Not Even For a Duke

by A. S. Fenichel

  She lifted enough to center herself and slid her body onto him in one slow, painfully erotic move.

  Garrett elevated to meet her but despite the wondrous torture, he let her set the pace. Slow and steady, she rose and fell. Her eyes closed and her lip clenched between her teeth, she arched her back and rode him like the goddess she was.

  His control slipping, he pressed his thumb to her sensitive bud smoothing circles and heightening her pleasure. Everything inside him longed to feel her body squeeze his and when she tumbled over the edge, he pulled her down and kissed her screams to muffled moans.

  Unable to stop the flood of pleasure, he pulled free and spilled his seed between them.

  Holding her tight, he pressed kiss after kiss to her face, along her jaw, to the tip of her nose. “You are all things good and beautiful.”

  They were both covered in a sheen of perspiration as the final shocks of pleasure rippled through them.

  She settled against his side with her head on his chest. “Why can nights like this not be enough?”

  He sighed. “Because I want more than your body. I want your company, your mind, your heart and your soul.”

  A tear slid down her cheek. “I don’t have all of that to give.”

  “You underestimate yourself, my darling. But I will go to Scotland and see you in London in a few weeks.” He tamped down the sadness rushing to fill him to the brink.

  Brushing the tear aside, she pressed her lips to his chest. “Why did you not stay within me?”

  His longing to do so was so great, he let his heart calm before he answered. “If you found yourself with child, you would be forced to marry me. I do not want you trapped into something you cannot want.”

  “You are a good man, Garrett. I don’t deserve your goodness.” Her arms tightened around his waist as if her body claimed him even if her heart and mind would not.

  The belief in his goodness might be an exaggeration, but he reveled in hearing her say so and tucked the memories deep inside to carry with him. He kissed the crown of her head. “Thank you, Rora.”

  She pushed up. “I should leave you to sleep.” It came out more question than statement.

  “Or you might stay here and sleep in my arms a while,” he suggested.

  “Sleep?” Grinning, she rested her chin on her hands stacked on his sternum. Her eyebrows rose high.

  He shrugged. “If you give me ten minutes and you wish it, we might do more than sleep.”

  Hugging him, she giggled. “I wish it very much. I’ve just discovered being in a man’s bed can be a delight. It hardly seems wise to rush away.”

  Rolling her to her back, he didn’t know if he’d ever been as happy. He’d think about consequences on the morrow. “You are a very wise woman. I have always thought so.”

  Chapter 18

  Aurora sneaked back into her own room just before dawn having woken to Garrett’s gentle kisses and soft voice. It hadn’t been easy to leave him, but it would be worse should her maid find her missing or his valet find her in his bed.

  Her body still sang with pleasure from the night. Glorious sensations sprang from his fingers, mouth and every part of his hard, beautiful body. Nothing her friends had told her did justice to what she’d experienced. And, nothing about lovemaking with Garrett resembled the violence of her marriage.

  Crawling into her bed, she let that knowledge filter in and tucked it away as sleep took her and dreams filled her mind with light brown eyes and brown hair streaked with red in the light.

  The sun streamed into the room when she woke to Gillian padding around with wash water and towels.

  “Is it late, Gillian?” Aurora pushed her hair back from her face. The sleeping braid a distant memory.

  “Nearly half past ten, my lady.” Gillian put the towel next to the wash basin then poured steaming water from a white pitcher into the bowl.

  “Is the house up?” She swung her legs over the side of the bed.

  Gillian closed the window as the morning had brought cooler temperatures. “Some of the men have been up and broken their fasts. Miss Helen and Miss Esther walked into town with the young ladies to investigate a book shop. The other ladies are not below yet and, of course, His Grace has left for Scotland.”

  Pain shot through her chest and she swallowed down any outward display of distress. “I didn’t realize he would leave so early. I suppose it rude of me not to see him off.”

  “It was quite early, my lady. I doubt His Grace expected anyone to be up and about at that hour.” Gillian placed Aurora’s slippers on the floor in front of her. “I’ll be back after you wash to help you dress. Will the peach day dress do, my lady?”

