Near midnight, just as she was finally dozing, she was startled by sounds from Nicholas. She smiled, knowing he was again having a bad dream. Still smiling, she went to him and climbed into bed beside him. At once he clasped her in his arms and immediately fell into a peaceful sleep. Dougless snuggled close, her cheek on his furred chest, and contentedly went to sleep. Let what is to be, happen, she thought.
When Nicholas awoke it was daylight, and when he realized Dougless was in his arms, he knew his dreams had come true. She fit his body as though they were carved from one piece of earth. What was the word she used? Telepathy. There was a feeling between them, a deep bond that he’d never come close to feeling with another woman.
Putting his face in her hair, he breathed deeply, and his hands began to caress her. He’d never felt such lust as he felt for her, never even known such lust existed.
“Give me strength,” he prayed, “strength to do what I must. And forgive me,” he whispered.
He hoped he could do what he had to, but first he wanted to taste her, just this once, this one and only time; then never again would he allow himself to touch her.
He kissed her hair, her neck, his tongue on her smooth skin. His hand ran up her arm, then covered her breast. Nicholas’s heart was in his ears.
Waking, Dougless turned in his arms to kiss him—a kiss such as she’d never experienced before. The other half of me, she thought. What I have been missing all my life is this man. He’s the other half of me.
“Lettice,” Nicholas murmured near her ear.
Their legs were entwined, their arms clasping one another. Dougless smiled, her head back as Nicholas placed hot kisses on her neck and throat. “I’ve been called . . . Carrots,” she said, breathless, “for my hair, but never lettuce.”
“Lettice is . . .” He was kissing down her throat, lower and lower. “Lettice is my wife.”
“Mmm,” Dougless murmured as his hand caressed her breast and his lips went lower.
What he’d said hit her suddenly. She pushed away to look at him. “Wife?” she asked.
Nicholas pulled her back to him. “We care naught for her now.”
She pushed away from him again. “You seem to care about her enough to say her name when you’re kissing me.”
“A mere slip,” he said, pulling her toward him.
Dougless shoved at him hard, then got out of bed and straightened her unbuttoned gown. “Why don’t you explain to me about this wife of yours?” she demanded angrily. “And why haven’t I heard of her before? I know you had a child, but you said the mother had died.”
Nicholas sat up in bed, the sheet to his waist. “There was no reason to tell of my wife. Her beauty, her talents, and my love for her are private to me.” He picked up Dougless’s watch off the table. “Perhaps today we will purchase me such as this.”
“Put that down!” Dougless snapped. “This is serious. I think you owe me an explanation.”
“Explain to you?” Nicholas said, getting out of bed, wearing only a pair of tiny briefs. He pulled on his trousers, then turned to her as he fastened them. “Pray, madam, who are you? Are you a duke’s daughter? An earl’s? Even a baron’s? I am the earl of Thornwyck, and you are my servant. You work f
or me. In return, I feed you and clothe you, and perhaps, if you are worth it, I will mayhap give you a small stipend. I have no obligation to tell you of my own life.”
Dougless sat down hard on the bed. “But you never mentioned a wife,” she said softly. “Not once have you referred to her.”
“I would be a poor husband to profane my beloved’s name to my servant.”
“Servant,” Dougless whispered. “Do you love her very much?”
Nicholas snorted. “She is the true reason I must return. I must find the truth, then return to my loving wife’s arms.”
Dougless was having difficulty understanding what she was hearing. Robert yesterday and today finding that Nicholas had a wife—a wife he loved madly—was more than she could handle. “I don’t understand,” she said, burying her face in her hands. “I wished you here. I prayed for you. Why did you come to me if you love someone else?”
“You prayed on my tomb. Perhaps if anyone had done that—man or woman—I would have come forth. Perhaps God knew I would need a servant and you needed work. I do not know. All I do know is that I must return.”
“To your wife?”
“Aye, to my wife.”
She turned to look at him. “And what of this?” she asked, motioning to the bed.
“Madam, you placed yourself in my bed. I am but a man, therefore I am weak.”