Then calmly, he added, “I’m sorry to take my duchess away from you, ladies. I simply cannot get enough of this woman. She has my heart and soul.”

  Briefly, he touched his mouth to hers, knowing it would cause a flurry of gossip.

  Without another word, he led her away. He signaled to his aunt and she touched Hannah’s shoulder and began crossing the ballroom to join them.

  “You have started a new scandal, Anthony,” Laurel said quietly.

  “You were defending me. Rather nobly. It was the least I could do. Lady Chatham is a horrible person. She needed to be put in her place.” He grinned. “Besides, I am glad I married you.” Raising her hand, he kissed it as Aunt Constance and Hannah joined them.

  Anthony escorted the trio to the carriage. Hannah talked endlessly but it didn’t seem to bother Anthony as it had before.

  They arrived at home and he accompanied Laurel to her room.

  “Fifteen minutes and I will join you,” he said, raising her gloved hand and brushing a kiss upon it.

  Monkton undressed him and Anthony pulled on his dressing gown, his heart beating rapidly. He made his way to Laurel’s room. He’d come to a decision.

  Anthony only hoped it was the right one.

  Laurel was seated as Retta brushed her hair. He took the brush and said, “I’ll finish.”

  He started at her image in the mirror and pulled the brush through the thick, dark locks. Over and over, he ran the brush through her hair. She closed her eyes and he drank her in.

  “Don’t stop,” she murmured. “It feels too good.”

  Anthony placed the brush on the table. “There are things that feel even better.” He came to stand so close that his body touched hers. He grasped her shoulders lightly and then ran his palms down her chest, cupping her breasts as he kissed her neck.

  “Mmm. Maybe you’re right.”

  “I’m always right, Duchess. I’m the Duke of Linfield.”

  He stroked and kneaded her breasts, tweaking her nipples, sending shivers through her. He slid his hands lower and untied the knot of her dressing gown, parting it and slipping it from her shoulders. He began fondling her breasts again, this time, slipping his hands inside the night rail’s neckline. The smoothness of her skin felt so right under his callused fingertips. He pinched her nipples slightly and she moaned. He continued rolling them and her hips began to move.

  “I believe you said something about nimble fingers,” he murmured into her ear.

  “Oh, yes,” she sighed.

  Anthony brought Laurel to her feet and turned her, kissing her deeply. He would never tire of the taste of her. He backed her up slowly until they came to the bed and she fell backwards, her legs dangling. Just how he wanted her.

  He knelt, pushing the night rail up to her waist and then parted her thighs. He stroked her core, finding her already wet for him. Fighting the urge to unbutton his fall and plunge into her, he kept petting her. She began whimpering. He inserted a finger and teased her bud. It didn’t take long before she writhed on the bed. Her release came quickly.

  He allowed her to calm and then began stroking her again. Those little sounds in the back of her throat thrilled him. He moved between her legs, holding her thighs in place and touched his tongue to her.

  “Anthony!”

  He looked up. Laurel had raised up on her elbows, her eyes wide.

  “My fingers aren’t the only nimble thing I possess.”

  With that, he touched his mouth to her and began kissing and nibbling at her sex. He felt how stiff she was. Slowly, though, she began to relax. Her hips began moving. He plunged his tongue into her and she cried out. Using his mouth, teeth, and tongue, Anthony brought her to a shattering climax. He kissed his way back up to her mouth and found tears on her cheeks.

  Worry filled him. “Are you all right?”

  “I . . . am. That was . . .” Her voice trailed off as she panted. After a few breaths, she said, “Wicked. That was very, very wicked, Anthony.” Grinning, she added, “And incredibly nimble.”

  “I’m glad you thought so.”

  He couldn’t wait any longer. While she lay almost paralyzed, he doffed his clothes and swung her legs onto the bed.

  “I’m going to love you, Laurel,” he said. “As best I can.”

  He meant the words in two ways. In a physical sense, his body joining with hers.

  And emotionally. Letting go and truly giving himself to her.