  “Yes. That’s fine. Thank you, Gillian.” Once her maid closed the door, Aurora put her hands over her face and pushed down the grief of his leaving. He had business and she had rejected his proposal. Of course he left. He must have called for his valet after she’d gone to her own room to have left so early. There was nothing keeping him, she’d seen to that.

  Brushing aside her self-inflicted troubles, Aurora slid into her slippers and got out of bed.

  A week past Michaelmas, and it had done nothing but rain in London for days. Aurora’s mood matched the saturated fall weather. The fire was lit in the parlor at West Lane and she stood staring into it. It was Tuesday so at least she had her friends coming for tea.

  The sound of a carriage in the street told her someone was arriving before Faith’s voice sounded in the foyer as she asked after Tipton.

  “I’m very well, Your Grace,” the butler said.

  Faith walked into the parlor. “You look deep in thought, Aurora.”

  Plastering a smile on her face, Aurora turned. “Not at all, just getting the chill off. Do you suppose it will ever stop raining?”

  Faith cocked her head and stopped in her tracks. “Are we relegated to speaking of the weather or are you going to tell me what’s troubling you?”

  It wouldn’t do to get into a long conversation about things that could not be fixed or altered. “I think for now, we will stick with the weather.”

  The look from Faith was almost as bad as a scolding. “If you wish.” She tugged off her gloves and tossed them on the settee. “I missed our tea last week.”

  “I would have thought you’d be sick of me after all the time at the school.” Aurora sat.

  Faith’s eyes widened then narrowed, and she placed her hands lightly on her knees. “Oh you are in a cross mood. You know very well that I am never sick of you.”

  Poppy made a ruckus as she always did before she entered. “It is terrible weather.” She stopped. “Why do you both look so horrid?”

  “Do we?” Faith raised a brow.

  Mercy glided into the parlor. “Oh dear. Should we forgo the tea and go straight for the brandy?”

  Right on time, the tea arrived and they all remained silent until the footman had gone and the door closed.

  She wanted to crawl out of her skin. With practiced movements she poured the tea and told herself to gather her wits. “It is the weather is all. I’m sick of London rain.”

  “Is that all?” Poppy asked. “I thought perhaps you were missing a certain duke and that had your temper up.”

  Bobbling the pot, Aurora splashed tea on the tray. She flashed a look at Poppy. “Garrett is my friend and nothing more. We have been friends since childhood. I don’t know why you all are making so much of his being at Whickette Park. He came to convey Helen and Poppy.”

  “And stayed far longer than the delivery required.” Mercy smiled as she added milk to a cup on the tray.

  “He was concerned about Hexon, and his concerns were valid as it turned out. However, regardless of his feelings or lack thereof, I am in London and he is in Scotland.”

  “No, he’s not.” Poppy spoke around a biscuit.

  Aurora nearly dropped her tea in her lap and had to steady the cup in the saucer. Her china was in peril, she feared. “What do you mean?”

  �
�He called on Rhys and I two days ago. He’s been back in London for several weeks.” Poppy licked crumbs off her fingers.

  Heart pounding in her ears, she couldn’t believe he was in London and hadn’t come to call on her. But why would he? She told him their dalliance was at an end. He was clear that he would not renew is regard. That was what she wanted after all. “Strange he didn’t come here.”

  Mercy sipped her tea then spoke over the rim. “I heard a rumor at the theater last night, but perhaps I should keep it to myself.”

  “You should not.” Poppy plunked sugar in her tea and lifted the cup. “What did you hear?”

  With a brief shift of her gaze to Aurora, Mercy waited for some sign.

  Unsure if she wanted to hear or not, Aurora stayed silent.

  Mercy said, “It seems the mothers of eligible daughters in London are in a frenzy about the Duke of Corwin seeking a bride.”

  The pain that pierced her chest had no explanation. “Garrett will marry?”

  “It seems so.” Faith had been oddly quiet, but now she directed a hard stare at Aurora.

