The Bachelor Duke (The Bachelor Series Book 1)

by Cecilia Rene

  Pulling the curtain back in one flourish, he turned away from the audience, just as necks stretched to view the occupants of their box.

  Livie stiffened when she heard the whispers but was unable to make out what they were discussing. As if feeling her need for reassurance, Remington took her hand that lay between them, intertwining their fingers. She was immediately comforted, her head rising slightly. His attention gave her the strength to face her jury.

  He leaned over and whispered in her ear, “Are you well, my darling?”

  Tingles ran up her spine at his closeness. The stage curtains opened, and the orchestra began, but Livie could not focus on the opera.

  She turned to face him, licking her dry lips. “Very.” Their eyes locked. The dark line surrounding his iris made the bright blue more captivating. Her cheeks heated from the memory of their kiss, and she longed for another one, desperately.

  “Good.” He licked his lips, causing her gaze to dip to them. They were pink and full, and she imagined swiping her tongue against them. Leaning over, Livie inhaled his spicy, sweet scent. She squeezed her thighs together, trying to stop the aching need pulsating madly at her core.

  Sitting straighter in his seat, he focused on the performance in front of them. Livie tried to ignore Remington and focus on the opera, but with her hand safely enclosed in both of his as if he were cradling it, she found him difficult to ignore.

  When he leaned over again, she could barely contain her need to feel him against her once more. “Do you know Italian, sweetheart?”

  Turning toward him, she was overcome by his closeness and struggled with an answer. She could not help but enjoy the terms of endearment that so easily fell from his lips.

  “Very little.”

  He moved closer so that his lips were a breath away from her ear.

  “Command me as you will be;

  Order my every move.

  You are my destiny;

  I would do anything for you.”

  With his last syllable, his lips brushed against her ear. Her body quivered from the intimate touch. She turned toward him, completely under his spell. In that moment, she knew she was his and his alone, and she was irrevocably changed forever.

  Their eyes locked, and they stared at each other until a delicate throat cleared. “My dears, I enjoy a good show as much as anyone, but I do believe all of society is enjoying it a little too much.”

  Both Livie and Remington turned to find every eye in the theater on them. Whispered voices filled the large space, nearly overpowering the singing.

  Livie’s eyes widened, and panic took over her. Her gaze darted quickly around the theater with only one thought on her mind.

  Oh dear.

  Remington sat beside Livie as his mother and Mr. Prescott exited the carriage in front of their townhome on South Audrey Street.

  “Please apologize to your parents on my behalf. I feel my head will explode if I do not rest. Perhaps you should accompany them, dear?” Mother Di asked her husband as he assisted her out of the carriage.

  “Mother Di, I assure you, all will be well. The St. Johns are only on Grosvenor Street. We will be there in no less than fifteen minutes. Please allow Prescott to look after you while I escort Lady Olivia home,” Remington assured her.

  She nodded once before bidding them a good night. He worried about her, as she was rarely ever sick when he was growing up.

  The door closed, and Remington rapped on the top of the carriage to signal the driver to move along. They both sat in silence as the carriage bounced through the unpaved streets of London.

  Remington felt a heavy weight on his chest from his actions at the opera. They would surely never stop speaking of the incident just to vex him.

  Taking her by the hand, he entwined their fingers. “Forgive me for my behavior at the opera. I’m afraid I may have compromised your reputation.”

  “We did nothing wrong.” Livie bit her bottom lip.

  He stared at those luscious lips, his body stirring from the simple act.

  The carriage shook side to side, jarring Remington out of his lust-filled mind. “That doesn’t matter, they will surely wag their tongues about how we are not engaged.” His voice shook in anger.

  She cupped his face. “Please do not fret. I am sure no one knew we were in the box alone.”

  “Sweetheart, I’ve spent my entire life growing up surrounded by society, they will ruin your reputation just to wound me. It is no secret how I have always loathed being in the gossips.” He ran his hand through his hair. This was what he never wanted—someone close to him to pay for his acts.

