Wild Passions of a Mischievous Duchess

by Violet Hamers

  He kissed her forehead, slowly breathing in the scent of her hair.

  “You’d better hurry back before they leave without you,” she warned.

  “To hell with them. I’ll stay here with you tonight,” he said without thinking. He kissed the side of her neck, her jaw, and the corner of her lips. Her skin was lightly perfumed with what smelled like rosewater. Her paleness, which could sometimes be described as a pallor in her dark clothing, looked warmer and softer in the borrowed gown. When he touched her, her breathing became low and deep, her breasts pushing against the silk bodice.

  Her desire was evident, but fragile. He knew that if he remarked upon the way her lips parted for him so eagerly or the glassy, lustful look in her eyes, that her embarrassment would take over. She would laugh and steel herself against the sensations he stoked in her. Her modesty and propriety would serve her well in the years to come, he knew. But right then he wished there was a way he could nullify her decorum, if just for a night.

  She is my wife already, in spirit and intention, if not yet by law. Who could condemn me?

  He drew her against his body and she sighed, yielding delicately to his embrace.

  “You must go,” she breathed after a moment.

  “No.”

  “You must, you must,” she protested, wriggling out from his grasp. Gerard found that he was panting slightly. She looked at him with wide eyes, halfway between fright and abandon.

  “Of course, you’re right.” he said, tearing his eyes from her with difficulty. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

  “It’s late,” she offered as some excuse.

  “Yes. I shall…I shall call on you tomorrow…?”

  She smiled warmly. “Yes. Tomorrow.”

  “Goodnight Elizabeth,” he said, not moving towards her after this, the second time he had pushed her boundaries too far.

  He was relieved when she closed the distance she’d put between them, resting her hand on his chest as she rose onto her toes to kiss him.

  “Goodnight,” she whispered. “I love you.”

  When he reached the carriage again, he had to endure the ribbing of the others.

  “My, Gerard, you look rather flushed. Did you and Miss Peaton fight?” Jonathan said as Gerard sat down.

  “Leave him alone, Jonathan, or else I will have to tell everyone about your brand of courtship. Remember before we were even engaged, that night after the dinner at Lord Benson—”

  Jonathan interrupted his wife, shushing her as his face reddened. “Now, Bridget, they don’t want to hear about all that.”

  “Anyway, I doubt anything happened. Elizabeth is far too prim.” Rosaline broke in, yawning behind her gloved hand.

  Gerard tried to disappear into the leather upholstery as the carriage rumbled along back to Stonehill.

  “She seemed rather bewildered by the whole evening. I do hope you know what you’re doing, making her a Duchess, Gerard,” Rosaline continued.

  “It would be hard for anyone to meet so many new people all at once,” Bridget interjected. “She did marvelously tonight. She looked like a queen and she managed the socializing with as much poise as could be hoped.”

  “She looked about ready to fall asleep in his arms a moment ago.” Rosaline countered.

  “We’re all tired.” Bridget yawned. “Honestly, I don’t know what these opera writers mean by making their shows so interminably long. Or perhaps we are just getting old, eh?”

  Thankfully, the conversation drifted from himself and Elizabeth after that, and Gerard was free to gaze out the window and worry about his interaction with Elizabeth at her door until they made it back to Stonehill and he put himself to bed.

  His room was cold and empty as he laid in the dark. He wondered about Elizabeth. Was she thinking of him? Was she lonely, in that big room by herself? He imagined her laying next to him, warm and soft in the covers.

  As he drifted off to sleep, his mind wandered back to Christine, and another opera he had seen. Christine had sat next to him, her hand discreetly in his own. He’d traced the contours of her fingers with his, feeling peaceful and happy.

  Thoughts of Elizabeth and Christine melded and merged into a hazy dream. When he woke in the morning, he was covered in a thin sheen of sweat and he felt as though he’d not slept at all.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Elizabeth wished that she could know what was going on with the poisoning case. Gerard was getting almost daily updates from the detective, but now that she was no longer at Stonehill, Elizabeth found herself most frustratingly out of the loop. Weeks had passed, and now that the novelty of living alone in a rented room was beginning to wear off, she was starting to suffer from a creeping sort of dread.

  She noticed that she could not bear to have her curtains open anymore. The thought that the poisoner might be watching her through the windows seeded itself like a weed deep in her subconscious, and she could not shake it, no matter how she tried.

  When she had moved out of Stonehill, everyone had agreed that it was for her safety. As long as she was out of the house, they reasoned that it could not happen again. Now, she was not so sure. And at least at Stonehill she had not been alone. Not to mention the fact that she had been busy with work, so that she always had something else to focus her mind on when she became afraid.

  She rocked in the rocking chair, a spot that had quickly become her favorite. She had a book laid open on her lap but had stopped reading long minutes ago and now she stared indistinctly into the middle-distance.

