A Scandalous Marriage (14 page)

“You take care of her,” Old Edith reiterated, and Leah could have kissed the woman.

Her son nursed eagerly. She watched him, this simple act giving her a sense of satisfaction, of completion. And an understanding that she was doing the right thing for Ben.

Old Edith pulled back the curtain and stepped into the room. She carried a huge basket. “Mrs. Wright had this out in the coach. It is filled with clothes and nappies, and there’s a nice thick blanket made of fine fleece to keep that wee one warm. Lord Huxhold also managed to find a wool cape for yourself. He has another hamper this size full of food. Mind me, you eat well. Drink ale. It will keep your milk coming.

And don’t move unless you must.”

“That’s one piece of advice that won’t be hard to follow,” Leah said, still sore from her labor. She burped Ben on her shoulder, already handling her baby with confidence, before rising. “Thank you, Old Edith. Thank you for everything.”

The Scotswoman’s eyes grew misty. “Don’t thank me. It was him that did it. I could have lost both of you. He wouldn’t let me.” She pushed a stray lock of Leah’s hair back from her face. It was a motherly gesture. “Listen, missy, one piece of advice and then I will say no more. Sometimes, the marriages that start off the worst are the best. Just remember, marriage is work. Every day, it is work.”

“Well, I know how to work,” Leah admitted ruefully. And she had the calluses to prove it. She began changing her son and wrapping him in the fleece.

“Aye, you do,” the midwife agreed softly. “And don’t be afraid of it.”

Leah nodded, unwilling to betray her doubts.

“He cares for you, lass,” the midwife said as if reading her mind.

Leah didn’t answer. Instead, she pressed a kiss against the older woman’s cheek. “It is time for me to go.”

Out in the main room, the vicar and his wife had already left. Old Edith made Leah drink a cup of tea and eat some bread and cheese. The cheese was buttery smooth and like nothing Leah had eaten since she’d run away. It must have come from Lord Ruskin’s pantry.

Devon paced restlessly outside the door. She had to go.

“Don’t forget the drawer,” Old Edith said.

“But the cupboard—?” Leah started to protest.

Old Edith waved her on. “Adam can make another for his mother. Your son needs it.”

Old Edith placed the red cape around Leah’s shoulders. Made of the finest material, it enveloped her and her son. “You are a true lady, lass,” the midwife reminded her.

A lady.
The words made her light-headed. Leah wasn’t certain what it all would mean. She’d have to sort it out in her mind before they reached London.

Devon called from the door. “Leah, we must leave.” He took the drawer from Old Edith and put it on the floor of the coach, placing warming bricks around it. He offered his hand to Leah. Instead of letting him help her up, she took off the signet ring and placed it in his palm, explaining, “I will lose it.”

His hand closed around it, and then he placed it back on his hand. “Let us go.”

She climbed into the coach.

To her surprise, he turned and thanked the midwife for her services. “I wish I hadn’t thrown my purse at Mrs. Pitney to buy a bed, but you will be compensated as soon as I reach London.”

“Take care of Leah, and that will be compensation enough,” Old Edith answered.

Devon nodded his reply. He stepped up into the coach, signaling the driver for them to be on then-way before he’d even shut the door.

Inside, Devon sat back in the green velvet seats and ran his hand over his jaw. “I should have shaved.”

She didn’t answer or look at him. Her baby in her lap, she stared out the window until they’d rounded a curve and the small farm that had been her haven vanished from sight.

She was on her way to London. The road was deeply rutted with frozen mud, and the coach rocked back and forth in spite of its good springs.

The reality of what she’d done in marrying Devon struck her full force. Her father and brothers would be furious. And what would she say when she saw her mother, the woman who had threatened to destroy her baby?

At last, she roused herself from her dark thoughts to face Devon. She turned—and discovered he’d fallen fast asleep. He was slumped down in his seat, his arms crossed, his long legs bent in an uncomfortable position in the close confines of the coach.

He looked like anything but a hero.

Once again, some inner voice whispered he had an ulterior motive in mind for marrying her. For all his seeming nonchalance, he was a proud man. She just couldn’t divine what his true reasons were.