  He took a deep breath, knowing what he should do to save her. For it was clear she did not only need saving from Bromswell, she needed saving from Remington as well. “Perhaps we should consider terminating our courtship to spare your reputation and the scrutiny that comes with courting the Bachelor Duke.” His voice was grave. There was an aching pain in his chest, a hole grew in the pit of his stomach at his words.

  Livie placed her hands on her lap, and Remington noticed how they shook slightly. “If … If that is what you wish, Your Grace.” She turned to stare out the window.

  They were nearing her home, giving him little time alone with her. He gazed at her, his heart breaking at the tears that shone in her eyes. Livie blinked, and he watched in horror as a few tears fell on her beautiful face.

  “Darling, look at me, please?” he begged as he gently placed his hand on her chin, turning her toward him. He caught her tears with the pads of his thumb, each tear was like a knife in his heart. “I want nothing of the sort, but if it will save your reputation from scandal … I dare not be selfish.”

  There was nothing he would not do for her, including releasing her from their arrangement. The realization of how much he had come to care for her shocked him. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her to him, needing to feel her in his arms.

  “We cannot live our lives afraid of society. The ton will use us if we allow them to.” Unshed tears glistened in her eyes. “However … if your affections for me have changed, that would be reason to end our courtship.”

  “Never, darling. I want you more than words can describe.” Gripping the nape of her neck, he pulled her closer to him as the carriage slowed. “I don’t deserve you.”

  The words were true, but he didn’t deserve her, not after all the horrible things he witnessed throughout his life. The mistreatment toward women that he never was able to save. His real mother, Eliza Warren, Mother Di, and another, whose name he could barely think without feeling the failure of his actions.

  “You deserve me, and much more,” she whispered, her gaze on his lips.

  Unable to control himself any longer, he covered her mouth with his. Her gasp quickly turned into a moan of pleasure. Remington’s hands roamed her lush curves, and he could feel her body relax in his embrace. Her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer. It thrilled him that his shy Livie desired him.

  His mouth slanted across hers. The sounds she made only spurred him on, increasing his desire to a fevered pitch. He lifted her up onto his lap, feasting on her as if she was the last meal he would ever have in this cruel world. Having her on him drove him wild with desire. He fought against his own restraints to not take her in the carriage.

  Livie ran her fingers through his hair, causing him to release a shuddering breath. Her grip was light, but feeling her fingers in his hair had his member twitching eagerly in his breeches. Livie turned her head, a desperate exhale for air escaping her, as Remington’s lips hungrily traveled to the base of her neck.

  His teeth nipped at the sensitive flesh of her throat as one of his hands caressed a nipple. He groaned out loud, wanting nothing more than to pull her gown down and bury his face in her lush, ripe breasts. She let out a strange sound that filled him with a deeper desire as he pulled her closer, wanting all of her.

  Taking her lips again, he nibbled on the sensitive flesh of the bottom one. His tongue slow
ly swept across it, begging for permission.

  Livie scooted up further on his lap. Remington’s hands gripped the skirts of her gown, her bottom was now in contact with his hard member. It was the sweetest form of torture, but he knew he must stop it. His head fell back against the seat, and he gripped her hips, imploring her to stay still. If she continued to move, he might spill himself right then and there.

  “For the love of God, Livie … you’re driving me mad,” he pleaded desperately. Each shift of her body rubbed tantalizingly against him.

  “Is that a good or a bad thing?” she asked, innocently with wide stormy eyes.

  Remington chuckled, loving her purity. “Both.” He took her by the neck and pulled her to him, plundering her mouth.

  His tongue glided against hers erotically. Leaning forward, he held her in his arms, cradling her like the precious jewel she was to him.

  A sharp rap on the door brought Remington out of his lust. Freeing her lips, he pressed his head against hers. Her eyes danced happily.

