The Art 0f Pleasuring A Duke (Steamy Historical Regency Romance)

by Scarlett Osborne

  “Did your mother ever remarry?” Nathaniel asked, curiously.

  “No, Your Grace,” Miss Conolly said. “I used to think that she would eventually, but she never seemed interested, and she was able to support us by working as a seamstress in the village. She said that we were better off without a man to boss us around.”

  Nathaniel laughed out loud at this pronouncement, and Miss Conolly put a hand over her mouth, as though she were shocked by what she had just let slip.

  “My apologies, Your Grace.” she said, sounding quite embarrassed. “My mother can be a bit crude sometimes, and I am afraid that I may have picked up some of her bad habits.”

  She was looking down at her hands, folded neatly in her lap, biting on her lower lip. Nathaniel could see that her cheeks were flushed, and he gathered that she was feeling quite upset with herself for saying anything at all.

  “There is no need to apologize, Miss Conolly,” Nathaniel said, emphatically. “Your mother may very well have been right about that.”

  Miss Conolly looked up at him, wide-eyed. Her eyes searched his face, as though trying to determine whether he was being honest with her. He smiled at her, hoping to put her at her ease, and was relieved when he saw a smile spreading across her face as well.

  “Perhaps she was right,” Miss Conolly said, laughing quietly, “but she did always have a blunt way of expressing herself.”

  “Did?” Nathaniel asked. He was wondering if her use of the past tense might mean that her mother had died as well, but could not think of how to ask about this in a tactful way.

  “Does,” Miss Conolly corrected herself. “She does have a blunt way of expressing herself. My mother is alive and well, living in the village of Wiltshire, where I was born and raised, but I have not seen her for quite some time.”

  “I see,” Nathaniel said, thinking how strange it must be to move to London all by oneself, leaving family behind. “Is Wiltshire far away?”

  He had never heard of the village of Wiltshire, and so felt confident that it was not close to the Yanborough landholdings in the West Country, but other than that, it might have been anywhere in England.

  “The journey would take several hours on horseback, Your Grace,” Miss Conolly told him, “but I have never been much of a rider myself, so I usually travel on foot, which would take a full day.”

  “Oh, that is quite far,” Nathaniel said.

  “Yes, Your Grace,” Miss Conolly said. “Still, I am considering going to visit her in the interval before we start rehearsing for the next ballet in a few weeks.”

  Nathaniel could hardly blame her for wanting to visit her mother, but he felt strangely disappointed at the idea of her being so far away from London while he would remain in the city. Of course, he knew that he could say nothing of the kind.

  “I am sure that your mother would like to see you,” he said. Then, unable to stop himself, he asked, “How long would you plan to stay in Wiltshire?”

  Miss Conolly looked thoughtful for a moment. “Well, I am not sure, Your Grace. In truth, I only just thought of visiting her today, so I have not had any time to make plans.”

  “I see,” Nathaniel said. He thought that this likely meant that she would not leave London for the full interval before starting rehearsals, and he felt relieved.

  “I suppose that it would not make much sense to undertake such a long journey if I did not stay for several days,” Miss Conolly said, thoughtfully. Perhaps he was only imagining it, but Nathaniel thought that she looked at him rather longingly as she said, “On the other hand, I would not wish to be away from London for too long.”

  “Nor would I,” Nathaniel replied, the words leaving his lips before he had a chance to consider what he was saying.

  “Your Grace?” Miss Conolly said, looking at him with wide eyes. “What do you mean?”

  “I…” Nathaniel began, silently cursing himself for being so careless with his words. “I only meant that…you seem to enjoy living in London, and I imagine that returning to a small village might seem quite dull after being in town for so long.”

  “Oh,” Miss Conolly said, sounding strangely disappointed. “Yes, I suppose that is true. But perhaps the quiet of the village will be just what I need before beginning rehearsals.”

  Nathaniel considered this for a moment. He wondered whether he had offended her by suggesting that life in the village might seem boring after being in London.

  Or did she hope that I meant that I wanted her to remain in town?

  Nathaniel decided that now was not the time for caution. “Is there an inn in Wiltshire?” he asked.

  “What?” Miss Conolly asked, sounding thoroughly confused by the question.

  “An inn. Is there an inn in Wiltshire for visitors?” he asked again.

  “Yes, Your Grace, it is only a small inn, but I am told it is comfortable enough.” Miss Conolly was gazing at him intently, as though wondering why he could possibly be asking such a question.

  “If you would like, I would be most happy to lend you the use of my carriage and coachman for the journey. I think you would be able to get to Wiltshire in only a few hours then, and you could stay for just a few days, if you like. The coachman could stay at the inn, so you would not need to worry about him.”

  Miss Conolly looked positively shocked at this offer, and did not speak for nearly a minute. She seemed to be considering her words very carefully when she finally did speak.

