One Night with a Duke

by Sandra Masters

“Quite so, Raven. I want to make sure you’ll never forget me.”

  “As if I could.” He pulled her into his arms, kissed her hungrily. “You’re not a woman a man forgets. I would hope my nights are better occupied with you by my side.”

  His urgent kisses made her feel desirable—invincible, and totally female, a lady one moment and a formidable vixen the next. A seizing thrill snaked to her core. She was no longer vulnerable, but now sensed immense, dangerous power.

  She withdrew her lips from his. Emboldened, she met his gaze and tossed her head in dismissal. “You may hope all you want, but it does take two people to share a night.”

  Samantha pulled back from him. “You are a horrible man.”

  “I’ve been called worse. You’d do well to avoid insults and invectives unless you are prepared to pay for them.”

  “Are you threatening me with punishment?” Now her laugh taunted.

  Raven’s smile softened at the words when he moved toward her, pulled her to him, kissed her again with obvious passion. He liked the way Samantha returned his kisses with ardor, with a strong will, and now after last night, with artfulness.

  “You accept punishment too well. I fear you enjoy what I do.”

  “Only when you use your lips as a lethal weapon.” She tilted her head to him with a smile. He returned her zeal, kiss for kiss, heart to heart. It amazed him how the chemistry flared between them in a matter of moments. With Samantha, it became hot passion mixed with a good portion of anger. With him, it became passion mixed with a portion of regret at last night’s actions.

  “I hesitate to ask. Are you all right, Samantha? Last night was arduous for you. I thought about you most of the night and prayed I didn’t cause you undue pain,” he questioned with a slight tone of pride in his voice. “If the house were not crammed full of guests, I’d have come to your rooms to succor you. If only to hold you in my arms.”

  “You didn’t do anything that should concern you, Your Grace. I wouldn’t change one moment of last night with you even if it means you don’t want me.”

  “How can you speak that way after all we’ve just shared? You’re not a fool. Can you not see, feel, taste, and hear my desire for you?” He loved the bloom on her cheeks when she blushed.

  Her voice softened to a sultry whisper. Her fingers fidgeted. “Raven, this horse is most high-spirited as you advised me, but like most such creatures, it’s sometimes best to give a little more of the reins than hold them too tightly.”

  “Is this an attempt to tell me something, Samantha?” He led her to a fallen limb, where they could sit in comfort.

  “Yes. In different words, a long leash is preferable to a short one.” Her hand covered his. “I won’t have you brand me, Raven. I gave myself to you, but you don’t own me.”

  He took her hand, placed it on his cheek, and held it to him. “I will allow that one night does not make a relationship, but you, Samantha, have affected me in a way I dared not believe. I like the touch of you upon me, sorceress.”

  With deftness, he took her hand, removed her glove, and kissed the palm of her ever-so-soft and delicate hand. His tongue passed over it and lingered. Then he aligned his mouth to hers, and found her lips.

  “This is madness,” she exhaled. “Supreme madness that with a lick of your tongue it becomes a wicked, beautiful instrument of pleasure.”

  “You’re a woman awakened to bed sport. It’s a heady awareness. I caution care. Above all, don’t use it as a weapon to destroy me unless you are prepared to lose.” He observed the race of her breath and marveled how she managed to control her temper.

  She moved closer. “So, you now consider me a weapon. Oh, my, Your Grace, that was the most wonderful thing any man has ever said to me.”

  He held her gaze and her hand. “There are many loving words in store for you. I can’t fault your words or thoughts. I will say again, I’m as honorable as I know you are.”

  Samantha touched his arm. “This morning I woke up and realized my body betrayed me. I would not change anything because I…”

  “Go on, Samantha.”

  “No,” she raised a finger to her temple, saying, “Some things are better left unsaid.”

  “Do you have a headache?” He skimmed her forehead and ran his fingers down her cheek in a gentle, caring manner.

  “It will go away soon.” She waved his hand away. “It’s just the excitement of the day and the ride.”