  “In a moment, Perry.” Remington gave Livie one last, chaste kiss before helping her sit beside him.

  “It is not Perry.”

  There was much more than singing happening at the opera. the Bachelor Duke and Lady O were caught in a compromising position.

  Are wedding bells imminent?

  Time stood still as Livie stared horrified at the carriage door. To be caught in such a predicament was embarrassing no matter who discovered them. She quickly straightened her dress as Remington arranged his cravat back in order before he opened the door.

  Julia stood in the cold evening, bouncing on her toes, her hands rubbing together.

  “I came to fetch you! You won’t believe what happened?” Julia reached into the carriage and took Livie by the hand.

  Livie came out first, followed by Remington.

  “Is everything well?” Livie inquired, fear gripping her as she wondered why Julia came out to retrieve her. She turned to Remington, dipping a quick curtsey. “Your Grace, thank you for a lovely evening. Please send my regards to Mother Di. I hope she feels better soon.”

  “Of course.” He bowed. “May I call on you tomorrow?”

  “Yes, I would like nothing more.” Her eyes locked with his and she licked her lips, remembering their time in the carriage.

  “Livie, come!” Julia pulled her cousin away, squeezing her arm. “What was happening in the carriage?”

  Before Livie could answer, her father appeared in the doorway, glaring at her and Julia. “Olivia, what was transpiring in the carriage that you were delayed so long?” her father asked as they entered the foyer.

  She wrung her hands nervously. “We were discussing the opera and his mother’s health.”

  He gave her a stern look that caused her to shift uncomfortably beneath his intense scrutiny. “You would confide in me if something was amiss?” he asked, ignoring Julia beside her.

  “Yes, I would, but I assure you, Father, the duke is always a gentleman in my presence.” Livie answered before turning toward an anxious Julia. “What has happened?” she asked, wanting to change the subject from her and Remington.

  “Livie! I’m engaged!” Julia flung her small frame against her, encircling her in a grip stronger than one would think her capable of.

  Embracing her cousin, Livie smiled. “That is the happiest of news! You must tell me everything.”

  “It was glorious, but it is not information for Uncle’s ears, come!” Julia dragged her away, leading her up the stairs.

  Livie was happy for her cousin and hoped that she would be next.

  Once in her room, Julia practically pushed her cousin onto the dark rose settee beneath the windows. Her cousin’s excitement spilled forth before Livie could even adjust her position.

  “Oh, Livie! It was magnificent. Henry knelt down on one knee, looked into my eyes, and admitted that he loved me with a great passion and could not live without me in his life. Can you believe he used those words? A great passion! I cried and said yes, of course, before attacking him and falling into his arms. The kiss was like nothing I’ve ever felt before. It wasn’t the first time we’ve kissed, but this one felt so entirely different.” Julia rambled on, not stopping to breathe in her happiness.

  “I’m so happy for you. I know how much you love the marquess, and I know he adores you.” Livie hugged her cousin, squeezing her tightly.

  “He does adore me as I do him. That is why, while we were alone, I did allow certain liberties. After all, he will be my husband.”

  “What type of liberties?” Livie thought about her own indiscretion in the carriage. The kiss had awakened parts of her body she had not known existed.

  “I-I let him touch me intimately, and I may have touched him as well,” Julia whispered. Her cheeks turned bright red. “But I know you are too innocent to think of such things.”

  Livie glared at her cousin, who could be simply infuriating at times. Growing up together, the two fought viciously before making up and declaring their undying love for one another, forgetting whatever they were fighting about.

  “You’d be surprised what I’ve allowed the duke to do, and I assure you it is much more than holding hands.” Livie rolled her eyes at Julia, getting more and more upset by her assumptions.

  Julia gave her a quizzical stare, tilting her head to the side as if she was taking inventory of her words. “Are you really going to keep a secret from me? What exactly was happening in the carriage when I knocked?” Julia crossed her arms and smirked.

