Undressed to Impress the Duke : A Steamy Historical Regency Romance Novel

by Scarlett Osborne

  Lord Jack smiled at her, his eyes softening. She smiled back, her cheeks warming.

  “My Lord?” she murmured.

  “How are you enjoying your visit to Myrtlegrove Manor, My Lady?” he asked. Lord Jack was very dashing. She hadn’t met him before, though she had seen him, at a ball in London. He was a very good dancer, and had been the very center of attention.

  “Very much, My Lord. Thank you for asking,” she murmured. He had never spoken to her before, not just the two of them like this. Though, as her future brother-in-law, she should get to know him.

  She considered, for a moment, what it might be like to dance with him. He would hold her close, sweeping her about. His sultry eyes on hers, just like he was doing that moment.

  “And how do you find my Brother?” he asked. Julia wondered why he was asking. It seemed rather uncouth.

  “He’s been very kind and attentive toward me,” she said.

  “That’s what he would like for you to think.” He was leaning in toward her, his breath warm against her cheek.

  “Oh?” She glanced around. They were within earshot of most of the company. Though no one was paying any attention to them. She looked at Lord Ayles.

  “Has he told you nothing of his past?” he went on.

  Julia shook her head. She knew that she was blushing. Her heart was racing. He was far enough away to be proper, yet his closeness was tantalizing. It was just like being at a ball in London. He would be the gentleman that she would want to pay her attention.

  “Not a thing, My Lord.” He tutted, shaking his head. She could smell his cologne—it was spicy, masculine. Her heart raced, as she felt something that she never had before.

  Good Heavens! What if someone overhears this conversation?

  “He’s got a history, my Brother,” he said in an undertone. “He was to be engaged to a Lady already. Her father changed his mind, once he found out the truth about Aaron.”

  “What truth?” she whispered, horrified.

  “My Brother isn’t the upstanding Duke that he pretends to be, My Lady.”

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Because no one else will.” The way that he said it, solemn as a promise, made Julia question all that she knew about the Duke of Durnsott.

  She looked into his blue eyes, which were so similar to his brother’s. He took a sip from his glass. His face was grim.

  “I have no reason to lie to you, My Lady. If you are to wed, then you should know the Duke that you will be binding your life to.”

  She swallowed. “Thank you for telling me.” Julia wasn’t sure what to believe. A tiny seed of doubt had taken root within her. How could her parents not know?

  A slow smile spread across his handsome face. “I can see that you don’t believe me, My Lady. You’ll see though. I would never lie to you.” He cleared this throat. “Excuse me, My Lady.” He bowed as he moved away from her.

  Julia’s mind was racing. He had told her much, and yet not quite enough. She wondered what it was that he could be talking about. Did the Duke have a colorful past that she knew nothing about? This was what her parents wanted. She had always been a good daughter—dutiful. She knew that she would have to watch the Duke of Durnsott. See for herself if what his brother claimed was true.

  Chapter 11

  The next day, Lady Julia, Lady Whitecier, and the Dowager Duchess all went to visit the school for orphaned girls that the Dowager Duchess had begun in town. Eleanor finished her chores, then slipped down to the stables, to see how Pansy fared after throwing her shoe the day before.

  “Eleanor!” Martin greeted her. He smiled brightly. There was hay in his hair. “What brings you down here?”

  “I came to see how Pansy is doing,” she said.

  “Right this way.” He motioned for her to follow him. He walked very fast, talking the whole way. “She’s well, as you can see.” They both stopped in front of Pansy’s stall. She stood inside. “Had the farrier out yesterday. He made sure that she was in ship-shape condition before he left. No damage was done, luckily.”

  “Good.” Eleanor held out her hand, for Pansy to smell. The horse recognized her, nudging at her. Eleanor scratched her on the forehead. Pansy was a good horse. She was calm, for the most part. Steady.

  “Feel free to wander,” Martin said, rubbing his hands together. “I’ve got to go and oil the harnesses, or else the Dowager Duchess will have my hide.”

  “Don’t let me keep you.”

  Martin waved to her, then bustled off. Eleanor ran her hand over Pansy’s neck. She offered her the apple she’d brought as a treat. The horse took it with her long teeth, munching happily.

  Eleanor began to walk down the stalls, peering inside. The horses within were calm, whickering softly. She decided to go and see how the foals were doing. They were in the pasture, with their mothers. Eleanor opened the gate, letting herself inside. She fastened it securely after her.

  Her pockets were filled with apples, which she had snuck from the servants’ dining room. No one had been paying her any mind. At Clayriver Manor, Eleanor was well-known by everyone. She had never been as invisible as she was at Myrtlegrove Manor. Although, at Clayriver, Olivia always let her take apples to the stables. She knew how much Eleanor loved the horses.

  The foals looked at her curiously. She walked toward them, holding out her hands. The others shied away, going to stand next to their mothers, who were grazing. There was one brave foal who walked right up to Eleanor. He was a dark bay, with a black nose and legs, and a white star on his forehead. She held out her hand, letting him snuffle at her palms. He butted at her with his head.

