She laughed at his nonsense. ‘I rather think that my dog rescued himself in the end. He would have broken out of his kennel and found his way here anyway.’
‘You are an ungrateful baggage.’ His expression was solemn but his eyes were dancing. ‘Here was I all puffed up with my own importance and you have put me firmly in my place. I am Rochester – I expect to be treated with the utmost deference at all times.’
She jumped to her feet and dipped in the lowest curtsy she could manage without tipping onto her nose. ‘Forgive me, your grace, I forget myself.’
‘Sit down, there’s something else we need to discuss.’
She did as instructed and then drained a second, or perhaps it was a third, glass of champagne. She was really feeling quite wonderful, as if she could dance without music. ‘I know exactly what you wish to speak of. Puppies. If Sydney was intent on escaping the entire time he was there then I think it unlikely he would have been interested in servicing a bitch.’ Should she have spoken so frankly on such a subject?
She looked round to see if there was more to drink. There was a bottle half-empty on a table and she reached out for it. ‘No more, sweetheart, you’re already in your cups. I think it would be best if you retired to sleep it off.’
‘I don’t want to go to bed. I wish to be here and converse with you.’
‘Then I shall make the decision for you.’ Without asking her permission he scooped her up from the seat and marched through the house and took the stairs at speed.
‘Which door is your apartment, Miss Armitage?’
Being held so close to him, inhaling his unique masculine aroma, was having a strange effect on her. He really was the most wonderful, the most handsome, the most perfect gentleman she’d ever had the good fortune to meet.
Her apartment was at the end of the passageway. The first door led to her sitting room, the second to her bedchamber. ‘Down there, the door nearest to the window.’
Her heart was thudding so loudly she thought he might hear it. What would his reaction be when he discovered the deception? He shouldered his way in, was unbothered by finding himself in so intimate a space, and strode across and dumped her on her bed.
‘Sleep, little one, you will feel better in the morning.’ He smiled down at her and then was gone.
She pushed herself onto her elbows and stared in bewilderment at the closed door. Did he not think her sufficiently attractive to even give her the smallest of kisses? She flopped down. Maybe he was right and she would feel better after a sleep.
When she opened her eyes again the room was dark and she was still in her gown. Her mouth was dry, her head thumped unpleasantly but apart from that she felt perfectly well. There was sufficient moonlight coming in through the open curtains for her to find her slippers, do what was necessary behind the screen, and then go in search of something to eat and drink.
She paused outside the door. Although she could see while still adjacent to the window when she progressed towards the gallery it would be otherwise. The wall sconces had been doused. The house was silent. What she needed was a candle to light her way.
She retraced her steps and picked up the candlestick that always sat on the mantelshelf. Now she needed to find a tinderbox. She had no idea where these were kept in this house and as the fires were not lit anywhere there was little hope of finding an ember she could use.
Her stomach rumbled loudly. She had two choices. One – go back to bed hungry and thirsty and wait until dawn. Two – go in search of sustenance in the darkness and hope she didn’t come to grief.
As she’d been too upset to eat anything at all yesterday, she was prepared to take the risk in order to find something to fill her growling stomach. If she had been at the home where she’d grown up she was certain she could wander around it in pitch darkness without falling over anything. However, as she’d only been living here for so short a time she was as yet unfamiliar with the layout.
There was little point in carrying a candle that was unlit so she replaced it on the mantelshelf. Negotiating the passageway was relatively simple as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. It was eerie standing alone in the gallery in the silent house.
She squeaked in shock as something moved in the shadows. Then she laughed out loud. ‘Sydney, good boy, what are you doing inside? They must have forgotten to let you out. You can take me to the kitchen – I’m sure that you can travel perfectly well in the darkness by using your nose instead of your eyes.’
She grabbed hold of the long hair at the back of his head and then trusted him to guide her safely. After walking for some time she realised he wasn’t taking her to the main staircase but to the guest stairs at the rear of the house. How did the dog know where these were situated as this was the first time he’d ever been in the house?
She was completely disorientated, had no idea where she was. Sydney stopped and scratched at a door. ‘What’s wrong? Where are we?’
The door opened and standing, framed in the moonlight, was the duke. ‘Good God, Lucy, what the devil were you thinking to be knocking on my door in the middle of the night?’
‘I didn’t knock – Sydney did. He brought me here whilst I thought he was taking me downstairs so I could get something to eat. How could I possibly know that you were still in the house?’
He closed the door in her face and spoke from behind it. ‘Remain where you are, idiot girl, I’ll be dressed and with you in a moment. Unlike you, I’ve got a tinderbox to hand.’
Why had he closed the door so abruptly? Rather too late to worry about what she might see, or not see, of his person. He had been wearing his shirt, but his legs had been bare and his hair tousled in a romantical way.
The dog’s tail was thumping rhythmically against the wall. ‘Clever boy, to bring me here. His grace has got a candle so we can now see our way to the kitchen.’
The door opened and the duke was this time framed by candlelight. ‘If you give me the candle, your grace, I’m quite capable of finding my way to the kitchen without your assistance.’