  “Your Grace,” she said. “Your offer is exceptionally generous, and I am truly grateful to you for making it.”

  “You are very welcome.” Nathaniel said, beaming at her.

  “But,” Miss Conolly said, her voice quiet, but firm. “I must ask, Your Grace, what would you expect in return?”

  “What do you mean?” Nathaniel asked. Did she think that he wanted her to pay for the use of the carriage?

  “I mean,” she said, her voice even quieter now, so that he needed to lean in slightly to hear her over the crackling of the fireplace, “that gentlemen of your position do not usually offer the use of their carriage to anyone but their mistress.”

  “Ah,” Nathaniel said, a sinking feeling in his stomach. “I must apologize, Miss Conolly, if I have done anything to make you think that I was suggesting such an arrangement. You were perfectly clear when you told me that you would not consent to be my mistress, and I meant it when I said that it was not my intention to form an illicit connection with you.”

  “Of course, Your Grace,” Miss Conolly said, her cheeks flushing prettily once again. “I should not have assumed that you meant anything of the sort. Please accept my apology. I am not used to being called upon by members of the aristocracy.”

  “There is no need to apologize, Miss Conolly,” Nathaniel said, smiling at her. “No need at all. I am the one who ought to beg forgiveness, for I have obviously made you uncomfortable, and that is the last thing that I wanted to do.”

  Miss Conolly was smiling at him, looking much more comfortable now than she had done before. “Thank you, Your Grace. You do not need to apologize. It was a very generous offer and it is much appreciated. This was just a simple misunderstanding.”

  “Well, I am relieved that we were able to clear it up so easily,” Nathaniel said, breathing more easily now. “And the offer still stands, with no repayment of any kind needed.”

  “Are you quite sure, Your Grace?” Miss Conolly asked, sounding hopeful now.

  “I am quite sure,” Nathaniel promised her, truthfully. “I would not offer if I was not.”

  Nathaniel smiled warmly at Miss Conolly, hoping that she would agree to his offer. He had hoped, selfishly, that she might remain in London, but it was clear that she wished to visit her mother, and he wished to make her happy above all else.

  “Oh, all right then,” Miss Conolly said, a slight catch in her voice, as though she were overwhelmed with some emotion she could not articulate.

  Chapter 22

  Anna could hardly believe that the D
uke of Yanborough had come to call on her. However, the pleasant surprise of his visit was as nothing compared to the shock of his offer to loan her the use of his carriage. Even after he had left, with a promise to return the following day in order to work out the details of her journey, she thought that perhaps she had only dreamed that he would do such a thing for her.

  After agreeing to accept his offer, the remainder of her visit with the Duke had been something of a blur. Anna remembered walking him to the door to bid him farewell. He had taken her hand in his and kissed the back of it before setting off. An hour later, she imagined that she could still feel his soft lips on her skin.

  There was no use in denying that she wanted those lips to kiss more than just the back of her hand. The thought of feeling them against her own mouth, or gliding gently over her throat, or even travelling lower down her body…

  I must get ahold of myself. If I continue to think like this I will be ruined.

  “The Duke of Yanborough seems to be quite fond of you,” Mrs. Hughes said later that day as she and Anna stood in the kitchen, chopping onions side by side.

  Anna focused on the knife in her hand, and the onion in front of her, willing herself not to blush at these words.

  “What do you mean, Mrs. Hughes?” she asked, trying to sound innocent.

  “Well, his offer to lend you the use of his carriage was very generous, as you told him yourself,” Mrs. Hughes said, a note of amusement in her voice.

  “Yes, it was. I suppose he is a very generous sort of person,” Anna said, working hard to keep her voice casual. “I admit that I know very little of the ways of aristocrats. Perhaps they often make offers such as this. I suppose it must be easy to be generous when you have so much more than you need.”

  “Perhaps,” Mrs. Hughes said, though her tone suggested that she doubted this very much.

  “In any case, I do appreciate the offer, and I did ask him quite clearly what he might expect of me in return,” Anna said. “I am not sure if you heard that portion of the conversation?”

  “Well, I was not listening very closely, as I did not want to intrude, but I gathered that you had discussed it, dear. And you must have been satisfied with his response if you accepted the offer,” Mrs. Hughes said. Anna watched her landlady closely as she continued to chop onions, trying to read her opinion.

  “Do you think it was wrong of me to accept his offer?” Anna asked after a moment, “Even though he assured me that he would expect nothing in return?”

  “Well now,” Mrs. Hughes said, wiping her large hands on her apron and looking up from her work. “That really is not for me to say, is it?”

  “Hmm…” Anna said, thoughtfully, “I suppose that in the end it is not, but I am curious to know your opinion, Mrs. Hughes, and I do wish that you would tell me.”

