Still, he didn't reach for her.

Four tiny b.u.t.tons closed up the front of her high-waisted gown. She swiftly unb.u.t.toned them, lifted one of his big hands and slid it inside her chemise to cup a breast. Her nipple hardened and she heard Cord groan.

"Victoria, this isn't going to change-"

She silenced him with a kiss, even more frightened than before. She took his hand and led him toward the bed, urged him to sit down on the edge. He seemed so weary, too exhausted to protest when she knelt and removed his shoes, then began to work the b.u.t.tons at the front of his breeches. His shaft sprang free, thick and swollen, more eager for her than he seemed to be. In minutes, she had stripped him of his clothes and removed her own.

Still, he didn't reach for her.

Dear G.o.d, he had always been so pa.s.sionate, so fierce in his lovemaking. Something was terribly, terribly wrong. She kissed him and kissed him, hoping he could feel her love for him, praying she could somehow heal the pain she had caused him.

She nearly wept when she felt his hands on her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, giving in to his desire for her at last. His mouth followed his hands and he began to suckle her there, filling her with heat and need and an overwhelming love for him.

Tory arched her back, giving him better access. When he made no further move to take her, she blinked against the tears that burned her eyes, urged him back on the bed and followed him down, kissing him and kissing him, determined to show him how much she loved him.

Tory gasped as his big hands wrapped around her waist and he lifted her and settled her astride him. His eyes found hers and the pain in them nearly tore her apart.

"I'm so sorry," she said. "So sorry."

He whispered her name and the sound, filled with such sadness, was more alarming than anything that had gone before. Reaching up, she pulled the pins from her hair, let it rumble down around her bare shoulders. Cord lifted a hand and ran his fingers through it, spreading it around her.

"I always loved your hair," he said, and she thought she heard a catch in his voice.

Lifting her again, he eased himself inside her, lowering her slowly, until he filled her completely. He was joined with her, part of her, and no matter what happened, she knew he always would be. Her hair swung forward, enveloping them in a silky coc.o.o.n as she bent her head and kissed him. She loved him. She wanted to give him the kind of pleasure he had always given to her.

She drew herself up, then slowly sank back down, trying to find the rhythm, determined to please him. She could feel the muscles in his body tighten, feel the strength of him each time she moved.

Her own pleasure built. Heat and need rushed through her, mixed with her desire and her fear of losing him. Cord gripped her hips, began to thrust deeply inside her, and pleasure washed through her, quaked through her limbs. Love for him swelled in her heart. Combined with his powerful thrusts, it sent her over the edge.

Seconds later, Cord followed her to release. Limp and sated, she sank down on his chest, praying that at last he would forgive her.

For a moment, she must have fallen asleep. When she awakened, Cord stood next to the bed, almost fully dressed. He fastened the b.u.t.tons on his cuffs and dragged his jacket on over his waistcoat.

"That wasn't necessary, Victoria," he said coolly, his maddening calm back in place. "But I'll admit it made for a pleasant parting interlude."

The fear returned, so strong it threatened to choke her. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about ending this sham of a marriage. The paperwork to begin annulment proceedings is already under way. If all goes well, in a few short months, both of us will be free."

"You're...you're going to set aside our marriage?"

"You should be pleased, sweeting. Once you gain your freedom, you can have your Mr. Fox."

She swallowed, tried to make her mind work, struggled against the hot burn of tears. "I don't want Julian. I never have. I told you, we are only just friends."

Cord straightened his jacket and shot his cuffs. "I wish you the best, my dear, I truly do." Turning away from her, he started for the door.

"Cord, wait!" Tory dragged the sheet around her and raced after him, frantically gripped his arm to stop him before he escaped. "Please don't do this. I know I shouldn't have lied to you. I should have trusted you with the truth. I...I love you, Cord."

His golden eyes turned to flint. "Odd that you never thought to say so before. Perhaps being a countess holds more appeal than I thought."

"I don't care about your t.i.tle! I never did!"

A corner of his mouth edged up. "Lucky for Mr. Fox." And then he closed the door.

Tory collapsed on the floor in front of the door in a tangle of bedsheets and chestnut hair. Great sobs tore from her throat and shook her body. She cried for hours, cried until she had no more tears. In the room next door, she could hear her husband moving around, speaking to his valet, then the closing of the door. He was leaving her, setting aside their marriage.

He could do it. He was an earl and a powerful man.

And why shouldn't he? She had lied to him from the moment she had met him. Lied to him time and time again. The years she had spent with her stepfather had made her wary of other people and particularly of men.

