Page 26 of Pride of Lyons

“Thank you, Mrs. Fitzhugh.” He smiled at the cook, then left for the small study off the library he used as an office and dashed off his letters in quick succession. He was about to seal the one to Geoffrey when he remembered they’d need a doctor present at the duel as well. Best have Geoffrey bring one from London, as none was present in the vicinity of the Keep. The postscript added, Thomas sealed the letter with red wax and set his family ring into it. He rang for Pearce and gave instructions for them to be posted immediately.

The butler took the letters, bowed, and left Thomas, who rose and poured a tumbler of brandy, a good reward for a job well done. At least he’d set in motion the things he could for today, save the one thing that had been preying on his mind ever since he’d challenged Danford. Righteous though his actions may have been, he had nevertheless set himself on a path that could end with him dead on the grass, with no son to inherit the earldom.

Thomas took a large gulp of the cognac, enjoying the burn as it chased itself down into his belly. He’d thought he and Honoria would have as much time as they needed to produce an heir. But now, much to his regret, they might have no time at all. They had not lain together even once, which Thomas regretted, but would not have changed given the circumstances of their marriage. Unfortunately, in three days their chances to do so might be irrevocably taken from them—unless he could persuade Honoria to allow him into her bed for these three precious nights.

The thought of asking such a thing, when he’d promised he wouldn’t, sat very ill with him. But circumstances had changed, and though there was no guarantee that they might conceive a son in the next few days, there was no chance at all if they did not at least try. He’d believed he and Honoria had gotten along very well over the past weeks. She’d not rebuffed his good-night kisses—indeed, she’d seemed to enjoy them. And when he’d carried her to her chamber just now, she’d seemed totally comfortable in his arms.

Thomas ran a hand through his hair. If he did not ask her, he’d be shirking his duty to his title, to his family line. So, he must at least ask if she’d allow him the intimacies of husband and wife. However, if she said no or even hesitated overmuch, he’d honor her wishes and damn the consequences. Pray God he was a better shot than Danford.

He downed the rest of the brandy, then quit the room. Best to confront his wife now, so he would know better how to proceed. His slight knock on the door drew a sleepy, “Come in.” Squaring his shoulders, he opened the door and entered.

The room was the same as when he’d left her scarcely an hour before, save Honoria now lay under the covers, the lacy edge of her night rail just peeping out, her tousled hair streaming over the pillow.

Thomas’s mouth dried at the sight, desire for her so strong he could feel it coursing throughout his body.

She smiled sleepily at him. “Thank you for sending up the toddy. It relaxed me wonderfully well.”

An innocent’s face with a seductress’s body. Lord, how was he to ask this woman to let him into her bed? He wouldn’t dream of it, had the need not been so dire. “You’re welcome, my dear. Are you feeling better?”

“I don’t think I felt badly before.” She stretched and sat up in bed, the covers falling down enough to show the front of her nightgown, thin white material that left little to the imagination about her breasts. “But the nap did refresh me.”

God, he could see the darkened tips of her nipples as they pressed against the translucent fabric. He swallowed hard and tried to smile without leering as he approached the bed. “I am glad you were able to rest.”

“Sit here, Thomas.” She patted the mattress next to her, and he groaned as he slid onto the bed. “Tell me, do you truly intend to duel with Lord Danford?”

His eyebrows furrowed. “Do you doubt it, Honoria? After he all but ravished you on my own property? In my own garden?”

“I know you will meet him,” she twisted her hands together, “but will you actually shoot at one another? Don’t duelists sometimes shoot into the air instead?”

“They do.” He wondered where her thoughts were going with this. “But I do not intend to follow that course of action. I doubt Danford does either.”

“Why not?” Her eyes searched his face. “Wouldn’t your honor be served as well by firing into the air as the other way would?”

“I suppose honor would be served, but that is not my only intention. I mean to kill Danford so he will no longer be a threat to you.” Thomas was surprised she didn’t understand that instinctively. He certainly had.

“But then he might kill you instead, Thomas.” Her hand stole out to take his. “I cannot bear to think of that happening.”

He squeezed her hand, then took it in both of his. “I know that is the risk I take, my dear, but I cannot trust the man to act honorably when I see no glimmer of honor in him.”

Tears had formed in Honoria’s eyes. “What would I do if you…if you…”

“I am making provisions if the worst should happen.” He had to look away from her. The sight of her forlorn face stabbed him in the heart. “I will make a new will that will give you as much financial security as is within my power. And my friend Geoffrey will look after your affairs if you will allow him to advise you. He will also call out Danford and dispatch him if I have not already done so.”

“Oh, Thomas, I don’t want you to do this. Not for me.” Her tears were now flowing freely down her cheeks, twisting his heart as they fell onto her breasts. “I do not want to lose you, my love.”

“My love.” He pulled her against his chest and leaned his head against her. So very precious. “You must allow me to defend my honor and yours. You must see I cannot act in any other manner and remain a gentleman.”

“I know that.” She sniffed as if trying to get herself under control. “I promise you I do understand. But I also know that I cannot bear to think that you might be taken from me.”

He leaned her back so he could see her face, beautiful despite the tears. “Honoria, I might be taken from you at any time. Or you from me. We are not promised the morrow, although we have faith each day that it will be given us. What we can do is to cherish the time we have, each day we are given to be together, and pray God will be merciful.”

She sighed and hung her head, then nodded.

Thomas steeled himself. He now wished more than ever not to have to ask this of her, but again, he had no choice. “I came here to ask something of you, Honoria.”

Raising her head, she wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her nightgown and sighed. “What is it?”

Now the time was here he scarcely knew what words to say. “If it is God’s will that I die, I would ask that I be able to do so with the hope that I will leave behind a child to comfort you when I am gone.” He glanced at her for some indication of how that suggestion sat with her. “Hopefully, an heir to carry on the family line.”