Page 12 of No Ordinary Lady

“I’m sorry. I can’t,” he whispered, full of regret for what he was denying himself—one last perfect pleasure before he did his duty.

He smoothed her pale hair back from her face, and then drew back from her body, breathing hard. He could have had one last fling without regret. But there could be consequences for Marian later, and she was fleeing from her former friends, too.

Marian did not attempt to change his mind and dropped her eyes to the floor.

“Where will you go tomorrow?” he whispered, reaching for her face, and lifting her gaze to his again.

“I don’t know. Where are you going?”

“Home. It’s not far,” he answered evasively. His lust was under control again, but his heart was full of regret over this woman and all the help he could not offer her. She looked worried. He smiled to lend her some bravado. “I want to tell you something. If it wasn’t for my existing plans, I would take you away and we could have had a great deal of fun together.”

“I would have liked that,” she whispered. She came close again, pressing against his chest as she looked up at him with a shy smile. “What sort of place is home? Since I only have this night to learn everything there is to know about you, tell me about where you grew up.”

Daniel considered the wisdom of that, but then scooped her up in his arms and carried the woman to his bed. If he was talking about home, he was sure to never become too excited.

As they lay there together, fully clothed and shod too, he told her about the estate he’d not visited in years.

He described the grounds, the house, and the district. By the time he told her about his mother and granny awaiting his arrival, Marian was snoring softly.

But he told her about his family anyway, about his father dying so young and his nagging worry that he might not live to see his own son or daughter fully grown, too.

That bothered him late at night, and he drew Marian closer as the candles spluttered and died, throwing them into an intimacy he’d not counted on experiencing with anyone but his future wife.

Holding Marian while he talked worked as he hoped, though. He had not become too excited by sharing his bed with the woman in his arms. But with Marian it was comfortable, being with her, being honest about his fears, so he kept talking long into the night.

Chapter Four

“You’re back at last, my dear boy,” the housekeeper exclaimed, hugging her only son in the middle of the stable yard, uncaring if anyone saw her display of affection or laughed at them.

The entire estate was aware of Mrs. Paul’s excessive fondness for her only son, but if they ever told her about the dangers expected on the last leg of their journey home, she might never release the poor man.

Marian’s fears had been for naught in the end, but that might have been because he’d roused his men before dawn. With his men fully armed, and openly brandishing their weapons, they’d concluded their journey without incident.

He hoped Marian’s journey turned out to be much the same. He’d left her asleep at the inn, but with enough coin piled by the bed to take her far, far away from any pursuit. He would never know what became of her fate, and that had left him anxious all day long.

Daniel watched mother and son together now with detached amusement and perhaps a little envy, too. They were extremely close. Sunday had written to his mama once a week from London, relating his adventures, and received the same sort of news from the countryside in return.

Mrs. Paul held her son’s face between her hands. “You’ve grown, my boy, and you badly need a shave.”

Sunday beamed, loving the parental attention and the scold most likely, too. “I will shave as soon as I can. His lordship was in such a hurry to reach home that we rode out too early to have time for that.”

“It’s pleasing to hear you rushed, although I expected you weeks ago,” Mrs. Paul said, wiping at her cheeks as she glanced over at Daniel, finally remembering he was still standing nearby. “It’s good to have you back home where you belong, too, my lord. If you’ll forgive me, you could do with a shave, too, my lord.”

Daniel rubbed his jaw and smiled indulgently at the rebuke, and the tears that inevitably followed, as she hugged her son again. The housekeeper wept every time he’d taken her boy away and also cried upon his return on every single occasion so far. Daniel had become used to her emotional outbursts over the years and the occasional scold, too. He remembered well the time her boy fell afoul of the local bully, and they both came home with blackened eyes and other bruises. Mrs. Paul had whipped into a fury and given the boy’s parents a piece of her mind. He was a little wistful that he’d never received the same support from his own mama when he’d been bullied.

But they’d be home for a good long while, now that he was getting married, and the housekeeper’s tears would finally be at an end.

“I’ll be off now,” Daniel murmured. “You have the rest of the day off, Sunday.”

“I’d best unpack for you first,” he protested. “And shave you.”

“No, don’t bother. I’m happy to live out of the trunks for one more night. Be with your mama. She’s far from done fussing over you, by the look of it.”

“Thank you, my lord,” Sunday said, hugging his mama. “I admit I have missed her, too.”

“I know you have,” Daniel said, giving the pair a wave and sauntering off toward the manor house by himself.

Hammersley Lodge was a tall, neat, four-story country manor house set in a large, formal garden. The lawn was always neatly clipped, and the garden bed filled with blooms cultivated first in the hothouses. There was never a wild unkept bloom or bush to be found anywhere next to the manor. His chambers looked over the drive and clipped lawns on the left side, with an unobstructed view of fields where cows grazed their heads off. His mother and granny occupied the right side, overlooking the kitchen gardens and orchard where most of the servants spent their long days.