Dukes by the Dozen

by Grace Burrowes

  Gazing at her, Dermot forgot why he’d come here. If anyone asked him just then, he’d have a difficult time coming up with the names of the two friends they’d stranded in the loch. All he could think of was that he was the luckiest man alive.

  Millie was his life, his love, and the bravest woman who ever lived. Holding her hand during her surgery a year ago, he’d prayed that she would never experience a moment’s pain again. But here she was, ready to give birth any day now.

  “Come here.” She opened her arms. “I believe you’re more nervous than I am.”

  Of course, he was nervous. Dermot was a doctor. He’d trained as a surgeon. He knew too much. He knew everything that could go wrong.

  He gathered Millie in his arms. He kissed her brow, her lips. “I wish I could take on the pain of this childbirth for you.”

  She clutched his coat and leaned against him. “I might wish for that too, if the pain gets any stronger than this.”

  “Millie?”

  “Yes, my love. It’s happening. Right now.”

  Bamberg’s eyes flashed with excitement as he spoke of his expeditions. His voice grew thick with emotion as he related stories about the kindness of those he’d met in the farthest corners of the world. They continued to walk, and Taylor was swept into his world.

  “Knowledge of other people is the only way to end the arrogant prejudices and the narrow-mindedness we seem to pride ourselves on here in Europe. Travel is the answer. We cannot achieve any understanding by stagnating in one place.”

  Taylor had been entranced by this man the first time they met. And she’d been running away since because of her own insecurity. But now, she silently sent a prayer of gratitude heavenward for her meddling friend Millie and her wisdom in making her meet Bamberg again.

  She’d been whiling away her time in large, secure houses for much of her life. Thanks to her mother, Taylor had acquired an education that surpassed that of most British ladies. But still, that wasn’t enough. What she knew was nothing in comparison with what this man had seen of the world. Her heart swelled hearing him talk, learning what it was he believed.

  Taylor lost track of how long they’d been walking. The more time they spent with each other, the more at ease they became. Her arm remained linked with his. Their shoulders touched, their steps had found a comfortable rhythm. The initial awkwardness she felt had disappeared. Every now and again, he took her hand to assist her over an uneven patch.

  She guessed if the groom returned with a boat right now, she’d tell him to wait. She had so many more questions to ask.

  “You said that you often travel in small groups, but do women ever join you?”

  The grey-green eyes focused on her face. “Some of the places are quite remote and difficult to reach, but wives or daughters often travel on these expeditions.”

  “What is your view of them coming along?” she asked. “Do they slow you down? Do you consider them a nuisance?”

  “Hardly,” he replied with no hesitation. “I admire them. I’ve seen only fortitude and courage in women who take up the challenge of exploring places previously unknown to us. To be honest, I’ve found myself quite envious of the men they accompany.”

  “Envious? Why?”

  “Because I would suppose only a woman truly in love would part with the comforts of her life here and go on a journey that is inherently fraught with danger.”

  Taylor respected and admired his sentiment, but she doubted that was the only thing that would motivate a person to go. She stopped and turned to face him. “But what if a woman simply seeks adventure? What if she craves the knowledge of the world that, as you say, only travel can provide? Don’t you think her thirst can be the same as a man’s?”

  A droplet of rain fell on her face, and she held a hand open to catch the next. She glanced up and was surprised by the ominously dark clouds that had closed off the sky above them.

  “I have no doubt of it. Still, here in Europe, women are considered the gentler sex and—”

  “And they are admired by men for their softness, their vulnerability, their gentle manner.”

  “I can’t speak for other men. Only for myself. I admire a woman for her courage. I respect one who thinks and speaks her mind, who refuses to be constrained by our society’s rigid expectations of her sex.” He held her gaze. “I was spellbound when I saw you charging through the mud to help a handful of exhausted servants. I knew at that moment, you were the woman I’d come searching for.”

  Before Taylor could react, before she could even force a breath into her lungs, a flash of lightning split the air on the far shore, and she felt the crack of thunder in every fiber of her body. An instant later, another bolt lit the sky, and the heavens suddenly opened, sending them running through the teeming rain toward the cottage.

  The handsome face took on a dark purple shade before the end of each contraction.

  “Breathe, Dermot. Breathe, my love.”

  Millie couldn’t believe she was the one giving directions to her husband in a time like this, but she was worried about him. Somehow, they’d managed to make it to their own bedroom. And with Dermot shouting orders along the way, the midwife from Aberdeen was already waiting at Millie’s bedside when they arrived in the room.

  “Do you want to get into the bed?” the woman asked.

  “Not yet. I’d prefer to be walking,” Millie answered, clutching her husband’s hand.

  “Your sister Jo has already been sent for,” Dermot told her. “And my aunt is at the door if you want her with you.”

  The pain continued to come in waves, and the intensity was still bearable.

  “I only want you,” she whispered, leaning into her husband’s embrace.

  The memory of her operation last year came to her now. Her parents and every one of her siblings had been present in Dr. Drummond’s surgery. But Millie had wanted only Dermot with her.

  “I need you to be as brave for me as you were the last time I was in pain,” she murmured. “Can you do that for me?”