  Anthony made love to Laurel with a renewed sense of urgency. They climaxed together and he fell atop her, burying his face in her abundant hair. She stroked his back, pressing kisses against his throat. He rolled to his side, keeping his arms around her.

  “We must talk,” he said quietly.

  She smiled lazily. “Oh, I think your body did all the talking necessary, Duke.”

  He brought his hand to her face and smoothed her hair from it.

  “My father gave me away when I was eight years old.”

  Horror filled her face. “Anthony?”

  Her palm went to his cheek, caressing it. She didn’t ask him anything, for which he was grateful. Gradually, words spilled from him.

  “I suppose I was a difficult child. I constantly got into trouble. My mother died giving birth to me. I know Theodore blamed me for her death and I think my father did, as well. Theodore bulled me unmercifully. The duke turned a blind eye to it. He favored his heir and had no use for me.”

  He smoothed her hair again. “I fought a lot with other boys. I never received any attention at home. Everything was always about Theodore since he was the heir to the dukedom. It’s . . . as if I never existed. I was ignored. The longer it went on, the more the anger built within me. Then I used my fists because how could I use words? How could I tell other boys while they talked about their families—and I had none?”

  She placed her head against his chest, stroking it lightly. He guessed she knew how hard this was for him and it might be easier for him to speak without seeing the pity in her eyes.

  “I used my fists all the time. I didn’t have any friends. I was asked to leave two schools because of my violent behavior. At the third school, Ridingham Academy, I was goaded by a boy who said some awful things to me and then blackened my eye. I went berserk, attacking him with all the rage within me. It took two grown men to pull me off him. The duke came and was informed that I could no longer attend school there.

  “He told me he had no use for me. That his time would be spent grooming Theodore into the perfect son and heir. He dropped me at Aunt Constance’s that day. I never saw him again.”

  Warm tears covered his chest. Laurel lifted her head, her eyes swimming with them.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “He abandoned me. Never wrote to me once. The hate I had for him grew and grew until rage was the only emotion I knew. I lied to Aunt Constance as I got older and told her I was taking my holidays with friends when I had none and merely stayed at school. I cut myself off from anything that resembled family.” He sighed. “On my eighteenth birthday, a solicitor came to see him. He notified me of a commission being purchased for me by the Duke of Linfield. I went into the military and never looked back.”

  “Anthony.” Laurel kissed his cheek softly. “There are no words I can share that can comfort you.” She bit her lip. “I have insisted you spend time with my family. I’m sorry. I never knew how truly awful your childhood was.”

  “It made me strong. Stronger than all the other men around me, especially officers who came from families who’d coddled them. I displayed no emotion to others. I bottled up the anger which surged through my blood and directed it at the enemy. I had a clear mind and was a brilliant strategist. Wellington saw that in me. He listened to me, more often than not. I was fearless on the battlefield because I didn’t care if I lived or died—because I had no one to come home to.”

  She lay her cheek against his for a long while and then raised her head and looked him in the eye.

  “You have me now. I have enough love in my heart to take care of you. I cannot change your past but I can love you now and forever.”

  He stilled. “You love me?”

  “I do,” she admitted. “I know I wasn’t supposed to. Because of my own childhood and circumstances, I never believed in love. When you were forced to wed me, my head told me it was nothing more than a business arrangement.” She smiled. “But somehow you slipped into my heart, Anthony. Yes, I love you. I don’t expect you to love me but it doesn’t matter. I have so much love for you that I hope I can heal your heart.”

  “I love you, Laurel.”

  She shook her head. “No, don’t feel you have to echo my words. You desire me. I understand that. Passion doesn’t equal love. It doesn’t matter. You are a good man, Anthony Godwin. You have been a good husband and will make for an excellent father.”

  “I haven’t always been a good husband.”

  She smiled wryly. “Well, I haven’t been an ideal wife.”

