A Deal with a Duke

by Christie Kelley

  She should want the best for Harry. Mary was a good woman from a better family than hers. And Mary seemed to genuinely like Charlotte. Louisa stole another glance at Harry, who laughed again at something Mary said.

  Oh dear Lord, was Tessa correct? Louisa spied him again and knew it was true. She was in love with Harry.

  “Here is your wine,” Collingwood said as he returned. “I did tell the footman you would prefer the smallest glass.”

  “Thank you.”

  Damn him. Louisa wanted a large glass of wine followed by a snifter or two of brandy—anything to ease the pain of seeing Harry and Mary Gardiner together.

  The poetry reading tortured her soul as the poet spoke of love, jealousy, and heartache. She pressed her lips together to keep from crying. It was not like her to be a jealous person. Or maybe she’d never had a reason to be envious before now.

  Emma and Bolton whispered to each other with smitten smiles on their faces. Mary sat next to Harry, intimately close. While she couldn’t see them, she knew Tessa and Jack were a few rows behind them, most likely telling each other how they couldn’t wait for their child to be born.

  Collingwood was a nice man but sitting next to him did nothing to her senses. He smelled, well...nice, not spicy, leathery, and wholly enticing like Harry. At one point during the reading, Collingwood’s thigh accidentally touched hers, and again, she felt nothing. Not one spark of desire.

  Was this to be her lot in life?

  She could not live like that after Harry’s kiss. Not when she craved another kiss from him. Craved seemed like too weak of a word. Desire. Want.

  Need.

  She needed another kiss from him. While she had jested about being a Daring Drake sister to Emma, the most daring thing she’d ever done was visit Harry in Northumbria, or walk alone in the gardens with him, or kiss him. Her ability to be daring always revolved around him.

  When the poet finally finished, she politely clapped while all she wanted to do was throw something at him for torturing her. Emma and Bolton split off to speak with his mother and a friend. Thankfully Collingwood made his excuse to Louisa and departed their little group. She moved to the back of the room where a table was set with refreshments and light fare.

  “Mary Gardiner must have lost her mind,” Miss Comstock whispered to her mother.

  “Indeed. I always had a high opinion of the lady until now.”

  Was there something she didn’t know about Mary Gardiner? Usually, Louisa would ignore the gossips, but this topic held her interest. She pretended to be overly interested in the sliced ham closer to the Comstocks.

  “I realize he is a duke, but why would she take a chance when there is every indication he may end up like his father?”

  Louisa pressed a hand to her belly. A movement to her side caught her eye. Harry moved away from the table. She closed her eyes as the pain overwhelmed her. Had he heard those despicable ladies?

  Hearing them continue, she finally turned and said, “I do hope you realize that the duke is a fine upstanding gentleman with not even a touch of madness. He stayed in the North to mourn his wife and keep his daughter away from small-minded individuals in town. I cannot blame him after overhearing you two speak of the man as if he belongs in Bedlam.”

  “Miss Drake!” Mrs. Comstock exclaimed in a whispered tone. “Your mother will hear of this exchange.”

  “I am certain she will. Good evening.”

  She spun around and strode away from them before either gape-mouthed lady could speak again. Glancing around, she realized Harry must have left the party. She must talk to him and make him understand only the pettiest members of the ton held those opinions of him.

  Emma stood on the outside of a group conversation between Lord Danvers, Lady Bolton, and her son. Louisa’s heart went out to her sister too. Bolton was a good man but dominated by his mother. Her sister moved away from the group as Louisa approached.

  Tessa ambled over to her with a look of pity in her eyes. “Emma, I do hope you don’t mind, but I would like Louisa to return home with me tonight. She and I haven’t seen each other in a while and need to chat.”

  Emma scowled. “At this hour? And why can’t I come, too?”

  “I promised Mamma that you would return by eleven,” Louisa said, curious why Tessa would wish to speak right now.

  “You two always keep secrets from me,” Emma commented with a pout before yawning. “It does not matter. I am tired.”

