly beneath her ear. She didn’t mind that her nightgown absorbed the damp from his clothing. She slid her hands up to his neck and tilted her head back, taking in his haggard appearance.
“You didn’t drink it? The sleeping draught?”
She shook her head. “I never meant to hide anything—”
“It was poison! I thought I’d lost you.” He swallowed hard, searching her eyes, his hands running over her arms, her shoulders…
Poison? She shook her head. “It was for sleep.” She had just been going to drink it. “You knocked it from my hand. I haven’t slept since you left…”
He shuddered, looking pained. “Thank God. It was poison and I told you to take it and then I saw the same vial… I had to get here.”
What was he saying? Her mother had given it to her to subdue her husband. Had she actually told her it was for sleep? Or had Lila simply assumed…? “Poison?”
He nodded, and then swept her up against him again.
Her mother had told her to use it on her husband! Lila could have killed him! Confused and horrified, she clutched him back, just as tightly.
I could have killed him!
Ice cold clutched at her heart.
Oh, Mother, why?
But she knew. She’d suspected what her own mother had endured for years.
Dear God, she’d nearly taken it herself.
Pemberth tilted her head back and claimed her mouth with an onslaught so desperate that it was almost painful.
The good kind of painful.
A life affirming kind of painful.
Her heart overflowed with emotion at the same time her body hungered for her husband. “I’m sorry,” she managed to gasp against his lips.
“No. Oh, God, Lila. I am the one who is sorry.” He lifted her and she wound her legs around his waist. A need unlike any she’d known consumed her. The need to become one with this man again. A need to show her love in every way. She needed…
Him.
Dragging his mouth along her neck, her shoulders, he walked them both forward and backed her up against the wall. “My love. I thought I’d lost you.”
My love.
One of his hands released her to unfasten and then tug at his breaches. She didn’t wait.
She did not need him to prepare her. Taking hold of his length, Lila placed him at her opening.
He pressed inside. No hesitation. No questions or play.
He knew what she wanted. She ached to be filled.
This was what she’d been made for—to join with this man.
This man. “Vincent.” His name escaped on a rasping breath.
He was her other half. Together, two imperfect souls made perfect. They would seal their forgiveness and their trust and their love in an act as old as time. They would renew the promises they’d already sewn between one another.
Lila arched her back, grasping his arms with her hands at the same time his teeth tore at her gown, exposing all of her for him to consume. Like a storm that had hovered on the horizon, passion overtook them both. Lila moved with him. Deeper. Harder. Her heart sang as they mated together in their own unique rhythm, Obliterating any uncertainty. Their physical bodies said what words could never comprehend.
Gasps and moans melded with the sounds of flesh against flesh as he satisfied them both.
The wall shook behind her. Her legs trembled but it was he who held her up, he who pumped forcefully, increasing in both intensity and pace.
“Vincent!” He was her protector, her giver of pleasure.
Two last thrusts, each seemingly touching the core of her body and then, pinning her between his own body and the wall, he spent inside of her.
They stood that way, taking deep breaths, in a silence that quickly began filling with questions.
Lila grasped him around the neck once again and leaned forward.
In a rasping breath, she barely managed to whisper two words. “What happened?”