  He cradled her face. “I am speaking from my heart, Laurel. That black, empty hole that has been there for so long. The one that I thought rendered me dead inside. It’s not gone at all. You brought me back to life, sweetheart. I fought hard to push you away and hang on to my anger. Whenever I feared you grew too close to me, I distanced myself from you. I didn’t think I was good enough for you. I still feel like a fake. A pretender. I was never meant to be a duke.”

  “I feel the same. I’m a poor girl from humble means, not some grand duchess. I’ve never felt good enough to be your wife.”

  He kissed the tip of her nose. “Oh, we are a pair. We are the Duke and Duchess of Linfield, though. Nothing is going to change that. We might as well enjoy it.”

  “Is that why you don’t wish me to call you Linfield? Because you think of your father when you hear the name?”

  He nodded. “Every day I thought of him and my hatred grew. Suddenly, after so many years of my heart and soul being twisted, I was Linfield.”

  “It’s true. You are Linfield now but you can be the Linfield you want to be. When others speak of Linfield in society, it will be the kind, generous, wonderful, loving man that you are.”

  “How did I ever deserve you, my love?” he asked, overcome with emotion.

  Laurel smiled. “You comforted a sad young woman with a kiss, never knowing the price you would pay.”

  “I would pay it ten thousand times over. I love you, Laurel. More than I ever imagined. The emptiness within me has filled with love and light—all because of you.”

  Anthony made love to his wife tenderly, savoring her. When he finished, he rolled her on her side and nestled her against him, his arms keeping her close.

  “Go to sleep, Duchess,” he said softly. “When you wake up, I will be here. I will always be here for you.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Laurel woke.

  Anthony was still here . . .

  She hadn’t dreamed last night. He’d had stayed. All night. He’d told her he loved her. Joy filled her. She never knew such happiness could be possible.

  At least she understood him better now. Her childhood may have been difficult but she’d always had her mother’s unconditional love. Hudson’s, too. Poor Anthony had no one. Even when Aunt Constance had taken him in, he hadn’t allowed her to get close to him. He’d held himself apart, thinking he wasn’t good enough because his bastard of a father had tossed him aside like rubbish.

  Still, he had grown into a good man.

  Her man.

  He began to stir, his arm tightening about her possessively. His chest pressed into her back. She could feel his manhood beginning to stir as his lips caressed her neck. His hand stroked her belly and went lower. Lower.

  “Oh,” she murmured.

  Her husband made love to her very thoroughly. When he finished, he gathered her against him, his hand absently stroking her back.

  “This is a very nice way to start our day,” she said.

  “Perhaps the Duke and Duchess of Everton have the right idea after all.”

  Laurel remembered she had told him Jeremy and Catherine slept together in one chamber.

  “Would you like to follow their pattern?” he asked. “Turn your bedchamber in a dressing room and storage for your gowns? Then you could share my bed every night.” He kissed her. “That would make me happy. Very, very happy.”

  “I know it is a wife’s job to make her husband happy,” Laurel teased. “How can I say no?”

  He kissed her again. “You can’t.”

  “I would like to redecorate some. It’s very dark and gloomy. Don’t worry. I won’t make it all full of feminine frills. It will still retain a manly look.”

  “I don’t care. I won’t be looking at the room. I’ll only have eyes for the woman I love.”

  They kissed again for long minutes and Laurel thought marriage couldn’t get any better than this. Her stomach gurgled noisily and his joined in. They laughed and rose.

  “We definitely need some breakfast.”

  She played valet to him and helped him dress and he returned the favor. They went to the breakfast room, their fingers entwined, and she was surprised to see Hannah there. Usually, the girl slept until noon and like Aunt Constance, had a tray in her room for her first meal of the day.

  Immediately, Laurel saw Hannah noticed them holding hands because a smile spread across her face.

  Anthony seated Laurel and said, “You’re up awfully early. Thinking about Brixley?”

  “Yes,” Hannah admitted. “I couldn’t sleep any longer. I don’t know how I’ll pass all the hours until teatime.”

  “Why don’t you accompany me to the orphanage?” Laurel suggested. “Catherine and I are going this morning at eleven o’clock. I wanted her to see some of the changes we’ve made.”

