Chapter 12
Marianne sighed as she went through the house looking for Drew. Thinking back over the previous day and much relieved that Andrea’s party had gone so well, she had had no fears about the children but had worried how Drew and Robert would rub together.
After all, she didn’t feel she could instantaneously cut Robert from her life just because her husband had reappeared. Drew seemed to understand.
The man, too perfect by half, must have a flaw or two. What were they? Where were they?
Her extended search did not turn up Drew in his bedchamber or the drawing room. Even the library showed no indication of his presence.
Yesterday, after having finished tea, her parents and Robert had politely made their excuses and left. Guiltily glad of their early departure, she had been as exhausted as Andrea. Lord only knew how Drew had kept going all afternoon. She had taken a nap of her own and stayed in for the evening, even dining in her room, with no idea what Drew had done or even if he had gone out.
But where was he now?
She came across the butler in the kitchen. “Blevins, have you seen his lordship? I’ve searched the entire house and found neither hide nor hair of him. Has he gone out for the afternoon?” Has he been kidnapped once again? she thought to herself. No, that would be impossible. Not only intimidatingly large, he probably knew many people at the docks after sailing the seas so long.
Maybe he’d had enough of family and volunteered for travel this time. Maybe returning and finding a daughter as well as a completely different type of wife pushed him over the brink.
The butler stopped polishing a silver candlestick. “Why, no, my lady. I saw him head out to the back gardens after Lady Andrea went down for her nap. I believe he is still out there. Shall I fetch him for you?”
“No, no. I’ll go find him. You don’t need to bother.”
As Blevins returned to his polishing, Marianne made her way through the outside door to head for the gardens. The sun, bright and unseasonably warm on this spring day, had nurtured the earliest of the bulbs so the newly blooming daffodils contrasted richly with the newly green grass. The brilliant yellow flowers flaunted their happy faces in the warm breeze that floated by. She inhaled deeply, thankful no coal fires were required on such a fine day, so that little soot fouled the air.
Looking around, she saw Drew sitting on the grass leaning against the same old oak he had tied the swing on only yesterday. His knees bent and his legs crossed in front of him, his eyes were closed and a book lay next to him. He must have tired of reading and decided to take a nap himself.
Relieved, she had second thoughts about interrupting him, but there was no help for it. She would have to wake him. They needed to discuss finances before things got too far out of hand. Did he have a spendthrift streak like his father had? Could this be one of the flaws she needed to worry about?
Standing in front of him, looking down, she had to admire his strong features and good looks, his skin bronzed from the sun, his hair longer than fashionable but sun-kissed and rich with auburn and blond streaks. He had become quite the handsome man during his sojourns, even if they were unplanned and unwanted.
She wanted to reach out and touch him, stroke his cheek, his hair.
Instead, she knelt in front of him, gathering her courage to rouse him and discuss finances, highly agitated about the prospect of having their financial future squandered after all her hard work. She studied his face.
His eyelids fluttered, then slowly raised to leave her gazing directly into his fathomless midnight blue eyes.
Her breath caught in her throat. Her heart skipped a beat. She seemed to be both cold and hot at the same moment. She lost thought as to what she wanted to say. Her body swayed toward his.
“Hello,” he said simply, softly.
She swallowed hard and tried to regain her wits. How did he do this to her with no effort whatsoever?
“Hello, my lord.”
“Andrew, Drew. Please, not so formal, especially when we are alone.”
“Drew, I’m sorry to wake you but we need to talk.”
“I’m not sleeping, Marianne. I’m meditating.” He reached out a hand to assist her to the ground.
She placed her small hand in his large, calloused, warm and gentle one. “Meditating? What is that?”
“A way of calming the mind and focusing one’s thoughts. A technique I learned in China.”
“Well, that’s very nice, my lord. Drew. But we need to talk. I’m sorry to be so crude but we need to discuss finances.” Marianne finally relented and fully settled onto one hip on the grass. She could only hope she would not stain the fine silk of her gown.
Drew released her hand as she came to rest.
“What is there to discuss?” Drew pulled a few blades of grass and rolled them between thumb and forefinger, studying them as if they contained a hidden world of information.
“The pony, my lord. Drew. I’m not sure we can afford it, though it was very thoughtful of you to buy it for Andrea’s natal day. And, I know she loves it. But, it’s not only the pony. It’s the extra space it will take. The care. The food. It is an added expense, Drew. I just am not sure we can fit it into our budget. I’ve not had the rest of your father’s properties for long and they are not profitable yet. And, I had his debts to discharge. We are laying out much more than we are bringing in at the moment. We still must be very cautious with our spending.” She finally took a breath and looked away, realizing she had been running on and on and he had been patiently listening.
Drew reached out and once again took her hand in his.
She felt the heat go up her arm and spread through her body. She schooled her features and tried not to react to the intensity of the feelings cascading over her.
“Marianne, there is no need to worry . . .”
“But there is, my lord. Drew. We’re not so rich as yet. I’ve been very careful but your father did not change his ways all these years and when he died . . . Well, not to speak poorly about the dead but he left debts and they were yours, ours, to pay. We were responsible for them.”
He wove his fingers between hers, then drew them to his lips. Like a butterfly alighting on a flower petal, he brushed his lips over the back of her hand.
Marianne caught a deep breath. Her heart stuttered yet again.