‘I’ve no intention of allowing you to wander about the place on your own. Anyway, I, like yourself, imbibed far too much last night which is why, when offered a bed for the night, I accepted with alacrity. A pot of strong coffee is exactly what I would like.’
They were conversing together as if it was the most normal thing in the world to be alone at midnight in a sleeping house. The dog padded between them and he held the candle aloft.
‘Another thing, your grace …’
‘My name is Edwin. Please call me by my name. I intend to call you Lucy, whether you do so or not.’
She giggled. ‘If I called you by your given name people might get the wrong idea – no – I shall rephrase that. Everyone would think that we are betrothed for me to be allowed to take such liberties.’
He stopped and held the candle so she could see his face and he could see hers. ‘Exactly so, sweetheart. Exactly so.’ He then continued laughing softly to himself as if nothing of any moment had been said between them.
Her feet were somehow glued to the floor whilst he continued walking. The dog hesitated between them and whined, unsure whether he should stop with her or follow his new friend. She picked up her skirts and raced after the wretched man.
‘I am not engaged to you, sir, and have no intention of being so whatever you might think on the subject. You told me quite clearly that you will one day marry a widow with children in order to secure your name – I told you that I have no inclination to marry anyone and especially not a dictatorial, toplofty, aristocrat like yourself.’
Instead of being offended as she’d hoped, he laughed again. ‘I have changed my mind and decided that you will make me an excellent duchess. I would prefer, naturally, that you were more biddable and less given to wild fancies but, on the whole, I think you will do very well. Good heavens, there cannot be many lovely young ladies of impeccable pedigree who are also experienced in the raising of children.’
; As always, she wasn’t sure if she should be affronted or pleased by his contradictory comments. He gave her no time to answer as he continued as if she wasn’t hopping from one foot to the other desperate to have her say on the subject whilst he strolled on with his back to her.
‘I shall be speaking to your father this morning. Expect to receive my formal offer very soon.’
How dare he walk away as if she was a silly schoolgirl? She lost her temper and lashed out – not with her hand but with her foot – and kicked him squarely in the derrière.
Chapter Nine
Edwin was congratulating himself on the light-hearted way he had introduced the subject of marrying his beloved girl when something hard hit him in the posterior and he flew forward sending the candlestick and candle arcing into the air.
He landed on his face and the dog thought this a great lark and jumped on top of him. The lack of light plunged the corridor into darkness and what happened next was inevitable. Lucy stumbled over him and she too went headlong.
In the melee of arms and legs, both canine and human, things were quite chaotic. ‘Be still, Lucy. You are making things so much worse by writhing about. Sydney, get off and, sit.’ His sharp commands had the desired effect. The dog removed himself and she lay quiet.
‘Sweetheart, are you hurt? God knows what that foolish dog was thinking to charge into me like that…’
There was a faint gulp and then in a small voice she confessed to having been the instigator of the disaster. ‘I am so sorry, your… Edwin, I shouldn’t have kicked you like that. But you were so infuriating I couldn’t restrain myself.’
He untangled himself, stood up and pulled her up with him before answering this extraordinary statement. ‘Why in God’s name did you feel so angry you needed to physically attack me?’
‘I don’t like being forced to do things. You blithely assumed that because you are who you are everything you want will fall into place. It won’t. You promised me you would say nothing to my father as he would expect me to marry you. Are you going to break your vow?’
‘I thought things were different between us now. I refuse to discuss something so important in pitch darkness. Here, take my hand, my night vision is excellent, I can see the banisters ahead and can lead you safely downstairs.’
For a moment he thought she was going to refuse but then she moved closer and he felt her breath on his neck and almost lost control. Then her hand slipped into his, so small, but not soft like Sarah’s had been.
He bustled her through the house and into the servants’ quarters. He pushed open the door to the kitchen and the faint glow from the huge, modern range was more than enough for them to move about safely.
‘Sit at the table, out of the way, whilst I get some candles alight.’
He didn’t wait to see if she obeyed, no one gainsaid him when he was in this sort of mood. Once there was light he set about riddling the range. Soon there was sufficient heat to put on the kettle. Only then did he turn to look at the girl he loved so much.
She was slumped across the table, her head in her hands, and her shoulders were shaking. She was crying and it was his fault. He was a brute, a monster, to reduce his beloved to tears. He was across the room and leaning down to comfort her, then stopped.
‘Tell me, Miss Armitage, what it is that you find so amusing about the situation?’
She looked up, tears of laughter rolling down her cheeks, and shook her head helplessly.
‘The fact that you knocked me from my feet amuses you? Or perhaps you find the idea of marrying me something to laugh about?’ His tone was mild but her giggles ceased instantly. Her eyes widened as she finally grasped just how angry he was.
‘I’m in two minds to put you over my knee…’
‘Oh, please don’t, Sydney would tear you limb from limb if you laid a hand on me and I would so like to keep you in one piece.’
