Page 19 of For The Love Of A Widow

He’d chosen everything above her: liquor, gambling, and debauchery. He’d put those trivial things above her, and she’d allowed it. She’d run away and done something with her life while he’d continued to drink himself to death.

“And you are wrong.” He turned and sat on a stool close to the counter, gesturing for her to take the other open seat. He turned and folded his arms on the island top, not waiting for her to decide to sit or remain standing. “You may not believe this, but before you married Gregory, you were the only person I had. My father had passed the year prior, and I was still grieving. In his honor—and at your father’s insistence—I solidified our courtship. But I was hurting.”

Lettie had never thought about how her marriage to Gregory had wounded Daniel. He’d always been the lighthearted sort, going with the current of things, and doing what others did or what gave him optimal pleasure.

“While a father dying, and a betrothed marrying another, are not the same as a husband passing away in battle, I can understand your need to grieve.”

“He died right before me…” Lettie was uncertain why she felt compelled to offer up the information. Daniel’s stare never left his clenched hands in front of him. “You know my parents expect you to renew our courtship and announce our betrothal in short order.”

“I have gotten the impression, though they have not said as much.” He turned to face her, bringing her legs to settle between his. Each on their own stool but their knees touching. It was more connection than Lettie had experienced in many months, and her heartbeat increased at the closeness. “But I do know I will never allow you to be coaxed into a situation you are not comfortable with. I did not demand you wed me six years ago, and I will not demand it in the next six…or ever if that is your wish.”

His words soothed her. At the same time, they raised several other questions—none she was ready to ask. “They say a marriage borne of friendship is better than living my remaining years as an aging widow. But I have known great love. How is it possible to enter into another courtship?” Especially since she’d known love, and now knew the lack of such deep emotion would hang like a cloud over every moment.

Daniel reached forward and wrapped his solid arms around her, pulling them both from their stools to stand.

Heat pooled deep within her, in a place that had only stirred when Gregory was near.

Lettie concentrated on the feel of Daniel’s large hands as they stroked her back, but that only ignited the spark into a full-fledged flame in the sensitive spot between her thighs.

For the first time in many months, she felt safe and protected.

She was safe and protected in Daniel’s embrace.

He would never allow any harm to come to her, of that she was convinced.

But with that knowledge came the realization it had been far longer since she’d felt secure. Had it been years? Possibly since she’d wed Gregory and departed England for battle. Certainly, Gregory had loved her, but had he protected her from harm?

The only thing she knew for certain was that finding any pleasure from Daniel’s embrace was a betrayal to the man she claimed to love.

CHAPTER 9

Every inch of him was acutely aware of every inch of her. Lettie’s soft curves to his hard, unforgiving hulk. They should not fit so well together. He should not be holding her now, smelling the scent of vanilla soap on her short hair and dreaming of never letting her go.

All the while, he suspected she thought of another man. Wished to be embraced by him, not Daniel. Longed to smell Gregory’s scent rather than the sandalwood Daniel favored.

Why was he so willing to take any little bit of closeness she offered? Even this intimacy, knowing it was another she desired. Besides, Daniel wasn’t in need of solace; it was Lettie who’d experienced a harsh blow. He should be giving her comfort, but instead, he couldn’t think past the idea of tilting her chin up to accept his kiss.

Too soon, she pulled from his embrace, or was it Daniel whose arms fell to his sides first?

“I am sorry, I did not mean—“ Lettie started, retreating behind her stool. “It is, well, I have been so lost since Gregory died.”

He held up his hand to stop her words. She’d thought of Gregory when embracing him, that much he’d known, but he could not handle her saying it aloud.

He’d spent years thinking of her, imagining her; so much that he did not want to be faced with the reality that she hadn’t been doing the same.

Her eyes narrowed once more when he resumed his seat on the stool. “You have learned all about me. Now, what has happened to you since my departure? You seem oddly…changed.”

The shift in topic pleased him—anything to banish thoughts of her dead husband, though speaking of himself had never been pleasurable for Daniel. Maybe with Lettie, it would be. They’d kept so much from one another in their youth: her falling in love with another, and his devastation over losing his parents. He’d pushed her so far away, he hadn’t even noticed that losing her had sent him completely over the edge and into utter debauchery. It had been either find solace in booze, gaming, and brothels, or cry himself into oblivion, alone.

But how much to share with Lettie? Never would he want her to feel responsible for the life he’d chosen.

“I am older and settled into my place as a duke. When called ‘Linwood,’ I no longer feel the need to search for my father,” he said, not admitting that it had only been the past several months that he’d taken his position seriously. He could never tell her how far he’d fallen in his rakehell ways. Never would he admit that the day she’d married Gregory, he’d found comfort in a bottle of scotch and the willing arms of several strumpets. “After you left, and with both my parents gone, I needed time to adjust.”

“And you have, from what my father has said.” Lettie relented and sat back down but made no move to face him directly. “I do not expect you to forgive me for running off with Gregory, but I loved him very much.” She paused, taking a deep breath. “Still love him with every ounce of feeling left within me.”

“There is no need to explain,” he replied. “I told you then as I said today, I will never pressure you into anything, whether that me a betrothal or sampling a bite of snail.”

She laughed, but it held no depth.