The Disappearing Duchess. Anne Herries

is your daughter.’

      ‘For the moment I cannot acknowledge her. My husband would not allow it.’

      Nanny looked at her sadly. ‘You should tell your husband the truth, Lucinda. He couldn’t let you acknowledge her, of course, but if he is a good man he will allow you to see her—and he’ll find a decent place for us to live.’

      ‘I hope in time to confide in him, but for now it must be our secret.’

      ‘Very well.’

      Nanny had agreed reluctantly. Lucinda knew she would care for the child as if she were her own, but she did not approve.

      Alice might not approve, either—but for the moment Lucinda had no choice.

      Perhaps after Justin’s return, if they became friends again, she could tell him. He might not let her have the child with her, but he might allow her to have Angela near her and visit sometimes.

      Retiring to her bed, Lucinda lay restless, her mind in turmoil. If Justin discovered that she had lied to him again, he would hate her.

      Justin lay sleepless. He had brought the decanter of brandy to his room, hoping that a glass or two of his favourite tipple would dull the edge of his need, but at the moment it did not seem to have worked. The desire to touch and kiss his wife was burning through him, making him groan. Had he been less proud, more sure of his own feelings and hers, he would have gone to her, taken her in his arms and begged her to forgive him. Being close to her that evening had made him aware just how lovely she was—and how much he burned to make her his wife in truth. He was a fool to let himself be hurt. Why not simply make this quarrel up with her and forget everything in her arms—bury himself in her perfumed flesh?

      No, that was foolish. His father would have called him a weakling for considering such an action. Justin had been strictly reared to understand the position he held as head of one of the leading families in England. Indeed, the first duke was rumoured to be one of Charles I’s by-blows, borne of a titled lady who had kept her secret even from the king until later in life when she made a request for her son and was granted the title on his behalf. His father’s words ran through his mind.

      ‘Remember what you owe yourself and the family, Justin. Feeling must always be denied for, if once set free, it will ruin any man. You are of noble blood and must never forget your duty. Our family has upheld the true virtues of honour and decency for centuries. Do not be the one to break that slender thread.’

      His father would say it was his duty to annul the marriage at once, to send Lucinda away in disgrace and marry a girl of impeccable reputation.

      No, he could not do that. Justin was angry and hurt, but beneath the pain and the rage he knew that he still wanted his beautiful wife. He still cared what became of her. To abandon her to the gossips would be cruel and senseless. Deep within him the need to protect her from hurt had asserted itself. He must not let what had happened ruin both their lives.

      Somehow he must come to terms with the situation and the only way to do that was to put a little distance between them for a while. If he stayed here, he would not be able to keep from her bed.