Of course, even if she could, would it make a difference?

He wanted her child but not her—and suddenly it made Leah angry. Her own parents had experienced more than their share of disappointment and disillusionment, but through all their trials, their love and commitment to each other had remained firm.

Now viewing the world with a woman’s eyes, Leah realized she wanted that kind of love. Her hand rested on the seat, her fingertips so close to Devon that she could touch the buff-colored leather of his breeches. Devil-may-care Devon. At one time, there had been magic between them. Would she really let it go without a fight?

No.

As a debutante, Leah Carrollton had charmed a host of men. Now, as a woman, it was time to win the heart of her husband.

The baby’s crying woke Leah. She hadn’t realized she’d been dozing.

The world around her rumbled and moved. Slowly, she came to her senses. She was in a coach on her way to London, her body ached, and her breasts were full. Ben.

She started to sit up but stopped when she realized her feet rested on Devon’s lap. He was holding Ben, his thumb up to the baby’s lip. Ben suckled eagerly.

“He’s hungry,” Devon said to her. He looked down and answered the unspoken question about how her feet ended up in his lap. “You looked uncomfortable. I thought you would sleep better stretched out.”

She nodded. He’d even thought to remove her shoes. She was very aware of the hard muscles of the thigh beneath her stockinged foot. He had a horseman’s thighs, each muscle strong and elongated.

Her stocking had a hole in it, right over the big toe. She curled her foot reflexively to hide it. The action pushed her heel even harder against him. His muscles tensed.

So, he wasn’t completely immune to her.

Some perverse whim tempted her to leave her foot there, but that was a bolder action than she wished to take. She wasn’t ready to dare him into the intimacy of a marriage. Even if her body had been healed enough for it, which it wasn’t, she had discovered from her liaison with Draycutt that the act of love itself, the coupling, was much overrated. After the flush of infatuation wore off, being pawed by Draycutt was both boring and messy. They’d been intimate three times, but it had been two times too many for her.

Sitting up, she pulled her feet back until her skirt covered the hole in her stocking. She held her hands out for her baby. “Let me feed him.”

If Devon noticed her retreat, he made no comment… and it made her sad. She remembered standing on his shoulders, his hands around her ankles holding her so fast that she was in no danger of falling.

“I changed him,” he replied matter-of-factly. “I put the soiled nappies under the drawer.”

“You
changed him?” Leah asked, surprised. She’d heard from the village women that men wanted to have very little to do with babies and even less with a baby’s nappies.

“He fascinates me,” Devon replied. He handed the baby to her. “I swear he knows me, Leah. He responds to the sound of my voice.”

Right now, Ben was responding to his hunger, but Leah hesitated over nursing the baby in front of Devon. Women nursed in public all the time. It was a fact of life, and yet she wasn’t certain she wanted it to be a fact of
her
life.

Nor was she ready to expose a breast to Devon. She’d done so last night—but that had been life and death. Now, she pulled the red cape up over her shoulders.

“Are you cold?”

“No, I’m going to feed the baby.” She turned her back to him and awkwardly undid the back laces of her dress before slipping one shoulder down.

“I’ve seen breasts before, Leah.”

She didn’t answer. What could she say to such a comment, especially when it made her cheeks flame with color? Then Ben clamped onto her with gusto. The strength of his mouth surprised a small gasp out of her.

“Is anything wrong?” Devon asked, immediately concerned.

“No, he’s just more aggressive man he has been,” she managed to squeak out, even as she felt another wave of hot color rise in her face.

Devon settled back into the far corner, ungracefully shoving his hands in his pockets. He stared out the window. It was a dismal day, with threatening clouds hanging low in the sky, just like the day before. The silence stretched out between them. Leah switched Ben to her other breast, just as Old Edith had instructed her. In spite of traveling, everything seemed to be going fine. She had plenty of milk.

Ben finished. She brought him out from under the cape and placed him on her shoulder. The awkward silence made her feel ill at ease.

She cleared her throat. Devon didn’t waver from his concentration on the passing scenery.

“I’m glad we aren’t going to have a normal marriage,” she said.

That
captured his attention. “In what way?”