  Mrs. Hughes paused for a moment before speaking, as though choosing her words very carefully. “As I say, it is not for me to tell you what you ought to do. However, since you asked for my opinion, I will give it to you.”

  “Thank you,” Anna said, turning to face Mrs. Hughes directly as their conversation continued.

  “The Duke of Yanborough seems like an honorable sort of gentleman, though I must admit that I know even less of aristocrats than you do,” Mrs. Hughes began. “If he says that he expects nothing in return from you, then I think it is likely that he is telling the truth.”

  Anna breathed a sigh of relief at this. Mrs. Hughes might know very little about the ways of aristocrats, but she was a woman on her own in the world, and she had survived by being smart and strong. Anna trusted her landlady’s instincts, and felt that if Mrs. Hughes thought the Duke was honorable, it was probably true.

  Anna considered all of this as she prepared for bed that evening. The Duke of Yanborough had said that he would be back tomorrow to discuss the details of her journey to Wiltshire. They had a pleasant visit today and there was no reason to believe they would not have a pleasant one again tomorrow.

  Will he continue to call upon me after the arrangement with the carriage is complete? What will it mean if he does?

  Anna had intended to write a letter to her mother informing her of her intention to visit, but she soon found that she could do nothing more than lie down on her bed and let her many thoughts swirl around in her mind. Practical considerations were soon intermixed with images of the Duke’s handsome face, which she tried to ignore.

  After a time, finding it impossible to banish thoughts of the Duke, Anna decided that it would be easier not to fight them any longer. She allowed herself to picture him, standing before her, and examined every inch of his form with her mind’s eye. The warmth that she had earlier imagined spreading from his hands to her own soon overtook her whole body. She felt it most profoundly in her belly and between her legs, but it radiated outward, and no part of her body was left cold.

  She imagined the Duke’s soft lips on her skin, leaving a trail of kisses over every inch of her body. Without realizing what she was doing, Anna began to run her fingertips very gently over her own skin, sending shivers through her body. After a moment of this, she gasped and sat bolt upright.

  I must not allow myself to wander any further down this path.

  * * *

  Anna had arranged to meet her friend Bridget for a walk in the park near the boarding house the following morning. She pulled a heavy, knitted shawl that her mother had made for her around her shoulders and set off into the chilly morning air, feeling optimistic about the day.

  Bridget was already at the park when Anna arrived, and she stood at the edge of a pond, watching the morning sun reflected on the water’s smooth surface.

  “Good morning, Bridget,” Anna said, striding briskly toward her friend.

  “Good morning, Anna.”

  The pair set off on their walk, keeping close to the edge of the pond, where they would be warmed by the direct sunlight.

  “Have you been enjoying your time off from the ballet?” Bridget asked.

  “I have,” Anna said, “although something quite strange has happened.”

  “What is that?” Bridget asked, sounding curious.

  “Well, you are aware that I met the Duke of Yanborough at the party after closing night,” Anna began.

  “Yes, I saw that you danced with him,” Bridget said, and it seemed that she was giving Anna a rather searching look as she said this.

  “I did.” Anna continued, “And we spoke about the ballet a bit, and he asked if he might call upon me the following day.”

  “And what did you say?” Bridget sounded highly excited by this turn of events.

  “I said yes,” Anna said, simply. “And he did come to call upon me yesterday.”

  Anna told Bridget about the visit she had with the Duke as they continued their walk around the pond. Bridget, for her part, listened with great interest. She said very little until Anna mentioned the arrangement she had made with the Duke to borrow his carriage.

  “He offered you the use of his carriage?” Bridget asked, sounding shocked. “His personal carriage?”

  “He did. And I asked him what he might expect from me in return, and he said that he would not expect anything from me.”

  “That is exceptionally generous of him. What did you say?”

  “I agreed,” Anna said simply. “Do you think I ought not to have?”

  “Well, as to that, I cannot say,” Bridget said. “If he says that he expects nothing in return from you, then I suppose it is a simple question of whether or not you believe him.”

  Anna considered this for a moment as they continued to walk. “I think that I do believe him,” she said after a moment. “Though I know that may sound foolish since I barely know him.”

  “I do not think that it sounds foolish, but if you are concerned, perhaps I could act as chaperone for a future visit,” Bridget offered. “I consider myself a good judge of character, and I can tell you whether I believe him to be trustworthy.”

  “Oh Bridget, w
ould you?” Anna asked, feeling relieved. “I do trust your judgement.”

  Having agreed upon this, they continued to walk in companionable silence for a time, until Bridget spoke once more.

  “Are you certain that you do not wish to be the Duke of Yanborough’s mistress, Anna?”

  “Bridget.” Anna said, shocked to be asked such a question. She could feel her face flushing with embarrassment at the thought.