  “I love you, Millie. I’ll be whatever you want me to be.”

  Chapter 5

  How to Ditch A Duke

  – Step 5 –

  Smother Him with Attention

  * * *

  The sky opened, and the hard wind gusts battered them as they ran across the meadow. Brilliant flashes of lightning and deafening cracks of thunder exploded around them. The air crackled. They were both breathless when they burst into the cottage. Bamberg pushed the door shut to keep out the driving rain.

  “I can’t believe this storm was part of Millie’s plan.” Taylor laughed as she pulled off her soaked short jacket.

  “McKendry has always been an incorrigible rogue. I believe he’s capable of anything.”

  An eyebrow arched. “Have you known him long?”

  “For well over a decade. We attended university together.”

  She let out a sigh and shook her head. “I should have known.”

  “What should you have known?”

  “The reason why my friend felt comfortable thrusting us together out here. Leaving me alone on this island with you. She must have absolute trust in you and in your sense of honor.”

  Taylor took a handkerchief out of her pocket to dry her face. If she hadn’t mentioned the word honor, he could easily have kissed away those droplets, drying each glistening bead with the soft touch of his mouth.

  Lightning flashed, lighting up the cracks around the door and the windows, and he could feel the thunder reverberate under foot. She clearly felt it too, and she shivered. He looked around at the cottage. Not much to it. A fireplace and a small stack of dry wood. A narrow bed. An ancient chest containing a blanket. He shook it out and offered it to her before crouching by the fireplace. A moment later, flames lit the room.

  “Did you take part in their planning?”

  He looked over his shoulder and found Taylor leaning against the door.

  “I spoke the truth when I said D
ermot used family as an excuse for sending me out to this island.” He rose to his feet, facing her. “Of course, I suspected and hoped other arrangements were in the works.”

  “What kind of arrangements?”

  “The situation we’re in right now never occurred to me, but I thought he’d find a way for me to see you. He knew I wanted, more than anything, to express to you my feelings.”

  She pushed away from the door. Her steps were slow, and her gaze held his as she approached.

  “Did you mean what you said to me outside?”

  Rain pelted against the shuttered windows. The wind howled, and the fire flared in the fireplace.

  “Every word, liebling.” He didn’t know how much time they had left together. Perhaps the storm would prompt Dermot to send a boat right away. He didn’t want to miss this chance to speak from his heart. “You are beautiful. And courageous. And smart. I haven’t stopped thinking of you from the moment I first laid eyes on you. What I didn’t get a chance to finish saying was that you would do me a great honor if you’d consider being my wife.”

  She looked away, staring at the fire. “A wife to provide you with the income to continue adventuring while I’m left on my own in your castle?”

  This was what lay behind her questions outside. He wanted to pull her into his arms, to hold her as he spoke. But he understood her hesitation. Now was the moment to allay her fears or lose her forever. The time had come for her to know the truth.

  “I have no need for your fortune. My estates are thriving. The people back home are well cared for. Everyone who lived through the ravages of Napoleon’s wars has suffered, but we recovered quickly. My people are feeling no hardship.” Bamberg needed her to understand he wasn’t like her father. “I’m not marrying for money.”

  She was silent for a moment as her eyes caressed his face. “But…what about the rumors?”

  “I started them myself.”

  “Then why was it that you allowed my father to coerce you into calling on me?”

  “You thought it was your fortune that enticed me? There was no coercing on his part. It was I who approached him after the carriage accident. I offered him my card. I wanted to call on you.”

  Her chin dropped onto her chest. He saw her lift a handkerchief to her cheek.

  “You will not be left alone at my castle. I want a wife who will be with me wherever I go, who will share a life we choose to build together, who will travel and explore at my side for as long as we both choose that path. I’m looking for a friend and a lover, a partner to cherish and love as she cherishes and loves me.”

  He finally had a chance to speak the words. His heart’s desire now lay open and unadorned at her feet. For these past few months, she’d been running, and he’d been chasing. But he’d never lost hope. Now that they were together, however, now that he’d placed his offer before her, he feared the answer. What if she didn’t find him worthy of her? What if this was not the life she wanted?

  Then Bamberg looked more closely at the handkerchief in her hand as she brushed away more tears. He took a step closer and enclosed her hand in his. He had his answer.

  “Let me see that.”

  “You can’t have it back.”

  She’d kept his handkerchief. He took a deep breath. Feelings of pleasure and relief battled within him. He pushed the wet strands of golden hair out of her face. He ran his thumb across her bottom lip.

  “Taylor, mein Schatz, I do wish you hadn’t mentioned the word honor before.” He gently brushed his knuckles against her wet cheek and let his hand drop.

  Her eyes were shimmering like sapphires when she looked up at him. She came closer.

  “You have behaved honorably, but that doesn’t mean I have to.” Her arms slid upward, encircling his neck. Her breasts pressed against his chest, and she placed soft kisses on his chin, his lips. She ran her fingers through his hair, her mouth moving to his ear, where she whispered her answer. “I’m honored by your offer, Your Grace. Wife, partner, lover. Whatever you want me to be, I shall be. I’m yours.”