“Marianne, there is no need to worry. Regardless of the carelessness of my father, we have the money. I brought back a fortune with me, a very generous fortune at that.”
“But how? You were kidnapped and only a sailor.” She decided not to pull her hand from his grasp. Despite his calloused palm she could feel the heat and steadiness emanating from him. It seemed to ground her, calm her.
“I explained to your father last week. I meant to do so with you as well but we just hadn’t taken the time or made the opportunity. I have a gift with languages, you see. I speak many fluently from my youth: Spanish, French, Italian, Portuguese, and Russian. I seem to pick up new tongues with no effort whatsoever, even those of the islands of the Pacific and the Orient. That is a valuable talent on a sailing ship. My captains used me to make better trades and then gave me bonuses for my efforts, better quarters on board ship, fewer manual chores as well, since I spent most of my time translating papers in other tongues. I took the funds I earned and invested them. Some of the investments were risky, but unlike my father, I was in the thick of the action so I had information that could guide me as to where and when to place my money. And I placed it well. I am far wealthier than my father ever hoped to be. I don’t need your dowry any more, Marianne. It’s yours to dispose of however you wish and I thank you for how you tended my properties all these years.”
Drew kissed her hand again, then released it.
Slowly his words gained ground in her mind. He didn’t need her dowry? Did that mean he didn’t need her? What did that bode for their marriage? Their daughter? Their future? Was she free? Free to be with Robert? How could she be free without some type of divorce? That way guaranteed scandal. There was no easy way. She would have no control. Drew would have to claim cuckolding. Robert would have to be named as her lover. Her reputation and Robert’s would be ruined. They would be outcasts from society, any society. Did she want Robert so much? Did he draw her the way Drew did? Did he make her feel, with just a touch of his hand, the way Drew did?
Protected. Cherished. Desired.
“Marianne.” Drew fractured her thoughts. “You look worried and confused. There is no need to be. It will all work out for the best. It always does.” He took her hand yet again and tugged gently. He unbent his knees and spread his legs wide. “Come sit with me and rest. We will figure it out. We needn’t hurry.” As she moved toward him, he turned her around to sit in front of him, between his legs. “Relax. Lean back against me.”
Marianne knew not what else to do, so she leaned her back against the solid wall of his chest, felt the heat of his body radiate through her like the warmth of the sun on a beautiful summer day, inhaled the spicy, masculine scent of him. His arms came around her, then he placed a hand, palm up, on each of her thighs.
“Place your hands, palms down, in mine, Marianne. Lean back, close your eyes, take a deep breath and relax.”
His voice rumbled deep and warm in her ear. She did what he asked. His chest supported her back. His palms remained open as she laid her palms against his. She took a deep breath, glad she had planned a home day and had skipped the corset and lacings. Then she took another. Then another.
She could feel the rise and fall of his breathing behind her.
She let go and felt herself floating . . . floating . . . floating . . .
“Mama. Papa. You sleeping? Wake up!”
Marianne raised her eyelids to see the happy face of her daughter approaching. Blue eyes bright, smile wide, the child scampered toward them, then soft, little hands patted Marianne’s cheeks.
“Awake, Mama. Awake. You, too, Papa. Wake up!”
Marianne took in a deep breath. How long had they been sitting there? She looked up toward the sky. A half hour? An hour? Did it matter?
She made to move.
“Take it easy, Marianne,” came the deep voice behind her. “Rise slowly or you may feel a little light-headed. You rested deeply.”
She moved to her knees and felt Drew stand up next to her. She looked up into his face, saw his hand stretched out to help her, his eyes warm and knowing but still so gentle and kind.
Who was this mysterious man she had married so long ago?
“Papa, Papa.” Andrea clung to his leg but he remained steady as a rock as he held his hand out to her.
“Let me help you up. Take my hand.”
How could she resist? What had he done to her, with her?
She placed her hand in his and rose to her feet. As he had warned, she felt a slight dizziness but it left as quickly as it came. Then she felt . . . rested. She felt as if she had gotten out of bed after a full night’s deep sleep.
How had he done that?
Drew looked down at her. “Are you all right? You look better. Your color is back. You no longer look so tense.”
“Mama, Papa. Play.” Now Andrea’s free hand tugged on Marianne’s skirt while clinging to her father’s leg.
“Fine, my lord. Drew. I’m fine. I feel fully rested.” She bent to take Andrea’s hand but the child raised both hands to her father.
“Uppy. Uppy, Papa!”
“I think we need to be, as someone wants us to play.” Drew lifted the toddler up and tossed her in the air.
“Papa! Papa! Again! Again!”
“That child is going to think she’s a bird if you keep tossing her into the sky that way.”
“Never.” Drew placed the little girl’s feet back on the ground. “I’ll always put both of her feet back on terra firma. It’s such a joy though to have her, to play with her. I’m so glad you’re not one of those parents who feels she must send the children away while they are so small. My father did that and my parents were nearly complete strangers to me by the time I returned home.”
“My parents raised me, Drew. I would want no one else to raise my own children.” Marianne bent down to her daughter. “How about hide-and-go-seek? Papa can count and you and I will go hide.”
“Yes, yes. Papa count.”
Marianne smiled up at him just before he turned back to the tree to count. Then she grabbed Andrea’s hand and they ran to hide from Papa.