“All right… you recall that you once told me you knew nothing about your mother?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I hired a Bow Street Runner to find out more.”
“You did? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I thought I would save you the disappointment if nothing came of it.”
She blinked at him. “I take it something came of it?”
“I…have been given some information, yes.”
She took a step closer. “Tell me.”
“Are you sure? Sure you want to know? Because once you do, you cannot banish that knowledge.”
“Is it bad then?”
“It is not good.”
“Tell me.”
Jeremy sighed, getting to his feet and crossing to the drinks cabinet. He poured her a full glass of whisky. “Drink.”
She took the glass with shaking hands. “You’re scaring me a little bit, Jeremy.”
“And I apologize for that.”
“All right then, I have drunk. Now tell me.”
“Before he came back to his hometown and began to work for my father, Gilbert Notley used to work in Cheapside, as a bouncer in a brothel.”
Louisa frowned. “What has that to do with my mother?”
“Just listen. Don’t interrupt.”
“Very well.” She folded her hands in her lap, “Continue.”
“So Notley worked at Cheapside and as a perk of his job he had…access to the demi-reps. And he was not averse to taking advantage.”
Louisa nodded impatiently.
“Of course, once intercourse has taken place, what comes next? Pregnancy.”
Louisa gasped. “Uncle Gilbert has a child?”
Jeremy stared at her for a full minute. “Y-yes. The woman birthed the child but did not survive. In an uncharacteristic fit of charity, Notley took the child…and brought it to his brother to raise.” He swallowed, watching her.
He watched her work through what he was saying. It took her some time, but eventually her eyes widened in understanding. Her face paled and she made a small hurt sound that broke Jeremy’s heart. He hurried around the desk to cover her hands with his, squeezing tightly. “It changes nothing, Louisa. You are still you.”
She simply blinked at him, shaking her head. “No doubt,” she said drily.
“Are you all right?”
“No.”
They sat in silence for a while, Jeremy waiting for a reaction while Louisa simply continued to stare blankly at nothing.
“My mother was a whore.”
“She was.”
“You married the daughter of a whore.”
“Yes, I am aware.”
“And you’re fine with this latest twist?”
“I was at sea for five years. I feel sure that I associated with worse than the daughter of a whore. I do assure you, Louisa, that nobody but I will know.”
“That is…comforting. Does my father know?”
“I don’t know.”
Louisa stood up. “I have to go and see him.”
Jeremy stood as well. “You should. You should go and see him. But not now. You are not in a state of mind to have civil discourse with him over this.”
“When? When do you think I will be able to discuss this civilly?” Louisa asked in a perfectly-even tone.
“I don’t know, but at least have another glass of whisky first.”
“If you think it will help…”
“I do.” He crossed over to the drinks cart and poured her another glass and watched as she drank it.
“May I go now?” she asked perfectly calmly.
“Yes. But be gentle with him. Give him time to explain all this.”
“Do you think there is a satisfactory explanation?”
“There has to be.”
Louisa sighed, getting to her feet. “Would you have a coach brought round for me while I go and find a coat?”
“Of course. Do you want me to come with you?”
“No. I think my father will be more garrulous if we are alone.”
“All right. I’ll be waiting right here for you.”
“Thank you.”
He leaned forward and kissed her a little longer than he had intended. The way she clung to him, made him think that perhaps he should go with her after all. But when he tried, she firmly declined.
“I need to do this on my own.”
* * *
Louisa took several deep breaths before she knocked on her father’s door. She had asked him to move into Munboro Manor with her, but he had declined. She understood his independence but she still worried for him. He was her only parent.
He had been her only parent.
Now she had no idea about anything. The ground had shifted beneath her feet and she had no idea what to do about it. The door opened and her uncle no, her father, looked at her in surprise.
“Louisa. This is a surprise.”
“Where’s m-my father?”
“He is in the parlor, putting his feet up.”
She walked in, feeling her ire build with every step.
“Louisa! How nice to see you.”
“Father. How nice to see you. Or should I call you uncle?”
Americus froze. “I beg your pardon?”
“You beg my pardon? Is that all you have to say?”
Americus took a step closer. “What has happened? Who has filled your head with dastardly things?”
Louisa laughed hysterically, “Filled my head? You mean finding out the lovely little tidbit that my uncle is actually my father and my father is my uncle…not to mention my mother’s a whore?”