  “Thank you. I will go with Tessa and Jack. Let Mamma know I will be home late.”

  “Of course,” Emma replied.

  Louisa glanced back at Mrs. Gardiner, who now spoke with Collingwood. The ache in her heart overwhelmed her. Thinking back to the poet’s words about giving up the woman he loved for her to have a better life, Louisa wondered if she must do this for both Emma and Harry. Emma would get the man she loved, and Harry would find a proper lady. Once Emma married, it would no longer matter. Louisa could pursue any man she wanted.

  Except for the one man who would be married himself by then.

  Once Tessa and Jack arrived at their house, Louisa and Tessa retired to the drawing room.

  “What is wrong?” Tessa asked.

  “How did you know?”

  Tessa smiled over at her. “I couldn’t help but notice how you kept glancing over at Worthington but looked as if you were about to cry even after that dreadful poet had finished.”

  Louisa told her sister what the Comstock ladies had said. “I need to see him, Tessa. Alone. Tonight.”

  “Have you lost your mind?”

  Louisa bit down on her lower lip. It was not the answer she’d expected from her sister. “Tessa, I must see him privately. He must realize that not everyone thinks as Miss Comstock does.”

  “Louisa, you are asking me to let you see Worthington alone at night. You have no idea about the scandalous things that can happen to a young lady when she visits a man at night.”

  She tilted her head. “I spent three nights at Northwood Park and left in the same virtuous state I arrived in.”

  “Send him a note.”

  “I also need to know if Mary Gardener is a favorite and whether or not I need to continue to consider finding a wife for him.” And then there was Miss Turnbull to discuss.

  “Which you can do in a note,” Tessa insisted as she stared at Louisa. “There is more, isn’t there?”

  Louisa sighed and told her sister the other matter on her mind. “The looks I have seen on Lady Bolton’s face have me concerned for Emma. Mamma insists I stop speaking with Harry because Lady Bolton will not be happy about any connection between our family and his.”

  Tessa frowned. “Are you going to stop your search for a wife for him, then?”

  “Of course not,” Louisa agreed reluctantly. “If Mary Gardiner is not the right lady for him. We will need to be more tactful.”

  “I hardly think visiting Worthington at his home at almost midnight is being tactful.”

  “It may be my only chance,” Louisa whispered.

  Tessa looked away wistfully as if remembering something from her past. “Promise me you are not going to his home for a liaison.”

  After the way he gazed at Mary, an affair with Louisa was the last thing on his mind. “I hardly think he is interested in me. I must talk to him about our pact, but after Lady Bolton’s visit, I must be careful that no one sees us. I am having difficulties finding anyone suitable for him.”

  “Because he wants you,” Tessa said, smiling.

  “No, he does not.” He wanted Mary, not her.

  “Let me speak to Jack.”

  Within thirty minutes, Louisa walked out the door with Jack. Once they were in the carriage, Jack said, “One hour, Louisa. Not a minute more.”

  “Yes, Jack.”

  “I shall wait right outside should you decide to leave early.”

  The carriage departed for Harry’s home in Grosvenor Square. She prayed Harry had returned directly to his house. By the tim
e she arrived, her nerves were taut. Noticing several windows still lit, it appeared he had not yet retired.

  The door opened slowly to Jenkins’ scowl. “Miss Drake? What are you doing here at this late hour?”

  “I—I must speak with the duke immediately, Jenkins.”

  He shook his head as he opened the door for her. “Come in.”

  “Tell him it is imperative.”

  “When isn’t it?” he grumbled as he walked down the hall.

  Louisa inhaled, praying for calm.

  “Come this way, Miss Drake,” Jenkins grumbled from the end of the corridor.

  Louisa followed him to Harry’s study, where he sat by the fire sipping a brandy. She suddenly wished she’d had far more than one glass of wine tonight.

  Harry rose and shook his head. “Close the door behind you as you leave, Jenkins.”

  Jenkins paused as if to question the request, but then said, “As you wish.”

  Once the door closed, he glared over at her with clenched fists. “What the bloody hell are you doing here at this hour?”

