Either way, it was not something he wished to endure again. And if Catherine was right, and Mrs. Dove-Lyon was just playing with people’s emotions for her own amusement, then she would heardirectly from him if something happened to Catherine. He tried not to think about her on the birthing bed because he would go mad if he did, imagining the same fate that might befall his second baroness.
He knew for certain that he couldn’t withstand another loss like that. If she died, they might as well dig the grave deeper and shove him inside too.
Dinner that eveningwas a solemn affair. Both of the occupants had met in the dining room, but each was lost to their own thoughts. The food was moved about by their utensils instead of actually consumed and when Catherine could handle the silence no longer, she pushed her plate aside and suggested they retire to the parlor. “I could do with a round of piquet, and something tells me you could do with the same.”
He gave a snort, but he pushed back his chair and followed as she led the way to more intimate surroundings.
As she settled herself, he gathered a deck of cards and shuffled. Once he’d passed out the requisite number, he set the stack aside and they played in silence for a time, their respective concentration appearing to be honed in on the game.
Each round passed and they spoke only when necessary, until Benjamin finally gave a sigh and set down his hand. “Forgive me. I fear my concentration is off this evening. If you will excuse me—”
“Only if you allow me to join you.”
He paused and glanced at her. “Are you certain?”
She realized the impact her words would have if she recalled her statement, but at the same time, she didn’t want to. She’d taken a short repast, but most of the time, she had been thinking about herassociation with Benjamin. Her reflection had made her consider the sacrifices he’d made on her behalf. And since she’d enjoyed sharing his bed, there was no point in denying themselves what they both seemed to want. It wasn’t as though it would make a difference if he chose to run into the arms of another woman. That was an eventuality. It always was. But until then, she might as well find some comfort in the present.
With Benjamin.
She stood and held out her hand to him. “Yes.”
That night, their coupling was slow and sensual. It was still filled with the same passion as before, but it was as if they both needed the reassurance that coming together so intimately would provide. When Catherine reached her peak, Benjamin joined her and they fell off the precipice as one. It nearly caused tears to come to her eyes, it was so beautiful and full of the meaning she wished would remain for the rest of their lives.
Afterward, as Benjamin held her, his hand stroking her bare arm, Catherine had never felt more safe or secure. Even in her father’s house, she had always been plagued by her parents’ turmoil and the belief that no matter what she did, she would never be able to live up to the expectations of the daughter of the incomparable Duke of Lancaster.
However, in this moment, with her husband, she was perfectly content. She knew that he had his faults too and that he didn’t look down upon her for rebelling against a society that would never accept her for who she was, which was more than what everyone expected of her.
As much as she didn’t want to give Mrs. Dove-Lyon credit, she had to grudgingly admit that the lady had chosen well.
That didn’t mean she intended to give up her quest. As soon as Benjamin’s investigator returned with the names of a few matches that the lady had paired together, Catherine fully intended to find out howtheir associations were faring. All she needed was one other couple to speak out against the Black Widow before the woman’s reputation would start to crumble.
Settling herself against Benjamin’s warmth, her side tucked up against his, her slightly enlarged abdomen with the life blooming inside of her nestled between them, she fell asleep with a smile on her face.
If only she could embrace this day, wrap it up, and hold it next to her heart forever.
Then she wouldn’t have to worry about tomorrow.
The next fewdays passed by in a blur of activity with craftsmen descending on Fontaine Hall to make the necessary repairs to bring it back to its glory days. Benjamin was starting to get excited when he imagined doing what his father had failed to do, and that was preserve the Fontaine legacy. For years, he’d had to stare at the crumbling walls and sagging roof, but now the sounds of labor surrounding him was almost music to his ears.
The interior was also getting a much-needed refreshing. His wife had a keen eye for color palettes and ideas of how she might like certain rooms to be decorated. As the housekeeper followed her from room to room writing down her every demand, Benjamin found himself transfixed by his wife’s intelligence more than once.
Sometimes he would find himself pausing by an open doorway when he heard her voice and hesitate, leaning against the frame as he watched her face animate with excitement. It was the one gift he could give her, making this house into a home. For her. And he was more than happy to offer her that chance. He had the feeling she’d alwaysbeen ignored by her father, and perhaps her mother as well, fixated as they had been on their own peccadilloes and forgetting that they’d had a daughter who’d been in dire need of their attentions.
Every night, she came to his bed when he didn’t visit hers, and even if they didn’t come together, which wasn’t very often, she seemed to find solace just being near him. It was almost as if she were still that child seeking reassurance, searching for the love she’d been denied.
Fortunately, it hadn’t taken Benjamin long to admit that he had fallen helplessly in love with his lovely bride. She was the second half of his soul, the missing piece that he hadn’t allowed to live inside his heart before. He knew he should tell her how he felt, but he hesitated more than once when he’d been on the cusp of revealing everything. He just wasn’t certain that his feelings would be reciprocated. He didn’t expect her to claim love in return when she didn’t truly feel the same, but neither was he prepared to see a look of horror in her eyes if he spoke his deepest desires and she turned away. The wound would cut like a razor blade, especially since he had never allowed his heart to feel anything more than bitterness and absolute devastation before now. He was also afraid that this might be his penance for all the bad things he’d done, doomed to love the one person who would not love him in return.
He knew the confession would spill out eventually, likely at the worst time. And when it did, he decided that he would try to smooth over the faux pas the best that he could. Until then, he was content just to watch her and know that she lived under the same roof, that she was his wife, which meant that he had already won her hand, if not her heart, even if it had been by default.
At least he’d heard some positive news in the interim. Mr. Steele had written back to him the following day with a reply saying that he would take the case, as Benjamin had already surmised. He claimed it wouldn’t take long for him to come up with a list of candidates whowould suit their purpose, the couples who still made London and the surrounding areas their home.
As far as his stepsister, he had yet to hear from Beatrice, but he hadn’t really expected to do so. But at least he could now say his conscience was clear. It might have been better to travel to Scotland and apologize in person, but he honestly didn’t know what his reception would be. And since he was attempting to engage in this fragile new relationship with Catherine, Benjamin didn’t want to leave and cause anything to jeopardize that.
As Catherine cast a quick glance at him and smiled, the joy on her face shooting right into his chest, Benjamin reluctantly left the parlor and began to return to his study.
Before he could enter the room, he was intercepted by his butler. “Yes, Mr. Bartholomew?”
He held out a silver salver with a single letter on top. “This just arrived for you, my lord.”
