The Duke's Divorce (The Reluctant Grooms Series Volume IV) (3 page)

Robert entered the room. His cravat was
loosened and the button of his shirt collar opened. She could see
the top of his chest. She shivered remembering his nakedness that
morning. Could it have only been twelve hours since this
humiliating debacle began?

“How many covers are there?” Robert
asked.

“Covers, my lord?”

“Yes, how many covers are there on the
bed?”

Fiona counted. “Three, my lord. Why?”

“I shall sleep under two of them. I have no
intention of sleeping in a chair. We have an intolerable journey
ahead of us and I wish to get a good night’s sleep.” He spoke in a
terse tone, as if scolding a child.

“As you wish, my lord.” Fiona wondered if
either of them would get any sleep.

She turned her head as he began to undress,
and felt the bed dip as he climbed into it. The blankets allowed
her to feel his warmth, but not his form. For that, she was
grateful.

“Good night, Fiona,” Robert said.

“Good night, my lord.”

Fiona lay in the dark, listening to her new
husband’s breathing become even and heavy. Soon he was snoring. She
would never sleep.

Images came unbidden. A sudden storm,
lightning flash. The spooked horse, rearing, pawing at the stinging
rain. The woman unseated, falling, falling, hitting the ground, the
sound drowned out by the thunder. Another blaze across the sky. The
woman lay lifeless, her neck at an odd angle. The horse, pawing at
the woman on the ground. Blood, bones breaking. A sound echoed in
her mind. Screaming. Someone was screaming.

“Fiona, wake up. Fiona, what is it?”

Someone grabber her arms. She fought to reach
her mother.

“Fiona, wake up.”

She opened her eyes. The Duke of Cantin sat
on the bed holding her arms.

“Fiona, are you all right? Is it a nightmare?
Fiona, are you awake? Look at me.”

She looked into his eyes. The concern on his
face was palpable. Fiona looked around the room, still bathed in
darkness save for the dying embers of the fire.

“My lord, yes. I am awake now.” She shook her
head to clear the remnants of the dream. “Forgive me. ‘Twas an old
and powerful nightmare brought on by the storm.”

Robert released her, leaning back on his side
of the bed. “May I get you something? Water, brandy perhaps?”

“No, thank you. I will be well. I’m sorry for
disturbing your sleep.”

He touched her shoulder. “Would you like to
tell me about it?”

Fiona wrestled with the idea. She had never
talked about that day. Not even to her father.

“I do not know if I can.”

“It might help to calm you.”

She took a deep shaky breath and began. “My
mother and I were riding and a sudden storm blew up. Lightning
spooked her horse and when he reared, she fell off and broke her
neck. I did not realize she was dead. I was only ten. I tried to
help her, but I could do nothing to save her. I lay down with her
until the storm passed, until my father found us. He was
heartbroken, of course. He cursed me, and my mother, and the
blasted horse. I realize now, he was grief stricken, as he loved my
mother severely. I caught a fever after the storm and lay in bed
for weeks. I overheard my father say to the doctor that he wished I
had been the one who died. Our relationship has never been the
same. I blame myself for my mother’s death, as does he. If it had
not been for me wanting to ride that day, she would still be
alive.” Fiona could not help the tears as they coursed down her
cheeks. The nightmare was bad enough, but now, to be set upon with
all the emotion it always wrought, was unbearable.

Robert gathered her into his arms and leaned
back against the headboard. No one had ever held her while she
cried, except for her mother, and she had been gone fifteen years.
The incongruity of the situation struck her. For the first time
since her mother’s death, someone finally gave consolation after
her nightmare. And it just so happened to be her husband.

Robert said nothing while he stroked her
hair. Fiona’s assessment of him at Stewart had been a pompous,
arrogant, money-grubbing Englishman and his dealings with her
father left no room for seeing him in any other light. The notion
of their subsequent annulment left her cold. But here, now, in his
arms, she couldn’t help think he was not so unfeeling as she once
thought.