Leah took her time answering. Let him have a taste of the silent treatment. Ben had already fallen back to sleep. She checked to make sure the bricks were still warm, and then she placed the baby in his drawer, tucking the fleece in all around him.

Devon watched her, his foot tapping impatiently, and she had to hide a smile.

“It’s just nice to know,” she said at last when she knew he wouldn’t wait any longer. She was proud that she’d kept her voice carefully steady.

Devon’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. Beneath the red cape, she slipped her arms back into her dress.

His gaze dropped to her arm movements, and then he seemed to hold his breath.

Experimentally, she let the red cape drop while she reached behind her to tighten the lacings of her gown. The action thrust her chest forward, her breasts already generously overfilling the bodice of the gown.

Devon shifted restlessly now. His toe stopped tapping. He stared at an imaginary point in front of him.

Her husband may be angry with her, but he was completely male, and he thought as all males. There was hope. She could secure his affections. She knew she could. The thought made her smile.

“Why are you smiling all the time? Little smiles, like you hide a secret,” he demanded, sounding outright surly.

Leah couldn’t help tweaking his nose. “I was imagining what type of cicisbeo I would take on once we get to town.”

“Cicisbeo!”

She nodded, her expression serious, or as serious a one as she could muster. “I think it best to be—as you put it—discreet. After all, isn’t a cicisbeo the type of man that a woman pays, and therefore he has a reason not to rattle on about his lady friend’s affairs?”

Suddenly, Devon lunged across the seat. Leah found herself pressed up against the side of the coach, the weight of her husband’s body holding her prisoner. He captured her arms by the wrists and held them against the wall close to her head.

“What game are you playing?” His face was so close to hers that she could see the textured shades of green mixed with the brown of his eyes.

“I play no game,” she said bravely.

“Oh, yes you do.” He leaned closer, the roughness of his whiskered jaw barely touching her skin, his breath hot against her cheek. “There was a time when you played a merry tune and I danced because I believed we had something special, Leah. Then you sent me away. I will not trust you again.”

“Then you shouldn’t care what I do,” she whispered defiantly, forcing herself to meet his gaze. Her heart beat in her throat, but she’d rather have this than his indifference.

He moved his body against hers suggestively, and she felt his erection. His lips twisted in a self-mocking smile. “Oh, I care. I care too damn much.” He bent his head and traced the line up the curve of her neck to a sensitive point just below her ear with his lips.

“Devon.” She shivered, a combination of fear and anticipation.

Then as unexpectedly as he had attacked, he left her, throwing himself back to his side of the coach.

His eyes burned with anger. His breathing was labored, as if it had taken a great force of will to separate himself from her. “Is that the reaction you wanted from me?”

She flinched at the disdain in his voice. “Devon, please—”

“Not right now, Leah.” He bit out each word. “It’s still too raw within me.”

“What is? My liaison with David? Or that I rejected you?”

“I don’t know,” he said honestly. “It’s all jumbled in my mind. I loved you. Out of all the women in the world, I loved you.”

“Perhaps our marriage was a mistake.”

“Perhaps.”

“Or you can give me another chance to earn your love.”

“I can be damned too.” His jaw hardened. “You’re a witch, Leah. A spell-spinning witch. There was a time that I thought you were different from the others.”

“I never lied to you, Devon. You know my family needed me to marry for money.”

“Well,” he said brutally, “you didn’t disappoint them, did you?”

If he had struck her, he could not have inflicted more damage. She sat back and hugged her arms against her waist. Guilt abided deep within her. She had hoped that perhaps Devon still cared for her… even a little.

“Leah?”

She refused to acknowledge him.

“Damn it all, Leah, what is it you want? Why can’t we be in each other’s presence without being at each other’s throats?”

“
I
am not at your throat,” she corrected.
“You
are the one who is angry.”

“I am not angry.”

“ ”What are you smiling about, Leah?“ ” she mimicked him in a gruff voice. “ ‘What game are you playing?” “ She frowned. ”The only time you have expressed any emotion besides anger is when you are talking about the baby. I made a mistake, Devon. All right,“ she amended, ”I’ve made
several
mistakes.