But she had come to trust her husband. And she loved him more than life itself. She had wanted to make him jealous, wanted to make him love her in return. Now he believed she had betrayed him with Julian Fox.

She had to prove her innocence, had to find a way to convince him.

She would ask Julian to help her, to explain to Cord that nothing had happened. Surely Cord would believe him. But Julian had left London to visit an ailing relative in York. She had no idea when he might return, and even if he did, she wasn't sure what would happen should the two men come face-to-face.

Thoughts swirled like flotsam round and round inside her head. She had to think clearly, had to figure out which path to take. She was madly in love with her husband and she couldn't bear to lose him.

Cord planned to leave town, to spend some time at Riverwoods, to forget Victoria and his failure as a husband. At the moment, he simply wanted out of the house, away from his wife, away from the memory of her kisses, of her softness, of how sweet she had felt in his arms.

Grabbing his high beaver hat on the way out the door, he climbed aboard his carriage and headed straight for his club. For the next several hours, he sat by himself and quietly got drunk.

It was sometime after midnight that he stumbled upstairs into one of the guest rooms, a place he could stay without speculation as to why he hadn't gone home.

In the world of the aristocracy where marriages were mostly arranged, couples often felt little real affection for each other. They lived separately so each could carry on his or her private affairs.

Surprisingly, Cord had no desire to begin such an affair. His heart was badly battered, and after losing Victoria he didn't feel the least desire for a woman.

Except his wife, of course, and she was the one woman he could not have. He tried not to think of their last frantic coupling, the desperation, the sadness that seemed to surround them both as their bodies joined one final time. He hadn't meant for it to happen, never considered that it would.

But he was attracted to Victoria as he had never been to another woman, and her innocent seduction had been impossible to resist.

He envied Fox.

Thinking of Victoria's lover, his hand balled into a fist. The image arose of Julian caressing her beautiful b.r.e.a.s.t.s, spending himself in her luscious body, and Cord's stomach churned. He closed his eyes to block the image and crossed his small, rented, upstairs guest room to the dresser. Lifting the stopper off a decanter of brandy, he poured himself a gla.s.s.

He was drinking too much, but he didn't care. He drained the gla.s.s and filled it again and took another long mind-numbing swallow. The liquor dulled the pain, but only a little, not enough to make him forget.

The week crept past. It was time he went home and got his things together, made plans for his stay at Riverwoods. He tried not to think whether Victoria would be there at the house or if she had gone off with her lover.

Lucky for Fox, the man had been away during those first wild moments when Cord had discovered his wife's affair. According to McPhee's report, Fox was on his way to his family estate in York. If the man had been in London, he would have been facing a duel, or a horsewhipping at the very least.

Fortunately, Cord's common sense had finally returned. He had accepted the unpleasant fact that he was the one who had betrayed Victoria, not the other way around. He had left his bride alone and lonely, keeping her at a safe distance, except when they were in bed.

If only he could do things over. He would tell her the way he felt, admit that he loved her. Better still, he would show her. He would spend every second he could with her, do whatever it took to make her happy and erase the lonely expression he had so often seen on her face.

Why had he done it? Why had he been so afraid to let himself love her?

But in his heart he knew. He'd been thirteen years old when his mother had died, a slow, agonizing death that took weeks and had nearly destroyed him. He'd been tortured by her suffering and his inability to help her. He'd hated himself for not being stronger, not being tougher. He should have been able to handle the loss instead of letting it tear him apart.

But he had learned his lesson. In the years that followed, he had learned to insulate himself from his feelings, to protect himself so he wouldn't be hurt that way again. He had taken the easy way out. He had indulged the wild side of his nature, immersed himself in his hedonistic pleasures. He had become so wrapped up in himself that he had failed his father when he needed Cord the most.

Now he had failed his wife.

Cord made his way downstairs to the card room. It was time to go home, to leave the sanctuary of the club and prepare for his trip to the country.

Soon, he told himself.

But instead of leaving, he headed for one of the big overstuffed leather chairs in front of the hearth. He was about to sit down when he spotted the duke of Sheffield walking toward him. He wasn't certain if he should be glad to see his friend, or dread the coming conversation.

"I went by your house," Rafe said. "When no one seemed to know where you were, I figured I might find you here. Mind if I join you?"

Cord nodded his head. "Though I should probably warn you, I'm not the best company."

Rafe signaled to a waiter, and a few seconds later had a gla.s.s of brandy in his hand. They sat down in the big leather chairs, for the moment by themselves.

"You look like h.e.l.l," Rafe said, swirling the liquor in his gla.s.s.

"Thanks."

"There's talk on the street. Rumor has it you are filing annulment papers."