  For years, she’d told herself she was complete without a man, and that was true, to an extent. She lacked experience, but she was not ignorant of the body’s pleasures. But that decade of denying her desire was gone. She’d come to believe that this kind of love would never come her way. That assumption was now shattered too, punctuated by each flash of lightning and each crack of thunder.

  Now, with Bamberg, all her hesitation was swept away. They somehow moved against the wall. Her back pressed against it. His body was only a whisper away. Desire ripped through her, an intense primitive force that left her trembling. A throb low in her belly started to spread.

  He caressed the side of her face, his thumb brushing her bottom lip.

  “My beautiful Taylor. My precious jewel. You make me the happiest of men.”

  Their mouths came together, and her entire body was caught in a whirlwind of awareness. His lips played with hers. His fingers pushed into her damp hair, and pins fell to her feet. She melted into his touch and heard a soft cry of need spring from her lips.

  Bamberg deepened the kiss, his tongue teasing the seam of her lips. The heat in her belly became an ache, spreading through her limbs and to her breasts. Her lips parted under his, inviting him in, wanting, needing more of him. She heard his satisfied groan as his tongue slipped into her mouth.

  A jolt of passion rushed through her. Taylor kissed him back, her tongue mimicking the dance she’d just learned.

  Whatever shred of control he was hanging onto suddenly disappeared. His fingers threaded into her hair, and he pulled her head back, his mouth taking, drinking in all she was willingly offering him.

  She took her hands from around his neck and trailed her fingers over the damp coat, pushing it off his shoulders. She was desperate to feel his skin. She tugged at his waistcoat.

  “I’ll not take you before our marriage, Taylor,” he whispered against her lips.

  “But I want you now,” she cried breathlessly.

  He smiled, and his hands slid down along her spine and over her bottom. He pulled her tight, and she could feel his hardness. She was trapped, but there was nowhere else she wanted to be. The feel of her body against his was a miracle.

  His lips left her mouth and caressed her cheek before skimming over her jaw. When they found the sensitive skin of her throat, she pressed her back more fully against the wall, willingly offering him her body.

  He tugged at the neckline of her dress, and her breasts sprang free. Every nerve in her body cried for more when his fingers stroked a hard nipple and then tested the heavy fullness of her breast in his hand.

  The pressure in her belly continued to build. She couldn’t think or focus. She was robbed of breath, but still she wanted more.

  Bringing his mouth back to her lips, he whispered, “To hold us over, until the wedding night.”

  His voice was ragged, his breath as short as hers. She didn’t know what he meant, and then he lifted the front of her skirts and pressed his leg against her. Taylor’s thighs clenched around his muscles, and she felt wet. Giving in to some primal instinct, she began to rock against him as his mouth closed around a nipple.

  Bamberg’s hand found its way through her skirts until he reached the folds of her sex. His palm pressed on her mound, his fingers retreating and entering again and again. Her body arched against him, one knee rising against his side as he steadily stoked the fires raging within her.

  She cried out softly. Her fingers delved into his hair and caressed his cheek. She wanted him never to stop. Stormy pressures were building within her. Seeing the dark planes of his face against her pale skin was intensely erotic.

  She was barely aware that she was standing at the moment when her world shifted. Wrapped around him, she came apart, burying her cries of release against his chest.

  Millie continued to refuse the midwife’s suggestion of lying in the bed.

  Too many people were coming and going. Appare
ntly, childbirth allowed for no privacy whatsoever. Her sister Jo wouldn’t take no for an answer and settled in as a permanent fixture beside Dermot. Her parents had arrived at the Abbey just in time, and Millie was happy they were safely here. But her mother’s tears were no help to her, and Lady Millicent was banished from the room until her grandchild was born.

  Sometime in the midst of it all, Millie thought of Taylor and the duke and wondered if anyone had gone after them. Before she could say a word to Dermot, however, another fierce contraction gripped her, and the thought fled into the oblivion of pain.

  Happily, no one had come after them. During the night, the rain and the wind stopped, and the sound of thunder faded off to the east. Inside the cottage, the fire’s embers only flickered, and the air had grown cool.

  The single blanket was not nearly long enough to cover Bamberg, and his feet extended a good few inches beyond the bottom. The two of them were squeezed into a narrow bed not even wide enough to support the width of his shoulders. Her elbow poked into his side, and her naked back was pressed against his bare chest. She was deliciously warm in his arms. He’d spent the night in his breeches, his good intentions intact.

  Last night had been a first for her…and a first for him.

  For her, it had offered the first experience of her birthright as a woman. For him, it was the wonderful realization that the angelic woman lying in his arms was going to be his partner in life, forever.

  Bamberg knew when she awoke by the change in her soft breathing. He smiled and ran his fingers through the silky golden tresses draped over his arm.

  It was nearly dawn. Grey light filtered in from around the door and the shuttered windows. He knew they should be up and dressed, for Dermot and Millie would certainly send a boat after them now that the storm had passed. He owed so much to his friends. He’d expected a few hours. They’d given him the chance for a lifetime of happiness.