  When a knock came to her door she leaped up, thinking it must be Gerard, at last.

  “Who is it?” she asked through the door.

  “Footman from Stonehill, Miss.”

  Elizabeth’s spirits sank as she opened the door. A sealed note was pressed into her hand by the man and again she was left alone. She had never received a note from Gerard before, and did not recognize his handwriting, but as soon as she started to read she knew it was him.

  My love,

  I have been delayed this afternoon and I won’t be able to come to you today or perhaps tomorrow either. Thomas has expressed that he feels lonely and it’s partly my fault. Since you left I’ve spent less time with him which is terrible of me, as he and Rosaline have so generously informed me.

  Tomorrow I meet with Detective Collins once more. Hopefully when I see you again I will have some news to share on that front.

  Until then, know that I love you and I miss you.

  Yours,

  G

  Elizabeth sighed, letting the note fall onto the table. She didn’t understand why, but this postponement of his usual visit struck her like a blow. The thought of facing the long night without the fortification of a meeting with him filled her with dread.

  Instinctually, she crossed to the door to check that it was locked.

  Oh, why did I ever leave Stonehill? I can’t bear this quiet!

  She went back to the rocking chair, this time rocking back and forth with an agitated vigor. She could hear the sounds of the road below, outside the window. She wished she could simply walk out on her own and take in the sights. Anything to get her mind off of the shadowy figure that seemed to stalk her thoughts.

  But suppose he’s out there? What if I’m being followed? I would be alone and unguarded…

  She pushed back on the floor, twisting her hands in her lap. Suddenly, she stood up.

  “This is ridiculous. I am not a maiden in need of defending.” She said it aloud, her voice ringing through the empty room.

  Gathering all of her stubbornness around her like a blanket, she dressed. There were still a few coins in her purse from the money that Gerard had given her for her gown, and though she had no notion of what she would spend it on, she slipped the purse over her wrist and headed down the stairs.

  There was a crisp breeze that day, and she turned her face toward it, letting the wind blow back the wisps of hair that had come loose from her coif. At once, she hurr
ied towards the heart of the city, following the foot traffic. She hardly knew the city, having only been out in it a couple of times. She knew where the market was, and now she knew the locations of the dressmakers and milliners.

  All she really knew was that she longed to lose herself in a happy crowd. The loneliness of that solitary room had begun to feel like a prison. Being out among other people was helping already, and she could feel herself beginning to relax.

  Oh. I know what I will do. I’ll go and check on the dressmaker. Perhaps she’s done with mine already…

  She hurried in the direction of the dressmaker, trying not to think of her fears that she might be followed. Just as she arrived at the shop, a familiar face emerged from within.

  “Dorothy!” Elizabeth cried, running forward to greet her friend.

  “Why, Elizabeth!” Dorothy exclaimed, capturing her in a greeting embrace. “What are you doing out and about on your own?”

  “Oh, I couldn’t bear sitting alone a minute longer. I simply had to get out. I’ve been so lonely. I don’t know what to do with myself. I just keep reading the same book.”

  “Is the Duke not keeping you company? He’s hardly ever at Stonehill during the day, that I’ve seen. I’d thought he was with you.”

  Elizabeth furrowed her brows thoughtfully. “N-no. He hasn’t been with me. Has he really been gone from Stonehill? I received a note today that he had been called upon to stay home and spend the day with Thomas.”

  Dorothy pressed her lips together. “I don’t know what he is doing today, I had to go out first thing in the morning. But in general, yes, he has been out of the house most days. How odd that he hasn’t been with you.”

  Dorothy snaked her hand through Elizabeth’s arm and led her away, beginning to walk down the road.

  “Perhaps he has been helping the detective.”

  “I’m sure that’s it,” Dorothy said with a smile. “Are you busy? I have missed you so. Would you mind terribly accompanying me with my errands? I still have several places to get to before I go back to Stonehill.”

  Elizabeth agreed eagerly, slipping into step with her friend as they continued to talk. She found herself unloading all of her worries onto Dorothy. All of the secret fears she had hardly admitted to herself.

  “I thought, when he proposed, that it would mean a swift change. I thought we would be married soon, and move to Hadminster at once. Of course, I understand why he feels he must stay in London, and it would be something different altogether if he and I were still together at Stonehill. But I just feel that…I don’t know. It’s silly. But I am beginning to feel rather abandoned. I don’t mean to be unsupportive—”

  “You are too kind, Elizabeth. Always apologizing for your feelings. Your fiancé has moved you into a private apartment and may come and go as he pleases, while you have been forbidden from returning to the place where he lives. Your visits are completely at his whims. I would be twice as angry as you are,” Dorothy said.

  They’d arrived at a shop that seemed to carry cosmetics of all kinds. Dorothy made a bee-line for the perfumes, explaining that the Duchess was out of her rose perfume from Paris and needed a replacement that was as similar as possible.