  “You’re just like me,” she whispered to him. “I have a star-shaped birthmark, too.” It was on her shoulder. It was strawberry-colored, with five points. Olivia jokingly called it her witch mark.

  Eleanor always laughed at that. If anyone was secretly a witch, it was Olivia, who seemed to know more about herbs and charms than anyone that Eleanor had ever met.

  Eleanor kept her eyes on the foal, but she knew that the others were watching closely. She scratched his forehead. He nudged his face toward her. His eyes were dark and sweet, fringed generously with long black lashes. The others slowly came toward her. She held out her hands for them to smell, then rewarded their bravery with scratches on their foreheads. Finding herself surrounded, she laughed. There was a midnight black one, as well as a rust-colored chestnut, and one dapple gray.

  Eleanor moved toward them, and they all scattered. They all danced back, then feinted forward. She realized with absolute joy that they were playing with her. She gasped, then feinted to the left, and the bay foal came barreling toward her. She quickly dodged him, laughing when he sprang back. She then ran toward him, and he went bucking across the corral.

  “Oh, I see how it is,” she said, as he stood staunchly beside his mother. She put her hands on her hips. The others dashed around her running in circles. As they passed by, she made as if to catch them. She kept this up, until she was breathing heavily.

  When she heard the soft, masculine laugh behind her, she turned around, horrified that she’d been caught.

  Aaron hadn’t meant to give himself away. He’d come out to the stables, as he usually did. He had come upon Eleanor by chance. She seemed to belong there, with the horses. He had only come upon few others who were so in tune with the animals.

  He watched as her shoulders tensed. She turned around slowly to face him. She dropped a curtsy immediately. Her gaze lowered, so that her long lashes brushed her cheeks.

  “I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he said quickly. He held out his hands, as if to calm her.

  “I’m not frightened, Your Grace,” she replied, her eyes snapping up. He found himself speechless before her. Her lashes were long and dark, and Aaron didn’t know how to read the look that she gave him.

  He entered the paddock, offering her a carrot. She accepted it, holding it out to the foal nearest, who took it, running away. They bot
h laughed.

  Aaron knew how interactions such as these ended. He knew how it would open Eleanor up to scorn from others. But he couldn’t keep himself away from her. She was the addiction that he’d never known about.

  “Would you like to see Iseult?” he asked, wanting to prolong the moment.

  “All right.”

  He wanted to offer her his arm, like he would a lady. He didn’t know what she would make of it. He kept his arms at his sides, making fists with his hands.

  “Were you watching me for long, Your Grace?” she asked.

  “Not very,” he murmured. But long enough. He had heard her tell the foal that she, too, had a star birthmark. He stored the little bit of information away.

  Aaron wondered what she was thinking. He had so much that he wanted to know about her. He kept his eyes on the ground, which was strewn with straw. They stopped by Iseult’s stall.

  The mare looked at them with her dark eyes as Aaron held open the stall door for Eleanor. Once they were inside, he closed the door. Eleanor held out her hand, palm up, and Iseult nudged it with her nose. Eleanor pulled an apple from her apron pocket, offering it to Iseult, which she took, munching on it slowly.

  “She’s a sweet horse,” Eleanor murmured, smoothing her palm over Iseult’s withers.

  “Yes. Her evenness of temper will be a good trait in her offspring,” he said. “I’m hoping that it will counterbalance Tristan’s hot-headedness.” The stallion was the mare’s opposite entirely.

  “Her foals will be beautiful, Your Grace.”

  “Indeed.”

  Here, as they were, they were out of sight of anyone. He knew that this should not be. He should never be alone with any young woman.

  She’s the only young woman I’ve ever wanted to be alone with.

  Eleanor seemed not to notice his gaze on her. She continued smoothing her hand over Iseult’s neck, trailing her fingers through the mare’s thick black mane. Aaron studied the way that Eleanor tilted her head to the side. He considered how high her cheekbones were, and how he wanted to trail kisses along them.

  Eleanor could feel him, close to her. She could smell his expensive cologne, the scent of his skin. She turned toward him. They were close, in the small space. All either of them had to do was to reach out for the other. His eyes went immediately to her lips.

  He’s thinking the same as I.

  Heat travelled across her skin. She licked her lips. A warm feeling pooled in the pit of her stomach. His eyes snapped up, to meet hers. Eleanor didn’t think she’d ever seen such a beautiful blue before. A strand of his hair had fallen out of his ponytail, and it fell across his cheek. He reached up, his hand on her cheek, his thumb grazing her bottom lip. Eleanor gasped.

  She had never felt so…desired or desirous before. The thought that this could never be flashed through her mind. His eyes seemed to draw out this feeling in her, and his touch stirred something inside of her. Eleanor didn’t know what came over her, but at the same time that she went up on her toes, he leaned in, their lips colliding in a passionate kiss.