She could not be sure if it was the stroking
of her hair, or his warmth as it permeated her skin, but she felt
comforted and safe, and soon she fell back into a dreamless
sleep.

Something tickled her nose. She opened her
eyes to find herself lying on the chest of a man. She dared not
move until her brain registered where she was and with whom –
married to the Duke of Cantin, in an inn, on their way back to
London. She had had a nightmare about her mother and he had
comforted her, and allowed her to fall asleep in his arms.

With the greatest care, she moved until she
could see his face. Handsome in sleep, more so in waking hours, she
wondered if she would ever know him or if that was folly on her
part. The fact that they were married now meant nothing. According
to him, they would only be polite strangers at best.

Gently she slipped from the bed and found her
dressing robe. She padded to the window and squinted against the
bright new dawn, not a cloud in the clear blue sky.

“Are you feeling better, Fiona?”

She turned to face Robert. “Yes, my lord,
thank you.”

Robert moved to get out of bed. Fiona turned
back to the window. She heard rustling and grunting behind her, but
dared not look.

“I know this is an impossible situation at
present,” he said. “I shall make sure the next lodging we find will
accommodate us both in separate rooms. I will leave you to your
toilette and then we shall have breakfast before we depart.”

Fiona turned and found him almost dressed.
“Yes, my lord.”

He shrugged into his coat. “If you wish, you
may call me Robert. Or if that does not suit, perhaps, Cantin. I
should not like you to address me as ‘my lord’ all the time. For
the nonce you are my wife, not my servant.”

Fiona nodded.

“There.” He adjusted his neck cloth in front
of the small mirror on the dresser. “I shall await your arrival
downstairs in the parlour where we dined last night. I am glad you
are an early riser. I should like to get back to London as soon as
possible.” He walked to the door and reached for the latch.

“Robert,” she said softly. “Thank you for
your kind understanding last night.”

He smiled. “’Twas the least I could do.” And
he left her alone to dress.

*****

Robert made his way downstairs, and after
securing a private table for breakfast, informed the innkeeper they
would be leaving and to prepare the bill. He left instructions if
his wife arrived before he returned to proceed with breakfast he
would be along shortly.

Robert went out to the stable yard, found his
coachman and grooms, and told them to be ready within the hour. He
then left the inn yard and made his way down the short street to
the shops lining the thoroughfare. He didn’t have much time, and
most were still closed, but as he made his way around the corner,
he saw a shopkeeper opening up for the day. He hurried over. As
luck would have it, it was just the place he needed. He made his
purchase, pleased with the price, and strode down the street to the
inn.

Fiona was waiting for him at table, pouring
herself a cup of tea. She appeared surprised to see him.

“I hope I have not kept you waiting long,” he
said as he slipped into his chair.

“No, my lord. I have only just arrived. Shall
I pour?”

“Please.” Robert waited until she finished
before removing the small black velvet box from his pocket. He
cleared his throat.

Fiona looked at him.

“I decided not to wait until we arrived in
London to give you this, for many reasons, but also, well, you are
my wife now.” He placed the box on the table in front of her.

Fiona looked at the box and then at him.
“What is this?”

“Open it and see.”

She took the jewelry box and flipped the lid
open. Inside on white velvet lay a square cut diamond ring
surrounded by smaller green stones, emeralds perhaps, interlaid
with gold filigree. A plain gold band lay underneath.

“I hope you like them,” Robert said.

“What is it?” she asked, her eyes wide.

“It is a wedding set.”

“For me?”

“Of course for you. I do not have another
wife.” Robert wondered at her incredulous expression. Did she not
think he would buy her a wedding ring?

“It looks so expensive,” she said. “Surely,
you do not wish to spend so much on a wedding set for a marriage
that will not last.”

Robert tried to keep his voice calm. “Fiona,
‘tis just a small token. Without a ring on your finger too many
questions would be asked at the next inns, and I have no wish to
have eyebrows raised in my direction.”

She looked at him again. Her face was a mask,
but the shimmer in her eyes told him another story. She did seem
pleased. She slipped the gold band, and then the diamond onto the
ring finger of her left hand.

