One Night with a Duke

by Sandra Masters

  He knew Lady Minerva to be correct in most of her assumptions. However, the subject of mistresses became one that seemed to raise its pernicious head more often than not. “Old habits die hard,” he stated. “Samantha would make any man a fine wife. I’m aware of that.” His problem simplified. He could not be sure of his readiness for a drastic change as yet—or that much spirit in a woman.

  “Why do you speak like a man twenty years older than you are? Do you not seek some excitement and adventure in your life other than your business and Parliament? Your order and routine were well-practiced in your younger years of inheritance, but now with all you’ve accomplished, I would venture you find it forlorn without a wife. Otherwise, you’ll continue to be an unhappy man for regardless of all you survey you have no one with whom to share happiness.” She waved a hand in the air.

  “I have wrestled with myself on many things, my lady. As I stated, this is a time for us to interact with each other. Such relationships, to me, are forged for a lifetime and not to be taken without consideration. I’m a man who is aware of his responsibilities to all concerned.” He shook his head in wonderment. “Are all the Winston women so outspoken?” He paused, then added, “Has Winston offered an objection to me?”

  Minerva’s smile reflected years of maturity. “No, he hasn’t. I like you, Your Grace. My nephew wants to emulate you in all things, and the quizzing glass makes him appear years older. You are a good mentor, but my niece is not as familiar as her brother in matters of the heart and emotions. You have sent her a strong message in the refurbishment of her suite of rooms to reflect her astrological tastes. Take care that you haven’t awakened a sleeping tigress.”

  “Tigresses and protective lionesses seem to be a female Winston trait. Am I such an ogre?” Raven gifted her with a grin and a roguish glance with intent to disarm her.

  “Don’t ply your wares on me, young man. I’m already aware of your effect on my niece.” She retrieved her fan and began to cool herself. “I’m your ally, your Grace. You should know that. Ah, but now I see Samantha comes toward us. I will leave you two to talk in a moment, but I would like your word you will not toy with her affections unless you are serious about her future with you.” She whisked her fan open with firmness. “Don’t for one minute think I throw my niece at you. I love her too much for that. She deserves better of her life when one considers how much she has suffered. When you are made aware of the totality of the tragedy, you will realize it’s a wonder Samantha didn’t fall apart. Her strength is her tower and her spirit’s her shield.”

  “You have my word, Lady Minerva. As you know, I don’t give such without great thought.” Now his curiosity became aroused. What tragedy did she refer to and when would he find out? Would it be an answer to part of the puzzle? So Samantha did have secrets, it seemed—many of them.

  “Yes. Thank you for your time, and, Your Grace,” she paused for emphasis, “I would not have you use her with shame. Otherwise, you will answer to me. We shall discuss this further at another time and place.”

  Raven was speechless. By Jove, she just threatened him. “With due respect, I don’t wish to discuss this further.” Could she be the traitor? She treated him like a minion.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Lakeside at Ravensmere

  Raven smiled when Samantha approached them. Lady Minerva now nodded at her niece, “Samantha, it’s good to have you join us. His Grace and I conversed. I tire easily but will sit under the trees near the lake if you need me.” She turned to Raven. “Thank you for your time and consideration.”

  They observed her sway away to the bench where they’d be in full view of her sight.

  Samantha was the first to offer a word. “My aunt spoke to you, Raven. I hope she didn’t dismay you. She can be strong.”

  Her green day frock was of the finest silk and wool blend with a bodice molded to her and outlined her full breasts with just enough mystery to attract interest without an invitation to indiscretion. He studied her form and realized once again her beauty in its totality. Fitted long sleeves hugged her arms and enhanced her slender fingers. Samantha’s swan-like neck lent her a regal air. More than obvious to him, her curves pronounced her femininity. The irises in her deep eyes had a citron color that flashed in expression when angry or zealous about some cause. Would they do the same in passion? Though he and Samantha shared molten kisses, she had closed her eyes.

