AllFreeNovel
Share Us
CHAPTER7
Verity tucked baby Thomas back in his crib but refused Ethan’s offer of having a bed made up for her. She knew from one glance at the duke, that if she accepted that suggestion, that she would not be sleeping alone. There was Artie to think of, and it was not so far to the inn, and from there to the cottage was only another fifteen minutes. The moon was full and high, and they could ride that distance before it set. Ethan demanded the directions to the small cottage they lived in, which she provided. He then let her out the front door of the house and watched her go.
She walked down the drive under his burning stare. When she reached the main gates, she waited for Ethan to go inside and the door to close before whistling the call of a curlew, hoping that Artie would hear. Shortly after, running crouched, Artie appeared from the cover of some trees.
“Ye do not have little Thomas,” he said.
“No,” Verity replied with a sigh. “For reasons I do not as yet understand, the duke is determined to keep him.”
“Wot are we going to do?”
She inhaled softly. “The duke asked me to marry him. That way I will get to be a mother to little Thomas.”
Artie stumbled. “Wot! You’ll be a bleedin’ duchess?”
“Are you so certain I said yes?”
“Of course—you love little Thomas.”
Verity smiled and slung a hand around Artie’s shoulder. “It will take some adjustment on our parts, but I am not worried.”
“Our parts?”
It was then she heard the tremble in his voice. “Yes, we are not to be parted.”
A big sigh of relief came from his small body. “Wot if the duke says me cannot come with you?”
She had come across Artie stealing from their small gardens. He had appeared half starved, and so desperate Verity’s heart had softened, and he had stayed with Verity ever since. “You are my family, Artie. He will not say so,” she promised. “I suspect the duke to be kinder that we might have anticipated.”
“The Devil Duke?” he asked skeptically. “Kind?”
Verity chuckled, resenting that she still had that nervous energy coursing through her veins. “We shall see, won’t we?”
They walked to where they had left the horses and then set off for the cottage together. She tried her very best to dismiss the wicked kiss from her awareness, but found herself anticipating this next chapter in her life. Only a few weeks ago she had sat under a beech tree, staring at the lowering sun, and wondered what the future might hold for their family. Everything had felt frightful and uncertain, as their money dwindled and Catherine sank deeper into her melancholy.
And now tonight…
Her recklessness had opened a door not anticipated; however, Verity would do her best to ensure she succeed at her new role, while she protected her pride and heart. She had understood what the duke meant when he said he valued pragmatism and logic, the antithesis of love and romantic notions. The ton tended to mock any hint of tender emotions between man and wife, thinking it very unfashionable, and the duke appeared to be like-minded.
Pragmatism and logic.
I’ll not be a fool, she silently vowed, but I will be a good duchess and mother to Thomas.
* * *
Ethan slept restlessly,his dreams fitful nightmares of a mangled carriage and a man dying in his arms. At some time throughout the night, those terrible dreams transformed into ones of Lady Verity splayed naked on his bed, while he showed her the delights of carnal pleasure. When he rose at dawn, he washed and shaved in cold water, but even the chill of the water did not reduce the desire for his newly affianced bride that his body wanted to make apparent.
“Bloody rubbish,” he muttered. “As if I am a lad unable to contain my passions.”
Ethan dressed and headed for his library. It looked a little dusty and he admitted that they would need more servants now that he was bringing a bride to his main country home. He interviewed a young nursemaid from the village, and after finding her suited for the task, hired her to care for Thomas. He then composed a letter to the Bishop of London, with whom he was acquainted. The Bishop was an amiable old man with a fine palate for good claret and setting a fine table. Ethan could imagine the bishop’s chuckles as he read his imperative demand for a special license for the duke to marry one Lady Verity Stanton.
A lady I owe, even if I had not known it when I made my initial offer.
His letter would need to be taken directly to the old man, with orders to wait for a reply. Ethan wrote a more polite note to the Prince Regent to inform him of his impending marriage, although he doubted that gentleman would care. Technically, he could refuse to permit the marriage, but Ethan was a long way from the line of succession, and as Verity was an earl’s daughter, unmarried and not a Catholic, he doubted that Prinny would make trouble.
See that you end it.
Recalling those impassioned words from Verity, Ethan withdrew another sheaf of paper. He had not seen his mistress in over a year, and his visits to her boudoir had become infrequent and hurried. As a point of courtesy, and that she had been a friend in his darkest moments, he did, however, owe her an explanation before the news of his marriage reached the newspapers. Ethan wrote to thank her, terminating their arrangement and enclosed a generous bank draft as her congé. He had considered that he would write another letter to Verity’s parents, but as their seat was not far away, it would be more correct to call on them and inform them of his intentions. He doubted they would object either. Few fathers would sniff at marrying off their disgraced daughter to a duke, any duke, no matter how old or eccentric.
