Tempting The Ruined Duke (Steamy Historical Regency Romance)

by Olivia Bennet

  Stopping short in the doorway, she frowned at her father.

  Why would he have invited Mr. Jones to their borrowed cottage?

  Americus pretended not to notice her expression, getting to his feet with a pleased smile. “Louisa! You almost missed Mr. Jones. He came to call on us.”

  “I see that.” Louisa stretched her lips in a parody of a smile and nodded at him, “It is wonderful to see you again.”

  She put down her supplies and took a seat across from the barrister, “What brings you to our little town?”

  “Well, you know about the spate of thefts that have taken place in local taverns?”

  “Yes! The Duke’s particular friend was one of the affected.”

  “Well, the tavern owners were concerned about loss of business and so they invited me to come and make inquiries and get to the bottom of it.”

  “Oh. I did not know that was part of your duties as a barrister.”

  Mr. Jones shrugged. “I am here to uphold the law.”

  “Should they not have come to the Duke?”

  “Yes, but seeing as he is not around…”

  “I was under the impression that the attacks had abated.”

  “Not quite. They have simply become more insidious. Men have been accosted in the alleyways as they go to relieve themselves, others on their way home. They always seem to know who has a full purse.”

  “Perhaps they make note of who bleeds freely in the tavern.”

  “Mmm, that is a good thought.” Mr. Jones removed a notebook and wrote it down, “I shall be sure to make inquiries.”

  Louisa nodded awkwardly, not knowing what to say to that.

  * * *

  “Good afternoon Mr. Fairchild,” Jeremy stepped into the man’s office without being announced. He noted how his man of business jumped guiltily before stiffening and offering him an insincere smile.

  “Your Grace. I…was expecting you earlier.”

  “Yes, well, I got caught up in other things. Would you be so kind as to avail my books to me?”

  “Oh, straight to business. Of course, but can I offer you some refreshment?” Jeremy was quite sure he was not imagining the other man’s nervousness.

  “No, thank you. Just the books please.” He took a seat on the visitors’ chair, crossing his legs elegantly while behind him, Daniel prowled like a tiger marking its territory. He had the reputation of being a dandy but the Earl could be quite dangerous if he chose.

  Right now, he was ultra-vigilant as he watched Jeremy’s back. Mr. Fairchild rummaged in his drawers before emerging with several accounting books. “I did not have time to prepare a report. Your visit was very abrupt.”

  “It is no problem. I do not mind.” Jeremy held out his hands for the books and Mr. Fairchild hesitated before handing them over.

  “Are you leaving with them?”

  Jeremy lifted an eyebrow. “How else do you expect me to go through them?”

  “Oh, well…I thought that you might look through them here…so that I can explain anything that is not clear.”

  “Oh, no, no. I do not wish to take up more of your time than necessary. I shall be fine reading them on my own.”

  “Y-yes of course.” Mr. Fairchild bowed as Jeremy got to his feet and left the room, Daniel on his heels.

  * * *

  Louisa’s body and mind didn’t ache for the first time in a while, as she settled in her bed and attempted to sleep. Not that she would have to struggle very hard because she was pleasantly drowsy already.

  Louisa didn’t think about how she had been tossing and turning in recent nights from the endless stream of thoughts that buffeted her mind. Thoughts of Jeremy and her place in his life. Thoughts of her father and his conviction that the end of his life was near. Thoughts of her future.

  No, tonight was… calm.

  Her breathing was even and she was warm beneath luxuriant blankets. The moon wasn’t too bright, the light of it barely touching the edge of her chamber to leave her in comforting darkness.

  She struggled to keep her eyes open, her lashes fluttering as sleep whispered sweet nothings into her ear. Her eyes closed for just a moment, her entire body relaxing. She had never felt more comfortable. She didn’t even think as one of her hands began to gently run down her nightgown-clad body and pull up the thin cotton.

  Her touch was light and slow. She felt no need to rush herself meaning only to let the comforting touch of her own hand relax her further. A gentle pressure built up in her to mingle with her sleepy relaxation. Louisa lifted her gown higher with a soft sigh as she touched skin to skin.

  This was something she had never thought to experience before. She felt a sleepy pleasure in the touch and sighed. Her hand paused a few times as she dozed off, her eyes kept closed for just a little too long. A few moments passed before her eyelids flickered open to barely take in her shadowed bedchamber as she resumed her lazy strokes.

  It took her by honest surprise when her body arched and shuddered, a wave of electric heat and warmth flooding through her. A soft sigh escaped her lips as she sunk even more into her bed, her hand warm where it rested against her pulsing center. Her breathing slowed and her head lolled slightly to one side.

  That was…nice.

  The lazy thought swam lazily through her mind as her drowsiness seemed to increase tenfold.