“They fit perfectly,” she whispered. She held
her hand away from the table and admired the rings. A tear slipped
down her cheek. “Thank you, my lord. They are beautiful. I shall
treasure them always.”

Just then, the innkeeper’s wife brought their
breakfast. Fiona ate heartily and Robert couldn’t help smile as he
watched, as time and again, Fiona’s gaze went to her new rings.

*****

Fiona could not keep from staring at her
hand. The rings were exquisite. Jostling in the carriage, every so
often the light from the open window would catch the diamond and
send sparkling rainbows swirling throughout the equipage. Robert
had bought them for her. For her. Every time she thought of it,
another tide of tears would start. She had not received a present
since before her mother had died. That had been her pony, which her
father sold, along with her mother’s horse after her mother was
killed. She had never received another gift until this morning.

“I assure you, they will not fly away,”
Robert said.

Fiona startled at the sound of his voice. She
thought he was asleep. “Of course, my lord. I just cannot believe
how beautiful they are and that they are mine.”

“Trust me, Fiona, they are yours.” Robert sat
up and looked out the window. “We are almost to Hawick. We have
made very good time these last few days together. I’m glad the
weather was for us. If it holds, I think we may arrive in London a
day ahead of schedule.”

Fiona’s stomach did a flop. London. She had
no idea what she would find there. She had been at school in
Edinburgh, but that was nothing to compare to London she was
sure.

“Tell me, what is London like?” Fiona
asked.

“Big, loud, noise filled, fog filled, people
filled. It is not somewhere I choose to live, but that I must live.
For a period of time anyway. I have duties to Parliament, but I
soon hope to remove from Town. I find I am more suited to country
life.”

“Aye, I am as well.” She wondered how she
would truly get on in the big city. “What is your home like? Is it
very grand?”

“Yes, I believe you could say that.” Robert
puffed up his chest just a little bit.

“I very much look forward to seeing it.”

Robert flushed. “Ah, Fiona, that is something
I have been thinking about.”

“Aye?” She didn’t like his tone.

“I thought it best if you stayed at a hotel.
I had not thought to present you to my family. After all, with an
expedited annulment, there is no need for you to acquaint yourself
with the affairs of being the duchess. It would only prove
imprudent to introduce you as my wife.”

She looked out the carriage window. “I
see.”

“I will, of course, take care of
everything.”

Fiona brought her fingers up to her eyes.
First, he tried to buy her virtue. Now, he wanted to buy her
silence. The man was a cad.

“Which hotel?” she asked.

“Claridge’s naturally. There is no finer
establishment in London,” he said smugly.

“And should you wish me to remain therein
until the paperwork is signed or will you allow me the freedom to
see the city sights?”

“Fiona, I did not mean….”

“Yes, my lord, you did. Do not worry, I shall
not tell anyone who I am. I shall not speak to another living
soul.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I am sure with my
exceedingly plain attire, no one shall give me a moment’s
notice.”

He opened his mouth to try to explain
further, but she held up her hand. “Please, my lord, do not speak.
I should not wish to hear it.”

The remainder of the trip was silent.

During the course of the next five days, they
conversed as polite acquaintances, told stories from their youth,
and Robert seemed very surprised when he found Fiona could address
such varied topics, from the poet Robert Burns to animal husbandry.
As they entered London, Fiona’s eyes grew round. London was
certainly much bigger than Edinburgh was.

As they gained the heart of the city, Robert
asked if she would like to have tea at the hotel while he conducted
his business with the solicitor. She acquiesced and he brought her
to Claridge’s.

Settling her at a table, he said, “I shall
not be overlong, and upon my return I will speak to the concierge
about your accommodations.”

Fiona refused to meet his eye. “Very
well.”

Robert departed and the waiter brought her
tea and a small plate of very sweet biscuits. She took in the
splendor of the establishment and thought she might enjoy it here.
At least he had been generous and not put her up at some
out-of-the-way inn. For that, she was grateful.