  “I’m not angry. I am just lonely, I suppose. I was never really scared of the poisoner before, but now that I have all of this time to sit around and worry…” Elizabeth let her fingers drag along the contoured glass of the perfume bottles. Perhaps if she bought one that Gerard liked, he would be more inclined to visit.

  “Well, I can only assume that he has been scarce because he’s been consumed by his desire to crack the case, as it were. The last time he didn’t stick around. Not that he didn’t care, mind you, he just couldn’t bear to stay in London. He must be doing this for the love of you.”

  Elizabeth nodded slowly. “I just miss him. That’s all. I miss living under the same roof with him. Not knowing when I would pass him in the hall. Waking up every morning knowing that I would see him…”

  “I never thought you were the wifely type, Miss Peaton,” Dorothy teased. She had apparently settled on a perfume that matched closely enough the one from Paris. The crystal bottle was faceted like a jewel and Elizabeth didn’t even attempt to guess at the cost of that small bottle.

  “Neither did I,” Elizabeth laughed.

  “Well, soon you will be married and you’ll be seeing more of him than you bargain for, I’ll wager.” Dorothy said with a wry wink as they went together to the shop owner to purchase the bottle of perfume.

  Elizabeth longed to explain to her the feeling of panic that had begun to stalk her every thought. She wished to express the rootlessness, the discomfort of living alone. She could not find the words, and anyway, it would be unbecoming to complain about it. After all, she was a governess, an orphan, who had captured the attention of a beautiful and mysterious Duke. She had no right to complain.

  The two friends spent the rest of the morning together, until Dorothy said that she needed to be getting back before she ended up being scolded for dawdling. Elizabeth understood, but she parted reluctantly. Walking back to her solitary room with heavy feet, she wondered when she would see Gerard again. At first he had visited her daily, but now his visits were so erratic, she never knew when he would show up.

  It was two days before she heard his distinctive knock on her door. She jumped at the sound, her nerves more fragile than they had ever been in her life. Smoothing her hair and the front of her gown, she made sure that she would give no impression of being disturbed by his sudden appearance before opening the door.

  “I’m late. I know it. Forgive me, Elizabeth,” he said by way of greeting as he swept into the room. His presence filled the open space and at once she felt her frustration at him melting away. When he looked at her, his eyes were so beautiful, his wary smile so disarming, she forgot all of the sharp words she’d been planning to say to him.

  “I’ve missed you terribly,” was the spineless reply that came to her instead.

  “And I’ve missed you,” he assured her, sweeping her into his arms. She rested her forehead against his chest, breathing in the scent of his clothes. He always smelled very faintly of tobacco, as if he had smoked but days ago. It was distinctive, but she could never quite call it to mind while he was away. She melted into the familiarity of it then.

  “Time has slipped away from me lately. I am hounding Detective Collins every chance I get, and there has been business at Hadminster that I’ve had to try and take care of through the post, which is proving to be a trial in itself. And then there’s Thomas and Rosaline. She really doesn’t know what she’s doing with him. She’s no governess. And all this…”

  He paused, looking down at her. His fingers trailed along her jaw and underneath her chin, lifting her face up to him. “I’m sorry, is what I mean to say. I’m sorry I’ve left you alone here.”

  “How much longer?” she asked. She hated how needy she sounded, how weak and small. Her time alone had rendered her a stranger to herself.

  “I can’t say, my love. Perhaps we will find him tomorrow. Perhaps years.”

  “Years?” she exclaimed, her voice rising an octave.

  “Months. I meant to say months,” he corrected, his grasp on her waist tightening as she pushed away from him.

  “No, you said years! Could it really be years? Will I have to live here that long? I can’t bear it. I wish I’d stayed at Stonehill. I’ve never been by myself before and I don’t have the stomach for it.”

  “It won’t be years, darling,” he said, scrambling to undo the panic his words had caused. “Certainly not years.”

  “But you don’t know! You won’t marry me until the man is caught and…every day that goes by, that chance seems more remote. He could be long gone by now. How many crimes so unsolved in London? Have you asked your Detective Collins that?” She collapsed onto the couch, putting her head in her hands. She was trembling, and she fought to contain it. She couldn’t remember ever having such an outburs
t before.

  “Elizabeth…” his voice was soft and concerned as he lowered himself to his knees before her. He took her hands away from her face and gripped them.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I’m not myself,” she said, shaking her head.

  “It’s my fault. This is all my fault,” he said. “I never should have—”

  His voice trailed off, but Elizabeth knew what he had meant to say. He never should have proposed to her. He never should have involved her. She took a deep breath and looked up at him.

  “Never should have what?” She needed to hear him say it. She needed to hear him say that she had seduced him, somehow, and made him act without thinking.

  “Nothing. Forget it.”