  “You don’t think she’d mind?”

  “Not at all. I’d like you to see it.” She looked to her husband. “You, too, Anthony.”

  “I can’t today, love. Let me know the next time you’re going, though. I’ll be happy to see the place with you.”

  They finished breakfast and Anthony excused himself. He bent and kissed her cheek and took a few steps away. Then he returned and kissed her on the mouth, a lovely, sweet kiss.

  “I will see you both at tea with this vexing viscount.”

  As he left the room, Hannah called out, “Brixley is not vexing at all!”

  Laurel laughed. “He doesn’t think that. He’s teasing you.”

  “I know,” Hannah said with wonder. “I quite like this new Anthony. You were holding hands when you came in, Laurel. And he came back and kissed you. Really kissed you. Does he love you?”

  “Yes,” she said with confidence. “I also love him. It’s the most wonderful, marvelous, amazing feeling in the world.”

  “I wonder if Brixley might make me that happy,” Hannah mused.

  “Give him a chance,” Laurel said. “If he doesn’t, there are many more bachelors available.”

  They met downstairs at the appointed time and climbed into the carriage that Anthony had thoughtfully left behind for their use. When they arrived at the Everton townhome, Barton admitted them.

  “It’s wonderful to see you, Your Grace. Lady Hannah. I’m afraid Her Grace will not be available today for your trip to see the orphans. Lady Delia has come down with a fever.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Laurel said. “May we go up to the nursery and see her?”

  “She is in Her Grace’s sitting room.”

  “Come along, Hannah,” she said.

  They went upstairs and found Catherine rocking her daughter. The usually rambunctious Delia was curled up in her mother’s arms, sucking on her thumb. Her face was flushed.

  “We heard Delia is unwell and just wanted to pop up and see how she is.”

  Catherine kissed her daughter’s forehead. “It’s only a slight fever. It’s made her grumpy and sluggish. I thought it best to keep her out of the nursery so the others wouldn’t be struck with fever, too. I’m sorry I can’t go with you to the orphanage today.”

  “It’s quite all right. Hannah will accompany me.” Laurel bent and kissed her niece’s cheek. “I hope you feel better soon.”

  She and Hannah returned downstairs and informed the driver of the address. The footman assisted them into the carriage and, before long, they’d arrived. Laurel had told Hannah the orphanage was located in her former neighborhood. She could tell by the look on her friend’s face how surprised Hannah was as she took in the surroundings.

  “You were very poor, weren’t you?”

  “We were. But Mama loved Hudson and me so very much.”

  Seeing her sister-in-law’s thoughtful expression, Laurel decided to describe her childhood in greater detail, hoping to educate Hannah and help her understand more why this work was so important.

  “I only owned two gowns when I came to the St. Clairs a few months ago, Hannah. Both threadbare. And I only had two because I worked more than one job. When I was younger, I possessed only one. There was no money for more than that. I didn’t even own a pair of shoes until I was almost fifteen.”

  Hannah gasped. “Oh, Laurel, how awful. I’ve already worn one dress to breakfast and changed into another to come here. I’ll wear a third for tea once we arrive home and then don my fourth for tonight’s social event. I had no idea how hard your childhood must have been.”

  “It was quite difficult. Food was hard to come by because our rent claimed so much of what Mama, Hudson, and I earned. If we each had one meal a day, it was considered a luxury. Most days, we took turns eating and even then, there was little of it to be had. I’ve gone to bed hungry more often than not. At least I had a roof over my head and family who loved me. Many others in this neighborhood are not so fortunate.

  “That’s why supporting this orphanage is something I care so much about. I know of children who’ve lived on the streets all their lives. Eating from mounds of garbage. Sleeping huddled against the walls of an alleyway as rats bit them. Selling their bodies to strangers, their innocence bought for a few shillings.”

  Hannah’s eyes welled with tears. “I have never heard of such things, Laurel. I didn’t see anything like you speak of in the country. Even coming to London, I’ve never been exposed to such a wretched side of life.”