  Devoid of active thought, she stared up at the ceiling as she smoothed her gown back down. Her eyes drifted shut and it couldn’t have been a few seconds before she was completely out.

  Chapter 28

  Missing Home

  Jeremy was digging in his bag, looking for his banyan when his hand fell upon a soft bundle of fabric. He pulled it out, and stared, wondering how it had gotten there. It was the sash Louisa had been wearing during the festival. It had loosened from her waist as he kissed her and he had absently kept hold of it.

  He’d had no idea that he packed it when he came to London. Jeremy felt all his breath leave his lungs.

  All the weight of his sorrow seemed to double in that moment, in the sensory overload that erupted in him at the sight of that one slender strip of fabric, and for the first time in days, Jeremy feared that he might shed some tears.

  Everything that he had been holding back, that he had been keeping shut away inside himself, threatened for one frightening moment, to come pouring out.

  His eyes burned as his fingers closed around the strip of silk. Its softness, the fineness of the fabric, it reminded Jeremy so of Louisa herself, her exquisite creamy skin, the rich coffee darkness of her curls, so sensuous, so full. Jeremy imagined her curls twining around his fingers as he brushed his hands into Louisa’s hair.

  Oh, Louisa.

  As Jeremy looked at his own fist clenched around the strip of silk, his scar-roughened skin stark against the finely-woven material; the mottled flesh a blatant contrast to the plain white. He felt an ache move through him that seemed to cleave his heart in two.

  He tightened his fingers around the piece of cloth before stuffing it into his pocket. He did not want to lose complete control of himself, not with everything he had to deal with. He had books to review and a decision to make.

  It was only later, much later, when he was finally alone, lying in his bed in the dark, in Daniel’s guest room, that Jeremy let himself pull out the length of folded silk from his breast pocket.

  He ran the fabric through his fingers, letting it unspool in a soft, slow silky tumble. At the feel of it, his breath left him in a long sigh. There was a constant ache of yearning and regret in his belly about the way he’d handled this separation. He should have spoken to Louisa first. He should have explained.

  He held the silk reverently to his face, inhaling deeply. The scent of it, the scent of Louisa was so strong, Jeremy almost cried out.

  Heat pooled low in his belly as he felt his limbs weaken with desire.

  He shut his eyes, bringing Louisa’s face to mind. Recalling the way her eyes could spread wide in startled wond
er or narrow in inward-focused concentration. He recalled the ‘oh’ of her surprise which softened the edges of her mouth, long dark lashes fluttering against her cheeks as her eyes swept downward.

  Jeremy breathed the scent of her in again, felt his manhood swell and thicken between his legs and it was only another minute before his erection formed a sizable bulge in the front of his breeches.

  Jeremy curled over on his side, tilting his body away from the pool of lantern light on the bedside table, the muted sound of voices emanating from the parlor still going at the game of whist he’d retired from in defeat, drifted up to him. He was restless and unable to settle but he did not know why. Or rather, he knew why, but he saw no benefit in dwelling on it. He thought back to his time on his ship, before he fell ill.

  He thought often of home then, missing it in his bones, wondering how his mother fared and if his father was well…it ate at him, the self-exile. Being away from Louisa – in another type of self-exile – brought it all back. The pain, the sorrow, the unending pit of despair that he hid behind raucous behavior, drinking and whoring.

  He had indeed had a taste of women from every continent and done things most ladies of the ton or indeed, in all England, could not even imagine. However, none had left him with the longing he now felt for a simple English girl from the countryside who painted magnificent portraits.

  He was well and truly caught, and did not have the sense God gave him, to be perturbed about it. He smacked his lips, tasting the rum he’d drunk just after being carried, bruised and burned, back to the ship, which gleamed darkly in the Caribbean sun. The liquor smelt like heaven and tasted like hell, but it was the first drink he’d been able to have ever since they took him down from the stake.

  He would forever associate it with his scars.

  He remembered quite vividly, what he’d been thinking about as the first mate set sail. He had wondered whether he would ever see his homeland again, so sure was he that he would die at sea.

  He did not want to die at sea.

  He wanted to see his mother one more time.

  Jeremy wondered why the simplest decisions he had to make always had to be under duress. Even knowing how much he wanted to come home, he’d sailed around the world for months; waiting to get well…and then delayed his return some more until he heard, through a letter from Daniel, that his father was dying.

  He had come as fast as he could then; but it wasn’t fast enough. He did not ever see his father alive again.

  I won’t make that mistake with Louisa. He vowed silently. He would not let his insecurities make him delay until it was too late for them. She was his love and it was well past time that she knew it. That she knew he was ready to risk it all for her.

  If she turns me away, so be it. But at least I will have tried.

