Page 58 of Taming of the Rake
Horror overwhelmed her as she realized he had blamed himself for her shortcomings. Had he stayed away for so long thinking himself completely at fault?
“No, please, I cannot allow you to take the blame,” she argued. “It was me, I … I didn’t understand—”
He held one hand up to silence her, then grinned. “It would seem we both share some of the blame. For my part, I did not explain myself well enough and that led to you assuming the worst. And why shouldn’t you have? Experience has taught you not to trust any man who isn’t Powell.”
“But I do trust you. You’ve proven yourself to me time and again, and I am so very sorry for making you think that I did not.”
“I will forgive you, but only if you come into this room and remain silent until I finish talking.”
Curiosity reared its head as he laid his hand on the knob, excitement brightening his eyes as he watched her. Whatever was behind this door must be important.
“Very well.”
Taking a deep breath, he let it out while pushing the door open. Regina squinted as he took her hand to lead her inside, parted curtains letting in a great deal of natural light. This time of day the sun seemed to shine directly into the space, allowing her the perfect view. What she saw took her breath away. One hand held over her open mouth, Regina gazed about, observing it all in stunned silence.
David backed away from her and held his arms out to encompass the space. “I was going to send for you when it was ready. I wanted this to be absolutely perfect, but you’re here now and I will admit to being a little impatient. That smell is a combination of paint and furniture polish … it will go away once I open the windows for a few hours.”
What he had been so excited to show her turned out to be a suite encompassing a nursery. They stood in a day room just now, where white cloths draped various pieces of furniture, which David started removing under her watchful eyes. A couch, love seat, and collection of child-size chairs appeared, all appearing brand new. They were upholstered in a cheery yellow damask printed with tiny blue flowers—a perfect match for the striped wallpaper adorning the walls over freshly-painted white wainscoting. Silver sconces gleamed as if freshly polished, and pale blue drapes decorated the windows. One wall was lined with chests and bookshelves, and collections of toys caught her attention in this corner and that.
A hearth stood along the far wall, with an ancient-looking rocking-chair placed beside it.
“My mother sat in that chair to rock me to sleep,” he said when he noticed her staring at it. “I gave it a polish, but left it entirely as I found it. It’s a Graham family heirloom. Oh, and look!”
He dashed to one of the open doors, which Regina saw led into a sleeping chamber. Within, she found a row of three tiny beds, as well as an infant’s cradle near a window seat, which had been dressed with a collection of hand-embroidered pillows. David pointed to the inside of the doorframe, upon which were scratched children’s growth measurements.
“Here I am at eight,” he said with a little laugh. “I couldn’t have been considered tall until I was about twelve. See how much I grew that year? Here are the twins at five, and at eight, and at ten. They have always been exactly the same height. Oh, and see here?”
He crossed to another set of doors on opposite walls, opening both to show her that they led into separate rooms. One was a nurse’s chamber, and the other was a bright and airy room roughly the size of her chamber at home. A room decorated in shades of magenta and rose, fit for the lady of the house.
When she turned back to David, her eyes were filled with unshed tears, her chest tight with the overwhelming emotion welling up in her.
He smiled and cupped her face, his thumbs swiping at the tears that escaped when she blinked. “I brought most of the fabric and newer decor from London, and have been working on this in my every spare hour. My home isn’t perfect, Regina, and neither is my life. I still have a great deal of work to do before things are as they should be, but I needed you to see for yourself what I’m willing to do for the comfort and care of our child … but also of you. You see, the baby was part of a contract, and I cannot lay any claim to him unless you let me. And I do hope you will let me, because I already love him … or her, I don’t care which it turns out to be. I only know that this baby will be the best parts of you and I combined, and that will make it the most perfect thing God ever created.”
A small sob escaped her throat. “David …”
“Now, now, you’re supposed to let me finish talking. You are supposed to let me tell you that I love you. Not your money, or the idea of you bearing my child … but you, Regina Hurst. I think I’ve loved you for far longer than I realized. You have made what might have been the worst time in my life bearable. I miss you when we aren’t together, and my world seems better, brighter, and more beautiful with you in it. So, you see, I can no longer settle for the occasional night in your bed, or illicit contracts with inevitable endings. I never want to sleep another night without you beside me. I don’t want to wake another morning without your face being the first thing I see when I open my eyes. I understand that there is still so much for us to learn about each other, and I know you have no reason to put your life into the hands of another man. But if you could trust me with your heart, with the child inside you, and with your future, I can promise you will not regret it.”
She was a weeping mess by the time he finished, smiling and sobbing and trying her best to mop at the tears on her face. Taking her hands, David guided her back into the day room, easing her down onto the sofa and sitting down beside her.
“There now,” he murmured, using the cuff of his shirt to dab at her face. “I didn’t mean to overwhelm you. I meant for this to be a good surprise.”
She smiled through her tears and took hold of his hands. “It’s a wonderful surprise … the most beautiful thing anyone has ever given me.”
He sighed, relief making his shoulders sag and his brow smooth over. “I’m so glad you like it. It isn’t finished, though. I still have to—”
“David, it’s perfect, every bit of it. Now that you’re finished, I have some things I must tell you. I came here thinking to take you by surprise, but you have managed to outdo me. I can only hope my words will suffice.”
David draped an arm along the back of the couch, his fingertips stroking the nape of her neck as she began.
“My father urged me into the marriage with Randolph because he was wealthy. We were a genteel family and my father owned a bit of land, but it was nothing compared to what your family owns, or what I have inherited. Father wanted higher social standing, and a relative he could approach with his hand outstretched, so of course Randolph seemed like the perfect choice. None of that mattered to me, though. I thought I loved him and that he loved me. My delusion continued for the first few years of our marriage, and my own naiveté was partly to blame. I kept telling myself that it was my fault I couldn’t enjoy his attentions in bed, or that he always seemed annoyed with me. The first time I denied him use of my body, he slapped me. I bit my tongue, and it bled for hours after. As I wept, I told myself I was to blame. My father told me it would be my husband’s job to discipline me if he saw fit. If I was a good wife, I would have nothing to worry about.”
David’s hand tightened at the back of her neck, and he went deathly still. He remained silent, but Regina could see how difficult it was for him to control his reaction to what he’d just heard. She gave him a moment to recover and hoped he would be able to stomach the rest. Only Powell knew the entire truth, and now so would David.
“The first time he beat me with his fists, I packed a valise and fled back to my family. My brother was still a bachelor living at home. I thought he, at least, would defend me. I thought my mother would insist my father allow me to stay. Randolph hadn’t just hit me with his open palm that one time. Over time, his flares of temper had gotten progressively worse. He had gone from occasionally slapping my face, to yanking me about by my hair and hurling me across the room. Once, my face smashed into a door, and it bruised my cheek and jaw. Randolph fussed over me and apologized, but he blamed me for upsetting him. The door had hurt me, not him, and I ought to mind my tongue if I did not want it to happen again. But this time … he punched me and punched me—in my face, my belly, my shoulders, my back. I was in such pain. While I lay abed weeping, my mother asked me what I had done to force Randolph’s hand. You see, it was obvious to her he’d had just cause for beating me.”
“Fucking hell,” David spat, lowering his head and drawing in a few deep, rasping breaths. “Regina … surely you don’t believe that.”
“Not anymore, but I did then. When Randolph came to fetch me back home, I had convinced myself I could be a better wife to him. I would make him happy, and he wouldn’t beat me again. Of course, I’m certain you realize it did not happen the way I’d hoped.”