  Miss Austen, in all of her novels, never described anything like this. She felt her whole soul awaken at his kiss. She moaned, against his lips, which seemed to make him hungrier for her, as his hand grasped at her waist, pulling her closer to him. She didn’t want it to end.

  She kissed him back, learning how to do so as the kiss deepened. His own were fevered, his lips expertly teasing her own. Her lips parted, and he dipped his tongue inside, running it over her teeth. His hands were on her hips, pulling her closer to his body. Eleanor’s hands were flat on his chest, which was hard, muscular beneath his clothing.

  She pulled away, her breathing coming hard and fast. He was smiling down at her, his eyes soft.

  “Eleanor,” he gasped, his voice husky. Her body reacted to it, butterflies in the pit of her stomach.

  She smiled her mind racing. “I…I had no idea, Your Grace.”

  “How could you not?” he murmured, with a laugh.

  “I mean…” she trailed off, grinning at him. Eleanor felt as though she were floating on a cloud. It had been her first kiss, and it had been absolutely perfect. She raised her fingers to her kiss-swollen lips.

  “I can’t stop thinking about you,” he murmured, softly.

  “Nor I you,” she replied, feeling emboldened. He reached out, his finger trailing along her cheek, causing her skin to tingle at his touch. When he looked at her, it was as though she were absolute perfection.

  The Duke took her hands in his. Eleanor looked down at them. It felt as though this was where her hands should be. Then, Eleanor gasped as she suddenly remembered herself. None of this—none of it, should have happened.

  “What’s the matter, Eleanor?” he asked.

  “Your Grace,” she replied, shaking her head, “I cannot.” Not when he’s supposed to be falling for Lady Julia! “It would be a betrayal.”

  Aaron couldn’t let Eleanor get away. Not when they had just shared the most passionate, perfect kiss of his entire life. He followed after her, his long strides catching up with her easily. She was walking along the grassy track that went in between the pastures.

  “Eleanor,” he called, softly. She only sped up, her arms pumping back and forth. He knew that she was upset. He hadn’t been able to resist lowering his lips to meet hers. Aaron had ceased thinking. He barely knew what he did—only that he must follow her. To what end, he knew not.

  Aaron had never chased after any female before. He felt awkward, but he sped up.

  “Please leave me be, Your Grace.”

  “I don’t want to,” he said. “I just want to talk.”

  “There’s nothing to talk about.”

  “But there is,” he insisted. She was so stubborn.

  “No, there’s not.”

  “Eleanor, wait,” he called out, but she only walked faster. He picked up the pace, reaching out and gently turning her to face him. “Please, speak to me.”

  Tears spilled down her cheeks. Aaron’s heart melted, because she looked at him just like the Duke of Edgeriver looked at the Duchess. That was the sort of love that he wanted, though he hadn’t known it, not until that moment. When he had finally found it.

  With my wife-to-be’s maid. It was too cruel.

  “Why can’t you just leave me be?” she asked. His heart felt like it had been torn from his breast. He reached up, brushing her tears away from her cheeks.

  “I can’t let you go without knowing that you’re all right,” he said, taking her hands in his.

  “I’m just a maid,” she said, pulling out of his grasp. “There can be nothing more.” She started walking again, and he was able to keep up with her.

  “Why not?”

  “I am not a harlot, Your Grace.” She glared at him. He shook his head.

  “No. I would never do that to you.”

  “Then what, pray tell, are you doing?” she asked, angrily.

  He swallowed. “I—”

  “You cannot know how utterly powerless I am,” she said. “I have nothing. I am nobody. You are the Duke of Durnsott. You don’t know.” She gestured at the land around them. “All that we look at is yours, to do as you would.”

  “I don’t know what to do,” he told her. “But I know what’s in my heart, Eleanor.”

  Eleanor looked away from him, tears still streaming down her cheeks. He reached out, taking both of her hands in his. He knew that it took a lot to make her angry. She was always so content.

  Her unhappiness is all my doing.

  “I cannot promise you anything,” he said. “I don’t know what will happen if I pursue the maid of my…supposed wife-to-be.”

  “Then do not ask it of me.”

  “If I don’t tell you that I dream of you, think only of you, then what am I to do?” he asked. “Am I to keep it to myself?”

  “You’ve said it yourself,” she replied. “I am the maid of your wife-to-be. You can promise me nothing, Your Grace.”


  Again, she began to walk away. He stood there, watching her go.

  Eleanor continued to walk. It wasn’t often that she was upset, but here she was. His Grace was so like that Henry Crawford in Mansfield Park. Dazzling and handsome, completely inconstant. No, he wasn’t. From his perspective, if what he said was to be believed, then he had always had eyes for Eleanor. He had never seriously considered Lady Julia, even though he had spoken to her of marriage at breakfast the other morning.

  This is all very bad of him. If he doesn’t love Lady Julia, then he should say so, and send her home. It would solve every problem.