This was hardly the response he’d expected – but then she was unique which was why he loved her so. He gripped the back of her chair and lifted her away from the table. Before she could protest he reached down and picked her up, holding every inch of her hard against him.
‘Well then, do you think he will object if I kiss you instead?’
Again, she dumbfounded him. Her hands slid around his neck and then buried themselves in his hair. She leaned into his embrace. ‘I certainly won’t object, your grace, and my dog can go hang.’
A highly satisfactory five minutes later they were interrupted by the singing kettle. With considerable reluctance he put her down. ‘Either you’re a flighty, unprincipled, hoyden or I wasn’t mistaken and you do reciprocate my feelings.’
‘I really didn’t want to fall in love with you, Edwin, but somehow it has happened. We have both been struck down with this curious affliction. I really don’t think this will end well for either of us.’
The kettle was making such a racket, almost leaping off the trivet, that he grabbed a pot cloth and removed it. ‘If I find the makings for coffee, can you fix us something to eat?’
Half an hour later they were sitting opposite each other at the large central table happily munching slices of beef and oyster pie and drinking the dark, bitter brew that they both loved so much. The dog had whined to go out and with some relief he’d watched the animal as he loped into the darkness.
‘What did you mean, sweetheart, that us inexplicably falling in love with each other will not end well?’
‘I have been given too much freedom all my life to do as I please, I don’t take kindly to being restricted, made to follow convention. I would make you a poor duchess, you would be better finding someone from your own strata of society who knows her place and is happy to do as she’s told.’
‘Indeed, my love, I could find someone exactly as you describe, only I should be bored within a week. I don’t give a damn about etiquette and convention. I intend to marry you and I guarantee you will not regret it.’
Her cheeks flushed and she looked at him squarely. She was about to say something quite outrageous and he hoped he could listen with equanimity and not overreact.
‘In which case I’ve another suggestion. I could become your mistress, that way we could both have what we want. You can…’
She got no further as he slammed his hands down on the table making the plates and crockery jump. He was on his feet and towering over her.
‘I have misunderstood you. I thought you an innocent, well brought up young lady, but it seems that I am quite mistaken in the matter. To offer yourself to me in that way indicates that you are impure. I don’t settle for soiled goods.’
He turned away, a bitter taste in his mouth, his heart broken by her casual suggestion that they become lovers as if she was a light-skirt looking for business. Things fell into place. He should have been suspicious when she hadn’t been shocked by seeing him naked. Also, had she not discussed the possibility of her dog siring puppies in a most unladylike way.
Then only a moment ago instead of asking to be released at once she had encouraged him to take liberties with her person. An innocent girl would not have done any of those things. How could he have not seen this before giving his heart to someone he could never marry?
*
Lucy clapped her hand over her mouth and flew to the door. She just managed to get to the shrubbery before casting up her accounts in a most horrible fashion. She had made the suggestion in jest – highly inappropriate, but she’d thought he knew her better.
Slowly she pushed herself away from the trees she’d been leaning against. How could she have so misjudged his character? She was better off without him. He was an arrogant aristocrat to his very core.
To have said such things to her, to have believed for an instant that she was… she was so shocked by his words she couldn’t even frame the idea in her head. Until he had kissed her so passionately, she’d had no experience of any kind.
It was he that should be ashamed of himself for taking callous advantage of her innocence, f
or displaying his unclothed body in front of her – not once, but twice. Not to mention the first time they’d met when he might as well have been without clothes.
At no time had he treated her with the respect she deserved. Even if he came back with a humble apology for his appalling accusation, she could never forgive him. She prayed he had the courtesy to remove himself at once and that she’d never have the misfortune to meet him face-to-face again.
To this end she headed for the stable block. She rang the bell for attention and two grooms tumbled down the steps from the loft in which they slept.
‘His grace will be leaving immediately. Get his coachman up. I apologise for waking you in the middle of the night, but I wish you to have his carriage ready. Bring it around to the front.’
Satisfied they would have this simple task completed quickly despite the fact that they were obliged to do it by moonlight, she headed back to the kitchen. There were several candles in the scullery attached to a small metal saucer especially for carrying up and down stairs.
Moments later she had lit one and was on her way. She stopped outside the duke’s door. ‘Your carriage is waiting at the front. You will get in it and leave here immediately.’
She didn’t wait for an answer, wasn’t strong enough to face him, and walked away with her heart in pieces. She’d turned the corner when she heard his door open and then his footsteps clattered on the uncarpeted staircase.
Somehow, she made her way back to her room, removed her clothes and fell into bed. She couldn’t cry – she was too angry for that. Grief for what she had lost would come later. Three weeks ago her family had been happy in Hampshire, she’d been content to continue as a spinster, never have her own children, but coming here had changed everything.
Falling in love was an affliction, an illness, and like any other one could recover from it if one wished to do so. One thing was quite certain, never again would she put her heart at risk. Until they were home she would be very careful to ride only within the estate, avoid any visits to the town and certainly not go anywhere near the beach.
A Solitary Duke Page 8