  “I am not one easily overpowered, but she did give me wise counsel about you, dear lady. I will think about all Lady Minerva said. Now,” he smiled at her. “What is your wish? Shall we continue our duel of words or are you prepared to surrender?” He waited for an answer, but she didn’t speak. “No? Then at least another truce?”

  “Raven, no more talk of duels, words, and truces. Can we not just be ourselves? I know you respect me and don’t think I’m a brainless twit.”

  Samantha wanted to surrender to him. The word sounded like a benediction, and an invitation to seduction. His devilish smile held an appeal. His closeness disturbed, but she detected a slight withdrawal by him—an almost formality. What could her aunt have said to him?

  They walked farther toward the boathouse, and the wind whipped up and outlined her body as her gown flowed, pressed against her. He motioned to a small gazebo nearby toward which they walked in silence and thought. They didn’t need words.

  He placed his hand to her elbow—tingles raced up her arm—and helped her step into the sheltered area.

  “My aunt says I sometimes give the impression I want to be a man in a man’s world, but that’s not so.” Her curls bobbed up and down. “I’ve given deep thought to this. I now enjoy my status as a woman. Thanks in large measure to you.”

  “How so?” he was quick to ask.

  Samantha looked into his eyes to impart a sensual invitation. “For so long, it became a constraint. I tire of the need to fight alone. If I tried hard enough, I could echo my beliefs within the bounds of propriety.” She sat on the bench and patted the seat for him to join her.

  “Anyone who would want to tame your spirit in its entirety should be shot with your aunt’s gun.” Raven gave a chuckle that upturned the corners of his mouth. “It would be a challenge, though, wouldn’t it?”

  “You’re not up to challenges, Raven?” She gave a winsome smile to implore his answer.

  “On the contrary, I like challenges.”

  “I’m not a biddable woman, Your Grace,” she whispered.

  “No, you are not.”

  “It’s a weakness, I suppose.” She searched his face for some recognition.

  “It’s also strength.” He smiled at her.

  “My aunt likes to tell me that.”

  He motioned to the boathouse. “I have a confession to make.” He winked at her. “The boathouse is not locked. I contemplated an opportunity to show it to you tonight. The building is far enough away from the main house to be discreet. Would you like to see some of it now, though?”

  “Yes, yes. I would.” Samantha took his arm, and they went to the entrance. She’d never seen a room such as this. The walls soared two stories high and skylights brought in the full daylight, and at night, the firmament above would be a wondrous sight.

  Samantha spoke, “Oh, how divine. You can see the stars at night.” She sat in a chair, which faced the lake, and with great care fondled the oak arms, as her fingers followed the curves of the splendid wood.

  “Oh,” she said. The rugs on the floor were a fur not familiar to her. Samantha arose and plunked her entire body on the longhaired floor rug like a young girl and ran her fingers through it. “What kind is this?” She stretched her legs on its cover. “Hmm,” she moaned. “It’s heaven.”

  “It’s flokati from goats in the mountains of the Far East.”

  She determined to learn more about this animal. She lifted her arms to him, and he extended his to raise her from the luxuriousness of the carpet.

  Large tables abounded below windows. Sofas were built int
o the windowed walls and overlooked the lake. “I’ve never seen so grand a fireplace. It’s higher than the height of a man, with logs in place ready to light.”

  Raven said, “Perhaps we can light them tonight. Oil lamps on the sconces of the walls would provide the light at night, as well as the carved wooden candelabras. It pleasures me to see your ecstasy at the edifice that was built to celebrate lovers. Your childlike joy endears you to me.”

  Samantha fingered the candelabras. Raven advised her that a local craftsman carved them. She glazed her fingers over the fine work. “The craftmanship is quite intricate and captures the likeness of the wolf. I’d like to meet this artist one day. Is that doable?”

  “Everything is possible, Samantha.”

  “You seem much withdrawn from me, Raven. Have I done or said anything to offend again?”