  He lifted the sash to his nose again, breathing her in. The scent of honey, turpentine and lavender as well as something uniquely hers brought her to mind so vividly it was as if she was there with him. He arched into the bed, a heady surge of lust shooting through him at the thought of finally, finally, possessing her, heart and soul.

  He knew for sure that nothing would make him happier than that.

  I have to go back.

  The thought was immediate and urgent and if he had less presence of mind he would have gotten up right then and left. But he was still a duke, still had responsibilities to take care of. His heart would have to wait a little bit longer.

  His body though was ready for release. At least two more days before he could leave; he shook his head, feeling as if the yearning might kill him. He closed his eyes, letting himself go, her name on his lips.

  Louisa!

  Afterwards, he lay for a long time, the fabric of Louisa’s sash now moist beneath his mouth. His whole body was relaxed and his mind was at peace.

  Patience.

  He would find it from somewhere and he would finish the job he’d set out to do.

  Before the difficulties of his situation could assail him again and steal away the last fading glimpses of Louisa, sleep overcame him, making his eyes heavy and dragging him forcibly down into slumber.

  * * *

  “I think I need to return home,” Jeremy told Daniel as they sat in his study the next morning.

  “Oh? What about the books?”

  “I shall take them with me.”

  “And your man of business?”

  “I shall have Notley send him a letter notifying him of the termination of his services.”

  Daniel narrowed his eyes. “Why Notley?”

  “Because I am curious as to how he will react.”

  “You want to see if he will do something to indicate his culpability.”

  Jeremy shrugged his agreement and Daniel grinned. “I forget how diabolical you can be at times.” he clapped the Duke on the back, “Welcome home, Munboro. It's good to have you back.”

  Jeremy grinned. “Well, I suppose it’s better late than never that you have welcomed me back.”

  Daniel snorted, pulling up a piece of blank paper. “Write your letter of termination. Let me see if I can locate your steward.”

  “Thank you.”

  Jeremy watched his friend leave the room, a smile on his face, before he turned to the task before him. He wanted to word it just right so that if the man of business was acting in league with anyone else in his employ, he would feel obliged to contact them to find out exactly what the Duke knew or did not know. He resolved to hire a Bow Street Runner to follow the man and see what his next steps would be.

  But after that, he was going home because it was time to speak with Louisa and her father. One thing that had become apparent to him in his days in London was that yes, he was ready to make an offer for the young artist and the consequences be damned. He realized that he had not thought even once of returning to sea since Louisa had come into his life. That was remarkable in and of itself.

  He would take his chances with the ton and the possibility of things going wrong in the future. If that should happen, he would do everything in his power to ensure that neither Louisa nor any offspring they might have, would suffer for it. Mr. Americus Notley would just have to trust him.

  * * *

  Jeremy came home three days later, drawing into the courtyard in the dusty carriage and alighting tiredly before handing his bag to a footman and trudging into the house. He sighed, happy to be home, and breathed in. For a moment, he imagined that he caught Louisa’s scent but then dismissed it as wishful thinking.

  Miles walked toward him, a smile on his face. “Welcome home, Your Grace.”

  “Thank you, Miles. Where is my mother?”

  “She is engaged in discourse with Miss Notley. They are having tea on the verandah.” Miles relieved him of his coat and gestured for the Duke to precede him, “Shall I announce your return?”

  “No, no. That is fine, Miles. I think I shall surprise them.” Jeremy smiled, anticipation building as he walked the length of the house and slid the glass door open. He peered out into the verandah where, for sure, his mother and Louisa were in close conversation.

  As his eyes fell on her, a flash of her splayed out before him as she had been in his fantasy hurtled through his mind. He had to lower his eyes to get his body under control before he looked up again. She was on her feet, staring at him as if unsure whether she should fling herself into his arms or act with decorum. Jeremy waited for her to decide which she wanted to do; quite agreeable to either option.

  “How do you do?” he said quietly as he stared back at her, tension lining every muscle as he forced himself not to react to the magnetic force between them.

  “I am fine. What about you?” there was a slight tremble in her voice and her cheeks were stained with red. Jeremy licked his lips.

  “I am well. Tired from the trip.”

  “Oh,” she started as if just realizing that they were standing frozen, staring at each other in the most peculiar way. She turned to his mother, who looked as if she
was vastly amused by them both. “You should have a seat. I shall have another cup brought so that you can have tea.”

  “Pray do not trouble yourself. I feel sure Miles has seen to it.” The words were barely out of his mouth before a footman came bustling out onto the verandah, a tray with a tea cup and extra scones in his hands. Jeremy gestured to him. “You see?”

  Louisa hesitated, seemingly unsure whether to sit down again. “I should leave you to speak with your moth-”