  Poppy narrowed her gaze, but then changed the subject. “We are to attend the Mercer ball on Friday. Are you going? I heard Lady Mercer has redecorated in a Grecian style. I’m sure it’s absurd, but you know I love to see the latest trends and laugh at them.”

  “Grecian? Is that a trend?” Faith pulled a face.

  “I think Lady Mercer hopes to start one and take the credit.” Poppy nibbled on another biscuit.

  “Nick and I were planning to attend. He has some business with Lord Mercer and his lordship sent a personal note.” Faith walked to the window. “I hope the weather will be better. The streets are terrible after all this rain.”

  “I suppose it will be a distraction.” Aurora sipped her tea and wished she could go up to her bed and wallow in the idea of Garrett and his wife coming to call one day. She would have to be cordial, of course.

  Mercy broke into her daydream. “Whatever you are thinking, Aurora, it has formed a crease between your eyes. Are you certain you don’t wish to discuss it?”

  Waving it off, she said, “I have procured some whisky from Scotland. You are forbidden from asking how I came by it. Let’s just say it was a gift.” She crossed to the small cabinet at the far end of the parlor and pulled out glasses and scotch for four.

  Mercy’s aunt had sent the bottle with strict instructions not to tell anyone she’d been procuring such things from their neighbors to the north. Evidently, it wasn’t as refined as other libations. Aurora quite liked it and a little burn might east the ache pressing on her chest.

  “What shall we toast?” Poppy lifted her glass.

  Faith gave the scotch a sniff and grinned. “Let us toast our friend Garrett. To his finding a bride who deserves him.” She lifted her glass high. “To the Duke of Corwin and his bride to be.”

  Mercy and Poppy repeated the toast.

  Aurora drank down the entire glass in one belt. No amount of burn would push aside her pain.

  The Mercer townhouse was in Mayfair. The rooms were awash with candles lighting every corner. It was extravagant, but Aurora supposed her hostess wish to show off her attempt at all things Greek including enormous white pillars around the ballroom as if they were standing in the Parthenon. At the far end of the room stood a statue of Zeus. It was at least eight feet tall, and no covering of cloth or stone hid the details of his form.

  “Gracious,” Aurora said.

  Poppy’s mouth hung open. “I would say Zeus’s beard, but I suppose my colorful epithets are entirely misplaced now.”

  They both burst out laughing and even Rhys let a low chuckle slip.

  The music began and Rhys took Poppy’s hand. “Dance with me, my dearest.”

  Aurora melted back to the side of the room and watched the minuet take shape. The familiar sight of Garrett forced her to hold her breath lest she gasp out loud. She shouldn’t be surprised by his presence. She knew he was in town. Yet the sight of him stirred something inside her.

  He was in a black suit but his waistcoat was a patterned gold brocade that was very fashionable.

  His hand met that of his partner and Aurora had to turn away and compose herself. Mary Yates smiled and simpered up at him.

  It shouldn’t matter. It was only a dance. Garrett had not offered for Mary as far as Aurora knew. Oh, God, not Mary Yates. Anyone else. Well, not anyone, but certainly not Lady Mary Yates.

  A torrent of nightmares from her days at the Wormbattle School for Girls rushed back. Mary Yates had been a year ahead. She had taken an instant dislike to Aurora and her friends and made life very hard for a time. She’d labeled them wallflowers at their first dance. Poppy, Faith, Mercy, and she had fought back by embracing the title and making it their own. Unsatisfied, Mary had stolen papers and handed them in as her own. She taken Faith’s diary and read it out loud to the assembly. Once, she’d loosed a goat in the Wallflower’s room. The poor animal had been terrified and destroyed everything, leaving the room in such shambles every linen, paper and stick of furniture had needed replacing. Luckily, the beast hadn’t had time to get inside the wardrobes and their clothes had survived.

  Of course, the Wallflowers had done their fair share of mischief, but they had been provoked. Mary Yates was unfeeling and malicious. She was not good enough for Garrett.