  “Not today.” He gestured to another room. “Let me show you.” He walked her through another portal where a full sized bed appeared smothered in down comforters and pillows and more skylights.

  Samantha appeared to search for an appropriate word. “It’s astonishing. I’m not sure what to say, Raven. I imagine one could lie in bed and look at the stars all night. It must be magnificent. Almost like a chariot ride in the skies without having to leave the comforts of the bed.”

  Raven lowered his voice to a whisper. “You are correct. Sadly, I’ve never used it for such a purpose.”

  “But where are the boats kept? After all, you do call it a boathouse.”

  “On the lower floor is where the canoes and row boats are moored. I also have a small sailboat, but the sails are difficult to manage if the wind doesn’t cooperate. Would you like to boat with me after the ball?” Raven asked.

  “Oh, I don’t think so, Your Grace.” She used his formal title to check her thoughts. “To be with you in the dark on a moonlit night in a boat on the lake would seem indiscreet. People will talk with unkindness about me and might even congratulate you.” Her cheeks crimsoned.

  Raven found charm in this ability of hers to pink her cheeks. In somberness, he disengaged himself from his pleasant thoughts of the bed and stars. “I believe we should leave here since I’m certain your aunt will check in on us. I wish we didn’t have to go.”

  “To be compromised, a woman such as me would have to escape the watchful eyes of her aunt. Perhaps I’ll think of something?” It was such a seductive suggestion.

  “Is this something where I could be of assistance?” The scent of her, her nearness, her excitement at his favorite room—all filled the air with a delicious sensuality. His good intentions were whisked away to wherever they go to hibernate.

  She faced him. “I could get used to this…something.”

  He leaned his head toward her and his mouth sought its twin. Not only had he treasured her kisses, the response she evoked in him shook his being. Conscious of her breasts against his chest, it took maximum control not to cradle her and place her on the large bed. Instead, he plundered her mouth until he heard her breath catch.

  The feeling of her arms draped around his neck, her head resting on his shoulder, told him how much she meant to him. As if he had to be told. He released her gently, “My imagination confirms the bed sport we’d have here, tonight, alone together at last. Better said, I will be restless until I do.”

  “Raven, don’t be too sure of me…” But her protest was feeble, and Samantha didn’t move away from him. She worried her lower lip with her teeth.

  “Do you infer you can resist my tremendous charms? Let’s see what else I can do to tempt you. I know, may I invite you, my dear lady, to a chariot ride in the sky—tonight.”

  “You are a rogue in disguise. There’s a great deal of passion in you. So much that I wonder about it all the time.”

  “At least I’m in your thoughts, Samantha. That is good to know with Prince Nicholas around.”

  “There should be no concern over him. He never could compare to you.”

  Her words were a balm to his ears. “We have to leave now.” He ushered her to the door.

  “I see we have found a new meaning to the word compromise.”

  Raven weighed well her aunt’s caution. Yes, Samantha could be too dangerous to love. Was there a warning in a liaison with a mysterious siren?

  They emerged in quiet and returned to the guests who remained. Lady Minerva arose and walked toward them. “Samantha, I will retire to my room for a rest. Will you rest too, or do you want to walk the gardens?”

  “Aunt Min, I will see you to your room and settle you in.” She gave her a light kiss. “I would like to sit on the patio with the others awhile. It will be a long evening, won’t it, Your Grace?”

  “Oh, yes, my lady, it will be a long night indeed.” His mind conjured a vision of them in awe of the stars from beneath the warm comforters in the boathouse. They would be naked in each other arms. He recalled his fantasy dream in the townhouse library in London. The thought caused his lower extremities to harden. He wanted to touch and explore every part of her body with his lips. The overwhelming desire became unendurable akin to the scorching of a thousand comets. His feral desire needed satisfaction. What man could resist? The treacherous body he occupied had a mind all its own.

  Why was it when in her company, his common sense vanished and in its place, passion escalated?