  “Good evening to you, too,” Louisa replied, stepping further into the room. “I do hope you enjoyed the poetry reading. Although, I do remember you once stating that you didn’t enjoy poetry.”

  “Perhaps it depends on the company during the readings.”

  “Certainly, sitting near Mary Gardiner must have made the evening so much more pleasant.” She had no idea what made her sound so spiteful. Seeing him tonight reminded her of the poet’s words about giving up the one he loved. Louisa did not want to give up Harry.

  “Indeed, as I’m sure Collingwood was excellent company.”

  “Yes, he was,” she said tartly.

  “You still haven’t told me why you are here?”

  “I wanted to discover how your call went with Miss Turnbull. Should I keep looking? Or is Mary Gardiner the top contender.” She hated the biting sound of jealousy in her voice. Oh, God, it was envy.

  “Miss Turnbull is not a contender.”

  She nodded. “I see.”

  “There was no need to come to my house when a note would have sufficed. Have you no sense?”

  Louisa laughed harshly before moving to the small table where the brandy was stored. “No, apparently, I do not.”

  At least not where he was concerned. She poured the brandy and filled the snifter almost as much as Charlotte had the day she’d fallen into the pond. “I needed to speak with you regarding another topic.”

  “What now?” he demanded.

  She swallowed a large gulp and then coughed. “Can we not be civil, Harry?”

  “By all means.” He waved at the chairs behind him. “Do sit down, Miss Drake. Shall I call for tea?”

  Ignoring his sarcasm, she walked over to the large cherry desk that dominated the room and leaned against it. She needed as much distance as she could get from his handsome face. “I felt dreadful when I noticed that you overheard those horrible Comstock ladies.”

  “They were only saying aloud what everyone is thinking. It is not the first time I’ve overheard such venom.”

  Louisa’s closed her eyes. “Oh, Harry, I’m so sorry. But please believe me that not everyone thinks the way they do.”

  “It matters not.”

  Hearing the forceful tone of his voice, Louisa worried that he would marry Mary Gardiner only to secure a wife and depart for Northwood Park. “Why not?”

  “I shall be leaving soon enough. Then all those lovely ladies of good Society can forget they know me at all.”

  “Oh? Leaving so soon?”

  “Mary Gardiner and I might suit after all,” he replied flatly.

  “Oh?” she whispered, staring over at him. She clutched the overhang of the desk for support. She couldn’t let this happen. Mary Gardiner was not the right woman for him. What had Emma said? If all else fails, push him away. If he loved her, he would find a way to make a marriage work. Attempting Emma’s plan might kill Louisa, but she decided to try.

  “Good luck with Mary, then,” she said in a light tone that belied her true feelings. “I also came to see you tonight because it has been brought to my attention that our friendship may impact Emma’s possibility with Bolton.”

  Harry drained his brandy and then moved to pour himself another. “I suppose your mother thought our friendship far too scandalous?”

  “Yes.” Louisa told him of Lady Bolton’s visit after Lady Gringham had noticed them return from the garden.

  “I see.”

  “I have to protect my younger sister, Harry. She loves Bolton.”

  “I see,” he said again before sipping his brandy calmly.

  Why wasn’t he reacting to her rejection of him? Emma’s plan was not working.“That is all you can say? I see?”

  “What more is there to say?” he asked in a dark tone.

  “Tell me how it is unfair that two friends cannot meet on a terrace with nothing more than friendship on their mind.” Louisa set her snifter down. When she looked up, he was in front of her.

  “Who said there is nothing more on either of our minds?”

  “Wh—What do you mean?”

  He leaned in closer until she could smell the familiar scent of him, leather, cinnamon, and tonight brandy. “You never push me away when I kiss you, Louisa.” He drew a finger down her jaw until it reached her lips. “Why is that?”

  “Why, Harry, I do believe you are drunk.”

  He smiled in a feral way that sent shivers down her spine. “Not even close to being foxed, my dear.”