  “I see Garrett has taken to the dance floor.” The bite in Mercy’s tone could not be mistaken. “We have only just arrived. I hope you weren’t alone long.”

  Aurora kissed her cheek. “No. I came with Rhys and Poppy. They have gone to dance.”

  Spotting the statue, Mercy covered her mouth. “I think our hostess has taken the Greek style a bit too far.”

  Unable to help herself, Aurora said, “Why would he dance with that horrible woman?”

  “Mary is rich and very pretty on the outside, Aurora. Garrett may not be privy to her true character.” Mercy spotted Faith and Nick and waved at them across the room.

  She was right, but that didn’t make seeing him dance with Mary less offensive. “Where is Wesley?”

  “He went to get me some punch. I heard that Lady Mercer is very proud of her punch.”

  Aurora pointed across the room. “I heard that too much of that punch and you will take off your clothes and dance with Zeus over there.”

  Giggling, Mercy said, “I shall pace myself.”

  The minuet ended and Garrett bowed to Mary before taking her back to her mother to the left of Zeus. With a word and another bow, he disengaged himself and walked from the ballroom.

  It wouldn’t do to run after him, but a large part of her wanted to do just that. Waiting until the next dance began and her friends took to the floor, Aurora told herself she needed air as she walked down a hall to the door that led to the veranda.

  After over a week of rain the skies had cleared the day before, leaving London feeling fresh and clean.

  The statues of female gods lined the wall. From Hera to Artemis and so many more. The expense of such a ridiculous display had to have been outrageous.

  Garrett looked up at Demeter with her full bosom and hand outstretched with barley clutched in it. His black coat stretched tight across his shoulders.

  “I think Lady Mercer has outdone herself.” Aurora stepped beside him.

  The way he drew in a sharp breath made her think she might have startled him. “Hello, Rora.”

  “How are you, Garrett?” So much awkwardness and simple talk when there was so much she wanted to say, but couldn’t.

  “I’m well. I had planned to call on you next week.” Still, he kept his gaze on the statue and then further into the torch-lit gardens.

  She shrugged. “How long have you known Mary Yates?”

  Turning, he looked at her for the first time. “I have only just met Lady Mary. I can see and hear that you know her better.”

  “We were at school together.” She tried and failed to keep the rancor out of her voice.

&nbs
p; Closing the few feet separating them, he said, “Is it Lady Mary particularly, or would any woman I danced with garner such a disgusted tone in your voice?”

  Aurora faced him and breathed deep the warm scent of soap, the outdoors and Garrett. The exquisite breath of him made her head swim. “I cannot say for sure to the rest, but it is most definitely Mary Yates in particular.”

  With a sad smile, he stepped back. “She is quite pretty and comes from a good family.”

  She could go on for hours about Mary’s flaws, but what good would it do? “She is both of those things. Was your trip to Scotland fruitful?”

  “I have advertised to let the house. I took time to meet with all my tenants so I could explain the situation. I was gone far longer than I intended, but it was a good trip. I’ll not return for some years. My steward will handle interviews with any good prospects to take the lease. I’m sure it will all be well in hand.” He said it all as any friend might inform another.

  His tone gave the comfort of a friend and made her miserable at once. “I’m glad for you.”

  “Are things well in Cheshire?” he asked.

  “Helen has it all under control. We have three additional students, and they all get on very well. I hope it shall all work out. I will return in the spring unless something urgent should arise.”

  “You returned after the expected fortnight?” Perhaps he was tired of conversation and so made light talk.

  “We did. There was nothing keeping us in the country once the lessons began in earnest. I think Helen was happy to see us go so she could get the girls into a routine.” Aurora hazarded a look at him. Those eyes that had so intrigued her stared back with confusion or questions. She didn’t know and was too cowardly to ask.

  “I’m glad to see you, but I must return to the ballroom. I’ll call during the week, Rora.” Garrett turned and rushed away and into the house.

  Aurora found her way inside, but the coolness of their exchange broke something inside her. The dining room was crowded with revelers, each taking their turn at the giant crystal punch bowl at the center of an elaborate table.