  The resurrected Christ could not help his anguish.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Upon Raven’s return to the manor house, Randall informed him of a message from the Prime Minister. They went to his study where one of his tenants and his son awaited him. Raven greeted them then offered the men a seat.

  “Thank you, Your Grace, but we will stand. You remember my son, Adam? He came into port yesterday on his ship.”

  “Hello, Adam. It’s good to see you safe and sound.”

  “Thank you, Your Grace. Home is always a good place for me.”

  His father prompted him, “Tell His Grace the story.”

  The young man took a deep breath. “I stopped at a pub for a tankard of ale. I heard someone at the next table mention your name and the estate. So I listened with great interest. The man offered ten pounds to anyone who would give a small package to someone in the kitchens. He said it contained a spice to improve the taste of beef. I got up and asked why the sailor wouldn’t deliver it himself. He smirked and said he must leave on a ship in the evening and didn’t have the time, but promised his cousin he would take care of the matter.”

  Raven listened in silence before he spoke, “Would you prefer to sit, Adam? I believe you and your father would be more comfortable, but continue.”

  They sat.

  “It seemed strange to me for a man dressed in unfamiliar sailor’s garb. Then he mentioned the name of the ship, and I knew it left the dock already bound for India.” He looked at his father, who nodded. “I told them I was on leave about to see my parents here, I could deliver the package and could use the money. He gave me a shifty look, but asked me how he would know if I did deliver it.”

  The young man appeared ill at ease, and Raven offered him a drink. He nodded and asked for water. He drank a large gulp from the glass. “I told him I would take half of the amount at once, and he could leave the balance with the innkeeper for when I returned in two days.”

  “Did he agree?” asked Raven.

  “Yes, he did. He gave me the package and told me to leave it outside the scullery door behind a potted plant.”

  “Did you do so?” he asked the young man.

  “No, Your Grace. It all seemed odd to me. When I came home, I spoke to my dah. We have the package.”

  Raven extended his hand, and Adam gave the pouch to him. The burlap sack contained a paper package with markings that read Conium Maculatum. The small dried white flowers sat on purple mottled stems. Every instinct told Raven not to touch the contents. Instead, he excused himself and went through the connecting door to a library shelf and removed a book entitled, Poisons of the World. He moved to the s
ection, which started with C and found conium maculatum listed as Poison Hemlock.

  Raven returned to them and motioned his majordomo to read the information. Randall blanched. “Your Grace…” he started to speak.

  Raven silenced him with his hand. “Adam, I seem to remember you wanted to study to become a Leftenant in His Majesty’s Navy. How have you progressed?”

  “I have to serve three more years before I can go further up the chain of command.”

  “I thank you for your information. Randall and I will handle the matter. You and your father are commended. I would like to support you in your endeavors to obtain a commission and will make inquiries on your behalf. It is not wise to go back to your ship for it might be dangerous and the louts might look for you. I will speak to the Admiralty’s Office and arrange for your new commission.”

  “Your Grace, I don’t know how to thank you.”

  “You already have, Adam. However, don’t mention this to anyone. It would require intense explanation.” Raven shook the young man’s hand as well as his father’s and gave them a casual smile. He took deep breaths and tried to ignore the abdomen turmoil in his entrails.

  “Randall, send a bottle of my best brandy home with these fine men and tallow for their candles, and of course, tea for his mother.” Raven added, “Come back to me when you have finished.”

  They left, and soon with the tasks accomplished, Randall returned. “Your Grace, I’m appalled. The book states the hemlock causes paralysis, convulsions, and eventual death.”

  “Yes, it’s not a pleasant way to die.” He rewrapped the package and secured it back into the cloth sack. “Ask Cook Phoebe to attend me.”

  In a few moments, Randall returned with the cook. Raven asked him to stay.

  “Cook Phoebe, sorry to interrupt you at such a busy time, but we need to ask if there is anyone new to the kitchen that you have not known?”