Cord sat up straighter in his chair. "How the h.e.l.l could anyone know that?"

"A talkative clerk, perhaps. Or one of your servants overheard something that was said. I presume you've told Victoria."

"I've told her." Cord looked down at the brandy he held in his hand but didn't take a drink. "You were right about Fox and Victoria. I had Jonas McPhee look into the matter."

Rafe's blue eyes narrowed. "Are you certain? I rather thought your wife was in love with you."

Cord glanced away, wishing it were true. "It's my fault. I virtually ignored her. I practically drove her into the arms of another man."

Rafe took a drink of his brandy. "d.a.m.ned women. They get at you one way or another." Cord knew he was thinking of Danielle, the girl he'd been engaged to marry. Rafe had found her in one of his closest friend's bed. He had never gotten over the betrayal.

"As I said, the fault was mine. From the start of the marriage, I handled things poorly. h.e.l.l, even before we were wed."

"Perhaps. Still, I can't credit a woman giving up on a man so soon. Particularly one with whom she seemed so thoroughly in love."

"Victoria never loved me. Perhaps, for a time, she thought she did."

"What about you? Did you love her?"

He sipped his drink, thinking of the night he had confronted her in his study over moving the pieces on his chessboard and she had soundly trounced him in the match.

"I loved her almost from the start. I was a fool, Sheffield. I deserve exactly what I got."

Rafe made no reply.

"If you don't mind, I think I'll go on up and get some sleep." It was only nine o'clock, but he felt bone-tired.

"This will pa.s.s, my friend," Rafe said gently. "There are other women to love."

But Rafe had yet to find one.

And Cord didn't think he would, either.

Tory tried to pretend her life was normal. She had been lonely before, even with Cord in the house.

She was completely miserable without him.

Little more than a week had pa.s.sed since he had moved out, but it seemed more like years. She hadn't told anyone about the annulment. Not Gracie, not even Claire. Eventually, she would have to say something. Once the filing was posted in the newspaper, everyone in London would know.

When Claire burst through the front door unexpectedly that afternoon, Tory was certain her sister had found out. Dear G.o.d, the filing must be public. He stomach squeezed as Timmons announced her sister's arrival. Tory pasted on a smile and went to greet her.

"Tory!" Claire was grinning so broadly, a dimple appeared in her cheek. "The most wonderful thing has happened!"

It was hardly the greeting she had expected. It was stupid to feel relief that the end had not yet truly come.

"Calm down, darling." She took Claire's hand, led her into the drawing room and closed the door. With Cord away, there was enough gossip in the house already. "All right, now. Tell me what has got you so excited."

"It's Percy. He loves me! I was so afraid he had only married me out of pity." She released a tinkling laugh. "Last night he said he loves me so much sometimes he simply can't breathe. He said he looks at me and love fills him to overflowing. I told him I loved him, too, and he kissed me, and it was so wonderful, Tory."

Tory opened her mouth to tell Claire how happy she was for her, but a choking sound came out instead. Her eyes filled with tears and a great sob tore loose from somewhere deep inside her. Her legs went weak and she feared they would buckle beneath her.

"Tory!" Claire caught her round the waist and helped her over to the sofa. Tory sank down, holding on to her sister for support.

"What is it, Tory? Dear G.o.d, what has happened?"

The tears just kept coming. Claire hastily dug into her reticule and pulled out one of her pretty lace handkerchiefs.

Tory accepted the cloth and wiped at her tears, trying to find the right words. "Cord has left me."

"What are you talking about? Cord is your husband. He can't just leave."

She closed her eyes, but moisture leaked from beneath her lashes. "I wanted to make him love me. I thought if I made him jealous...if he believed other men found me attractive, perhaps his affections would grow." She sniffed back a fresh round of tears. "Julian agreed to help me. We both...both thought it was a good idea at the time."

She told Claire all that had happened, how Cord believed she had never gone to Harwood, how the servants had lied to protect her and wound up convincing him that she had never been there at all. She told Claire about going to their old family town house in Greenbower Street and how she had run into Julian and he had gone with her and how Cord had found out they were together and thought it was a lovers' tryst.

Claire squeezed her hand. "It's going to be all right, Tory. You can straighten all of this out. You just have to find a way to make Cord see you are telling the truth. Go to Harwood and bring Greta back. She can tell Cord that you really were there."

"He won't believe her. He'll think I paid her or something."

"Perhaps Percy and I could speak to him. We could tell him you and Julian are only just friends."

"He would simply think you were too naive to see the truth."

"Then you must write to Julian. Ask him to come back and explain."