  “Then you must be mad,” she whispered, unable to look away from those piercing gray eyes.

  “Yes, madness this is.” He skimmed her jaw with light kisses until she shivered. “Did you enjoy sitting next to Collingwood tonight? He seemed to hang on to your every word.”

  “Of course, he is a perfect gentleman.”

  “Unlike me?” Harry asked before his tongue grazed her earlobe.

  She moaned softly. “It appeared you were paying particular attention to Mary tonight,” she managed to say in a breathless tone.

  “Did that bother you?” He pulled away and stared down at her. “Were you jealous that I was speaking with her instead of you?”

  She couldn’t look away from his searching gray eyes. Heat crossed her cheeks and down her neck. How could she tell him her true feelings when they were supposed to stay away from each other? But she had no desire to be apart from him.

  “Oh, Harry,” she barely whispered before his mouth was on hers. She clung to him, grateful for the support of the desk behind her. Her knees felt as if they would buckle as his tongue played with hers.

  Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pressed her body against his, feeling the strength of his arms securing her to him. Rational thought slipped away with each swipe of his tongue on hers. Her senses were overwhelmed with the taste of brandy on his tongue, the scent of his spicy soap, and the strength of his body against hers. The room seemed so hot. All she wanted to do was rid herself of her clothing and feel his skin against her.

  No man had ever made her so crazed with lust. It should have felt wrong to be this intimate with Harry, and yet it felt incredibly right. She could not get enough of him and never would.

  “Louisa,” he whispered as she reached for the buttons of his waistcoat. “We must stop.”

  “Please don’t say a word,” she said, skimming her hands over the garment. She desperately wanted to feel the heat of his skin under her hands. Glancing up at him, she saw the raw hunger in his gray eyes.

  Quickly his mouth returned to hers as they both fought the passion between them. Louisa knew she was close to losing all control and not caring about the consequences. Why shouldn’t she have one chance with Harry? At least when she was an old spinster, she would have the memories of this night. Somehow, he had loosened the lacing on her dress and stays enough to pull the gown down over her breasts. He eased his large hand under the top of her stays and freed her breasts f
rom their confinement.

  When his mouth moved to one nipple, she thought her legs would give out. The sensation of his tongue brushing against the peak sent even more moisture between her legs. She moaned as he suckled her.

  “Harry,” she whispered as his hand slowly lifted the hem of her skirts. His fingers grazed her thigh until she felt him press a finger between her folds. She gasped at the contact.

  Desire spiraled upward as he found that special spot. Never in the years, she’d known him had she felt anything but friendship for him. But now...now she wanted this Harry, the madly passionate man in her arms.

  A loud commotion at the front door split them apart in an instant. The cool air against Louisa’s breasts brought her back to reality. Louisa gasped as she realized how close she’d come to giving herself to him.

  “Where the bloody hell is she?” a booming male from the front hall shouted.

  “Oh God, it’s Raynerson,” Louisa whispered.

  “Turn around quickly,” Harry said before setting her stays and gown in order. “Jenkins will stall him. Fix your hair.”

  She looked in the mirror and paused. Her face was flush, her lips swollen from heated kisses and her hair in shambles from Harry’s hands. While he donned his waistcoat and jacket, she pushed her hair back into place before sitting down in the chair by the fireplace.

  HARRY PICKED UP HER brandy from the desk and took the seat next to her, hoping it would appear to her brother-in-law as if nothing untoward had happened in this room. Of course, if he had to stand, Raynerson would be blind not to notice the painful erection pressing against his breeches.

  Dammit, what had he done? If not for the interruption, he might have made love to her against the desk. Then he would have been forced to marry her and ruin her life for good. God, he was a fool around her.

  The door to the study hurled opened with such force that it hit the wall.

  “Jack?” Louisa said in mock surprise. “What are you doing here so soon? You had said you would give me an hour.”

  “My wife should have a better concept of what can happen in an hour when a man and women are alone in a room.”

  “Or forty-five minutes to be exact,” Louisa commented, glancing at the mantel clock.