A soft laugh from behind her made her turn. Uncle Gilbert was smiling at her as he leaned against the doorjamb. “You’re very dramatic. You get that from your mother you know.”
“No!” Louisa snapped, “I don’t know.”
Her uncle stepped closer to her. “Calm down, calm down, we shall tell you everything.”
“Gilbert, no!” Americus exclaimed.
“Why ever not? She knows already.”
“You pledged on your life. You swore me to secrecy. You blackmailed me into silence and now you’re just going to tell her?”
Gilbert shrugged. “I have nothing to lose anymore. Very soon I shall be on a ship to the New World and none of this shall matter.”
Louisa felt something twist in her belly at those words. They hurt. Oh how they hurt.
“It’s always good to know that you mean nothing to the person who is responsible for your existence,” she said flippantly.
Americus looked stricken. “Louisa,” he cried in despair, holding out his hand to her.
She turned away from him, collapsing on the settee in despair as she looked in confusion from father to uncle and back. “Why did you keep this from me?”
“I do not have a fatherly bone in my body,” to her surprise, it was Gilbert who answered, “And your father fell in love with you at first sight. It seemed…easier all round if you just assumed that he was your father.”
“Easier for you, you mean.” Louisa stared at him in disgust.
“Yes,” Gilbert replied impassively.
“You really are a contemptible creature, aren’t you?”
“I am who I am. Furthermore, your father went along with it quite easily so…” Gilbert shrugged.
“Louisa,” Americus pleaded, “we tried to do our best by you.”
“How did you find out anyway? You have cost me a valuable piece of leverage against your father,” Gilbert joked.
“Leverage? What do you mean by that?” Louisa asked sharply.
“Just that I sometimes asked Americus for a place to keep certain belongings in exchange for my continued silence.”
Louisa turned to her father. “Why did you not want me to know, Father?” she asked with despair.
“I did not want you to be hurt by our decisions, my dear. I was trying to protect you.”
“Yes, well, now I do know, I do
n’t know if I can ever forgive you for lying.”
Americus laid a trembling hand on her shoulder. “You are my pride and joy, Louisa. If you believe nothing else, at least believe that.”
* * *
Jeremy was at his wit’s end. What had happened to Louisa was a hard thing and a thing that would leave her with a broken heart and a hurting soul. It was going to scar her for a long time. Jeremy could do nothing about that. All he could do was lie next to her, watching her sleep and counting her heartbeats.
Louisa knew he was there. It fascinated him that she had somehow trusted him enough that she could sleep – be in one of her most vulnerable states – in his presence. It was one of the myriad of strange things he was learning about marriage.
Louisa turned to curl into his side.
"Warm..." she hummed. Jeremy lifted the blanket and covered them both.
He smiled.
"There you go, now you’re warmer..." he whispered as he ran his thumb over her cheek. Goosebumps followed the trail. She made a noise out of the back of her throat. He could feel her heartbeat increase.
"...thank you for always taking care of me," she hummed sleepily and he blinked still smiling.
Happiness is a complicated thing.
He played with her soft chestnut hair. The tangles came apart under his gentle strength. He felt privileged to be allowed to touch her like this, any time he wanted, at last.
Louisa lifted her head to look him in the eye. She placed a gentle kiss on his lips and pulled him in. Jeremy smiled into the kiss and pulled away to kiss her neck. Louisa gasped and arched her back into him.
"Jeremy..." she whispered, pleasure dancing throughout her body.
"Yes...” he whispered coyly and placed his lips on her neck his teeth teased her skin. Louisa gasped and placed her hand on the back of his head, cradling it. Jeremy pressed his teeth in a bit deeper and pulled away, doing it twice more like he was asking permission.
“Do you love me?” Louisa asked wistfully.
“With everything I have,” Jeremy replied fervently.
“Then love me.”
She twisted under him until he was lying between her legs, her own securely tied behind his back. He leaned in and kissed her long and hard; meaning to make her forget everything that was not him.
In spite of all the revelations that had hit her like an avalanche and her uncle’s notoriety now that everyone knew what he had done, they still managed to find joy in each other.
Jeremy smirked as he thought of her father’s worry; that their feelings were little more than fleeting things that would dissipate as soon as the novelty wore off. He couldn’t help but find that funny now. His feelings for his wife were far from fleeting and as for her, he suspected that he was the only thing holding her together.