  “You don’t know how much I wish we could be together for a while right now. Please know that.” This was the second time in his life where he used the word please, and both times he said the word to her. The first time was their chance encounter in the carriage. “There’s much I would do, to and for you.” His smile became wicked in its intent.

  “Such as?” she asked with mischief.

  “To begin with, there is a cottage at the edge of the woods which I use for solace most of the time. I would like for you to see it and be there with me so I can hold you in my arms and cover you with kisses everywhere my lips can reach. I’ve come to like the salty sweet taste of your skin and the sensation it arouses even when you are not in my arms. I long to see the joy of passion on your innocent face for it’s something I treasure. And always will. You are like no other.” He paused, then added, “And you are mine, whether you affirm it or not.”

  “Do you feel by your claiming me, it will make it so? What you do to me is insanity. I find myself in want of you to show me everything, to take me on a sensual journey of the discovery of my pent up passion.”

  He couldn’t help but notice her breath race as her breasts heaved.

  “What a pity we can’t see the cottage now, Raven. I used to wonder about your passion, but now it’s clear you have a wealth of it, and desire also. You torture me with your words.”

  “I’m tormented by you, too. I missed you last night. When you left, it was as if I were an empty vessel. We could have stayed nestled into each other, my arms on your body, to hold you close in an embrace of what we could be. Did you know that your hair fans out on the pillow, and I can smell the lemony essence of you? There’s also the scent of a woman who’s just had sex.” He grinned.

  “Sex, Raven? Such a shocking word, but yet I feel a tingle. I do believe your words are poetry composed solely for me. If you’re not careful, you’ll arouse the passion you describe.”

  “I would like to have you again, now for the entire world to see.” He smiled, but could not help himself because he realized he’d come to worship her.

  “That would be quite a spectacle. I’m not a voyeur, and public performances of that type are not for me,” she added.

  “Nor for me,” he answered. “There are moments when I wish I could be a much simpler man with simple wants and needs.”

  “You could never be a simple man or commonplace. You could never be dishonorable. You were born to rule and command.”

  “If that is so, I command you to kiss me.” Samantha opened her lips to him. He answered with a tongue that darted to the satin recess of her mouth and swallowed her moan.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  To Samantha’s sadness, Raven didn’t ask her to join him in the cottage. He withdrew his arms. “I know the woman you’ve become, but tell me about the girl.”

  “Do you have time to listen?”

  “I will make time because you are important to me, Samantha. I meet with the cartel investors in one hour.”

  “I lost my mother when I was eight years old, and Brandon turned seventeen. My father was handsome and kind. Mama was beautiful and loving. Most of all, my brother was patient with his freckled redheaded sister. Every morning Papa came down to breakfast, he gave Mama a peck and almost sang out a greeting.”

  Raven’s hand on hers comforted her.

  “He would call her the Light of his Life. Thus it occurred for every morning as long as I can remember. He would give me a kiss on the head, caress my cheek with his hand and take his place at the head of the table. Brando
n would get a nod and a Good morning, Son.”

  “How fortunate he was to have so much love surround him.”

  “Mama loved my father, and he adored her. Their affection for each other shone in their eyes. She loved me, too, and demonstrated it in many ways.”

  “Such as?” he moved, plucked a blade of grass, and massaged it into his hands before he dropped it to the ground.

  Samantha gave him an inquisitive look. He seemed mesmerized by her tale.

  “The nanny would come and fetch me for my lessons, and it became the same schedule almost every day. Papa liked to surprise me with presents. One day he bought me a custom made porcelain doll with red hair, like mine, which he found in a fancy store in London. I adored her and it went with me everywhere.”

  “Red haired doll, too. That’s most unusual. Go on.” Raven chuckled.

  Samantha blinked a moment, took a deep breath, and then opened her eyes to engage his. “Then one day, Mama didn’t appear at the breakfast table, nor did Papa. I remember the stark silence of nanny and our tutors, and the looks that passed between the adults when they hovered over us. I saw the tears on my nanny’s face trickle down her cheeks and knew something had gone wrong.”

