Through the Smoke

Truman groaned in frustration. “This bit about worlds again.”

“Excuse me?”

“Never mind. Just make some inquiries, Linley. Help me find the perfect place for her.”

“I will.”

“Thank you.”

His butler hesitated at the door. “You could always subsidize her income, you know—if it would make you feel better.”

Truman pictured Rachel’s face, the intensity of her expression when she told him he would have to sacrifice too much to be with her. “I will happily provide for her—if only she will allow it.”

“She wouldn’t have to know it was coming from you.”

“Rachel is not so easily fooled.” He smiled at how handily she could beat him at chess and how clever she was generally.

“What kind of position should I seek for her?” Linley asked, his hand on the knob.

“One where it appears as if she’s earning as much as she makes.”

“So you’ve made your decision.”

What good would it do anyone if he died in ignominy?

“I have an entire dynasty to protect. Did I ever really have a choice?” he replied and dipped his pen in ink.

Rachel could sense the earl’s presence. He was in her room, over near the window, where he’d been the night Wythe paid her a visit.

Pushing her heavy eyelids up, she searched that corner, trying to make out his general shape, but there was no moon tonight. She could see nothing.

“My lord?” she whispered.

“I’ve disturbed you,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

Now that she was awake, she could smell a hint of the tobacco he smoked in his pipe. That must’ve been what gave his presence away, because he’d made no sound. “Is something wrong?”

“No, go back to sleep.” He started to leave as if he regretted ever coming in, but she called him back.

“Wait.”

He turned. “Yes?”

“Something’s changed. I can tell. What is it?”

“I searched the ledgers, Rachel. There is nothing in there that will benefit me, just the tantalizing clue of that extra payment.”

“At least we have proof of that.” She hesitated. “Is that all?”

“No. I just wrote a letter to the Duke of Pembroke.”

“Making the commitment?”

“Yes.”

There was conviction in his voice she hadn’t heard there before.

She hated the thought of him being with anyone else, and yet she couldn’t fault him for taking the prudent course, the course she felt he should take. “When?”

“We haven’t set a date. The duke has demanded that I make other arrangements for you first.”

She squeezed her forehead. She’d known this was coming but… so soon? “I see.” She swallowed hard. “Will I be taking Geordie with me?”

“If you wish. I would never attempt to deprive you of your brother, of anything,” he added.

“How long do we have before—”

“Maybe a fortnight, just enough time to make inquiries.”

“You’re thinking I should go to London?”

“That would probably provide you with the most opportunity.”

She tried to imagine herself in a bustling metropolis and couldn’t. She’d heard and read about London but had never been there. She hadn’t been much farther than Newcastle. “I would rather Geordie stay here if… if at all possible. He’s only just settled in, and he likes it so much.” She forced a smile even though he couldn’t see it. “Where else will he find a mentor like Mr. Grude?”

“Then I will respect your wishes, of course. And I will take care of him—I promise you that.”

She allowed her smile to fade. “Thank you.”

He spoke again once he was standing in the threshold of the door between their rooms. “I wish.…”

“Yes?”

“I wish things could be different, Rachel.”

It wasn’t easy to withstand the ache in her chest. She would never meet anyone else like him—and would measure every man against him. “That’s enough for me.”

“If only wishing were enough for me,” he said and left.

Rachel lay awake, listening to the noises she heard next door. The floor creaked. Something clanged as if the earl had thrown it. After an hour or so everything went quiet, but at that point Rachel couldn’t remain in bed any longer. They had a fortnight, maybe three weeks, at most. She had to be with him while she could.

Truman had just gone to bed when he heard the door open. He knew it was Rachel. The sound hadn’t come from the hall. He waited, wondering what she would do. Part of him hoped she’d change her mind and return to her own bed without engaging him—because if she’d come for the reason he guessed, he wouldn’t be able to refuse her.

“My lord?”

“Rachel…” He told himself to send her back to her room while he could think straight, but the only thing he got out was her name.

“The last time we were together, I… I wasn’t as aware of what was happening as I wish I would’ve been.”

He could hardly hear above the racket of his heart. “You realize what you’re saying.”

“You can’t offer me anything. I accept that. I just… I don’t want that single memory to be the only one I take with me.”

“If only I had the strength to make myself tell you to leave. This isn’t fair to you.”

“There’s no way to preserve my honor when the rest of the world thinks we’re lovers already.”

“You know better. That’s what counts.”

“I’m not sure it does, not if I’m spreading my legs for you every night in my dreams,” she said and her nightdress hit the floor with a soft poof.

Chapter 16

Truman knew he was only making their eventual parting more painful, but he couldn’t deny himself this one night. Not when she wanted him as badly as he wanted her. Not when she was standing at his bedside already naked.

“I can barely breathe,” she murmured as he reached for her.

He groaned as her bare skin came into contact with his. “I’m almost afraid to believe this is real,” he responded and dipped his head to kiss her.

Her lips were warm and pliable. He could tell, as he had before, that she had little experience with men. There was nothing practiced or calculated about her actions. But he was pretty sure that was what he loved most: her emotional honesty, her lack of artifice. Katherine had behaved as if she were putting on a performance and expected him to be grateful for the sacrifice and effort it required. She’d never really seemed to feel anything.