As he thrust hard into her, wanting her to know he was here, with her, in every way, he thanked the Lord for a little adversity because it had taught them that their love was real and true.
The End?
Extended Epilogue
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The Devious Seduction of a Wayward Duke
About the Book
The only way to get rid of temptation is to yield to it...
Raised on the streets, Priscilla Ainsley always needed to fight to make ends meet. When the opportunity to work as a governess in the Duke of Dowding’s household presents itself, she is quick to grasp it.
A widower for over a decade, Oliver Fulton, Duke of Dowding, has dedicated his life to his thriving whiskey business. In desperate need of a governess for his mischievous son, the appearance of one ravishing Priscilla Ainsley comes as a blessing. Little does he know that the arrival of his new employee will mark the beginning of a troublesome era.
As their attraction grows fiercer, so do the threats against the Duke’s household.
And then Priscilla receives a grim ultimatum: steal the Duke's secret whiskey recipe or send both him and his son to their doom.
Chapter 1
Oliver Fulton, the Duke of Dowding, sighed, and then turned to his steward.
“Your Grace, I’m sorry for interrupting you while you are working.”
“It’s fine,” Oliver replied, lifting his head and turning towards the voice of Gerard Wright, the steward who had served him for the past decade. Oliver saw the short, stout, greying, and balding man before him. “What has Jamie done now?”
Oliver watched as Wright’s face fell. He heard him clear his throat, and then the steward began to speak. “I’m not wholly sure, Your Grace, but Miss Collins has resigned, effective immediately. I tried to talk to her, but she has been unyielding. I have asked her to wait in the drawing room, as I wasn’t sure if you wanted to speak with her.”
Oliver sighed again and ran his fingers through his short, curly dark hair, which actually enhanced the Caesar cut, and then rubbed his blue eyes, as he tried to remain calm.
“This is what? The fifth governess who has resigned?” Oliver asked Wright.
“I believe so, Your Grace. She was certainly not happy after Lord Seton left the newts in her desk, and I daresay he has done something similar this time around.”
“My son, the mischief maker. I just cannot understand why he does this all the time. I know he is only ten years old, but I worry that he is heading down a perilous path.”
Wright didn’t respond, but Oliver was only making a statement, and he didn’t expect a response. He then looked at his steward and said, “Wright, please extend my apologies to Miss Collins, and then find my son and bring him here.”
“Of course, Your Grace. I will come back shortly.”
Oliver’s office was located in the west wing of the manor, and it was the furthest part of the home from the main living area. There was a large mahogany desk in the corner, which contained several drawers. Oliver sat at this desk and stared at the center drawer, focusing on the lock.
Contained within that drawer, which was locked with a key that Oliver kept hidden, was the family recipe for the famed whisky that he made in his distillery. This recipe had been passed down for generations and had passed from his father to him. Someday, he would pass it down to Jamie, but that had him worried. If the boy was generally naughty right now at the age of ten, he could be well out of control by the time he was of age to take over the distillery.
Oliver stood and walked over to the round wooden table in the center of the room. There were four chairs around it, and currently, there were several piles of orders for whisky from his many customers.
The distillery was known across England for its high-quality whisky, and Oliver was proud of the legacy that he would leave to his son. However, if Jamie didn’t start acting like a young gentleman, the distillery, which had been around for decades, could be in dire straits.
Oliver flipped through the orders and saw many familiar names. He had worked in this industry for most of his five-and-thirty years, and some of his customers had been customers of his father, too.
Even as a youngster, he remembered coming to this very same office and watching his father and uncle do the same job he did today. For Jamie, however, it was rare for him to venture over to this side of the manor, and he seemed much more focused on playing pranks.
Oliver continued to sort orders as he waited for Wright to return. He wondered if he should have spoken with Miss Collins, at least to apologize for his son’s behavior, but he preferred to let Wright handle the staffing issues. He had enough to deal with, including the distillery, and now he had to find a new governess.
He was well-practiced on hiring a governess now, as this was not the first
time it had happened, and Oliver would once again have to start the process. In the meantime, he would ask Wright to assign a member of staff to teach Jamie something educational, or perhaps he would invite his son to watch him work. That could give him a taste of what working in the distilling business was like.
Oliver heard a knock on the door.
Tempting The Ruined Duke (Steamy Historical Regency Romance) Page 28