  Samantha gazed away in recollection, and spoke in a whisper. “My father came into the room and asked the adults to be seated. His expression appeared so sad.” She cast her attention beyond Raven’s shoulder so he wouldn’t see her tears. “Papa came to me, took me in his arms, and placed one hand on Brandon’s shoulder. I asked about Mama. He told us the angels took her away, and now she slept with them. He said her horse threw her. She died of a broken neck and didn’t suffer. I cried pitifully. Tears filled his eyes, and Papa cried out, ‘I have lost the love of my life.’”

  Samantha’s eyes brimmed. “He was inconsolable and I, being too young to understand, didn’t know how to fill his void. I tried to be the Light of His Life and to make him laugh again, but it wasn’t the same for him.”

  Samantha noted he looked at his watch. “Raven, you will be late for your duties. I will finish the story later when we are alone. I will seek you out,” she whispered. “Or perhaps you will look for me?”

  “I can’t believe how much time has passed. Let’s gather the horses and walk toward the gazebo.” The structure was white and filigreed. There was a metal post where they tethered the horses. He ushered her up the steps. They sat together on one of the benches. “He said, “By the way, your horse’s name is Bounty. Tell me the rest,” said Raven.

  She continued her tale. “The funeral was horrific. Country services are different than in the city where only men attended an evening service. People I didn’t know filled the church. I looked at the draped casket, and it was then I realized she would not come back. There would be no more Mama to brush my hair, no sweet songs sung, and no tender kisses. I cried out for her. My other aunt hushed me and said I must be brave.”

  Raven handed her his handkerchief. “I didn’t mean to bring distress to you. You don’t have to go on.”

  “But I do, Raven. I haven’t told anyone about this, not even Aunt Min. I need closure, so you can better understand my rebellious nature and why I am so strong willed.” Samantha took a deep breath. “I know what it is to lose a mother and father as a young girl. Surely, it’s a part of the reason why I founded the Winston School for Ladies. Most of them are orphans, too. I know what it is to be alone.”

  Samantha dabbed at her eyes with Raven’s initialed linen cloth. “When we arrived home, I was angry because my mama went to the angels without me. I went to my room, took my favorite doll and smashed its head into pieces. My nanny came in and seemed to understand. She picked them up and placed them in a box. I screamed at her I never wanted to see the doll again as I vowed never to love anything or anyone, except for Papa and Brandon. It hurt too much. In particular, I hated the angels who took Mama away from me. I feared they would also take me.” She sniffled.

  “Growing up, Papa spoiled me with his affection. Three years later, he died from a heart attack.” She couldn’t control the sobs. “I was nobody’s little girl anymore.”

  Raven crushed her in his arms, held her tightly and rained kisses on her forehead. “Shush. No more. I can’t bear your tears.”

  But she couldn’t stop. “Another funeral was held, and then Brandon became the Earl of Medford at age twenty.”

  “Samantha, you are a marvel of a woman to have come through all that sadness and tragedy without your soul scarred forever. Now I understand your motives and your rebellious nature.”

  “Raven, I just want you to know who I used to be, and who I am now, no matter what happens with us in the future. Maybe one day I can be the Light of Someone’s Life. It would make me happy to release my demons and learn to love a decent and noble man and become his life love. Yes.” Her eyes snapped to his in an unspoken plea. “Perhaps someone like you?”

  He took her face to him and searched it. She accepted a most tender kiss from him. Neither sensual nor sexual, but it stunned her with its sweet concern.

  “I care too much about you, dear Samantha. You are not only a wanton, but you are a woman who has experienced many rites of passage. It’s my hope last night sealed us together. Please, my brave lady of the carriage, have faith in me.”

  She encircled her arms around his neck and laid her head on his shoulder. “I do,” she said. “Raven, you are a good and noble man. Please trust me, too.”

  He nodded and tilted her face to him; his lips kissed the furtive tear under her eye and dried it away. “Samantha, let’s make up our minds to be gay tonight and enjoy the ball and all it has to offer each other.”

  She nodded. They rose to mount their horses and galloped back to the manor house. Samantha loved his sensual kisses, but the sweet kiss he just bestowed showed her he cared. It was what she needed to soothe her doubts. It sent a strong, tender message he might come to love her one day after all. Her carefully constructed walls fell completely with that one kiss like the walls at Jericho.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  The guests reassembled in the drawing room. When Samantha entered with Lady Minerva, the ladies separated into small groups, busy in conversation with an air of excitement about the dinner and ball.

  Samantha averted her eyes from the portrait over the mantel and noted Raven hadn’t presented himself. Brandon joined her. Everyone but Raven convened in the dining room and partook of a light informal luncheon. His aunt said Raven could not be present, and was engaged in business affairs. His absence disappointed Samantha.

  Back in the drawing room as conversations continued, Samantha couldn’t help but stare at the portrait of Duchess Liana, since she bedded with that woman’s husband and felt a slight remorse. In truth, her jealousy of a dead woman was a worthless emotion.

  Overwrought, she said, “Please do excuse me. I wish to refresh myself.” She arose from her chair and exited the room.

  A light tap sounded on her door, Samantha opened it and saw her aunt. “Come in,” she whispered as she closed it. Words flew from her mouth, “I’m happy to see you. We haven’t spoken much. Are you content?” They were silly words so unlike her.

  Before Lady Minerva could answer, Samantha said. “My head is a muddle. There’s so much on my mind.” She continued to prattle. “Life is so different here than at our country home.”

  She walked to her dressing room armoire and chose a light teal muslin dress trimmed with tatted lace at the form-fitting bodice and sleeves. A ribbon of embroidered roses cinched under the breast line. She took it from the hangar and posed the dress in front of her in the Cheval mirror.

  “Do you like this, Aunt Min?” She moved sideways to show her.

  Lady Minerva engaged her niece’s eyes. “It’s pretty, child. I liked it when you ordered it from the modiste, and I like it still. You seem preoccupied today. Do you enjoy the pleasures of Ravensmere?”

  Samantha knew her aunt probed. “Yes.” She smiled. “The pleasures of Ravensmere are o
f great interest.” Her mind drifted to the other pleasures Raven offered. “As do the intrigues.”

  Samantha turned her head and looked into the mirror and twirled. “This has been an unexpected adventure for me. You know, Aunt Min, one reads about Raven and his accomplishments in the industrialization of his tenant farmers, but until you see everything in action, the man’s genius is hard to comprehend. He is much ahead of his time. I sometimes am in wonder of him.”

  “I’m told he has that effect on quite a few people.” She reached for Samantha’s hand. “I can see he has an influence on you, also.”

  “Does it show much? I have tried hard to be proper and respectful to him in public. Do you think that part of my outspokenness is because I’m so impressed with him I say what is on my mind because I want to sound intelligent?”

  She knelt at her aunt’s feet and rested her head on her lap as her aunt caressed her hair. “I’m no longer a virgin, Aunt Min.”

  All motion ceased. “I care for him so much it hurts me when I look up at her portrait in the drawing room. I don’t know how to compete with a dead woman.”

  Aunt Min resumed stroking Samantha’s head and spoke in a soft voice. “Child, can you not see how much you resemble her?”

  “No, Aunt Min. Say it’s not so.” Samantha raised her eyes, and wrinkled her forehead. “Could it be that is why he is attracted to me because I remind him of her?”

  She didn’t want to be a reincarnation of Liana. Samantha reviewed their evening in the boathouse last night. He made her feel well loved in a physical way, but could it be possible she reminded him of his late wife, and that was the only attraction?

  “Rise and prepare to dress. We can talk again later. You enjoyed a new circumstance, and perhaps you have experienced the sexual side for the first time in your life. What you had with Sir Percival became the infatuation of your youth, the way one falls in love with a first puppy. What you have now enjoyed is a more mature and much stronger emotion. Enjoy the pleasure for what it is, but don’t expect too much. In that way, you will not be disappointed. I do hope he took precautions.”