  “Things,” Livie said in a singsong voice, her body still on fire from her liaison in the carriage.

  “Olivia St. John, if you do not tell me this instant. I will tell Auntie that Cook sends sweets up from the kitchens.” Julia challenged, raising her eyebrows.

  “You wouldn’t dare,” Livie said slowly. Cook had sent sweets up since she was a girl.

  “Would you like to test that theory?” Julia perched back, a wide grin on her pretty face.

  “Let’s just say one can do much more in a carriage than riding.”

  Staring openly at her cousin as if she was a complete stranger, Julia opened and closed her mouth several times. “Livie! I’m absolutely shocked. What did you do in the carriage?”

  “He kissed me as if his life depended on it,” she whispered, still feeling the weight of his lips, the feel of his hands.

  “Oh my, aren’t we a pair.” Julia tapped a delicate finger to her chin.

  The ladies stared at each other before giggling profusely. Livie knew she would miss this when Julia married the marquess, but she hoped they would still see each other often.

  “Livie?” Julia asked.

  “Yes?”

  “Did you feel the kiss everywhere?” Julia asked softly as she stared off whimsically.

  Livie’s face heated at the memory of Remington’s lips, his hands roaming her body, the bite to her neck that caused a pulsating need of desire to course through her.

  “Yes.”

  The following day, a jubilant Remington relaxed in O’Brien’s with Heartford. He tried to focus on his friend’s happy news, but Remington could not help but replay the events from the previous night in his mind. Everything about Livie called to a part of him he never knew existed.

  Heartford, who was now on his fourth glass of brandy, nearly fell out of his chair. He wobbled unsteadily then jerked upright in an effort to steady himself.

  “I think you’ve had enough, old chap. You don’t want Hempstead to see you as drunk as David’s sow after he’s granted you the hand of his niece, do you?” Remington took hold of the glass and moved it out of Heartford’s reach.

  “I hope I’ll never get that drunk!” Heartford sat up straighter. “My God, you don’t think Hempstead will change his mind, do you? I shall never be happy without Lady Julia.”

  “You will never endure such a thing. Hempstead can see as well as any other that you are hopelessly in love with her.” Remington raised his arm, ca
lling over a servant. “Now come, let’s get you sober before you make a fool of yourself.”

  “Your Grace?” the boy asked excitedly.

  “Ahh, which one are you?” Remington tipped his head, awaiting his answer.

  He had been to the O’Briens for dinner last season, when he had assisted O’Brien with a matter concerning his eldest son, Tavish. Remington always thought the man was mad for having so many children near the same age. It seemed as if he and his wife were finally slowing down.

  “I’m Finnegan, sir. The second youngest.” His voice was proud as he stood tall, his arms clasped behind his back awaiting Remington’s request.

  “I swear the world will be run by O’Briens one day,” he teased, giving the young man a smile. “I think it’s time the marquess had some coffee.”

  “Of course, right away, Your Grace.” The boy nearly tripped over his long legs to do Remington’s bidding.

  Windchester entered, looking haggard and disheveled. His clothes wrinkled, cravat untied, a sour disposition on his usually friendly face.

  “What is the matter?” Remington asked.

  Windchester’s body sagged in weariness, his hands gripping his hair in distress.

  Heartford glared as a steaming cup of coffee was set in front of him. “Windchester, what has been troubling you for days now?”

  “I will not lay my burdens upon either of you.” Windchester took the decanter of brandy on the table, poured his own glass, and drank as if he needed the strength that only the strong drink could provide. “You are engaged to Lady Julia, and I do believe that wedding bells will soon be in Karrington’s future.”

  Remington swallowed loudly. He exhaled slowly trying to stop the panic that surely would follow after such a revelation, but there was none.

  “If you cannot confide in us, your friends since infancy, then to whom can you tell your secrets?” Remington raised a brow at his cousin.

  Remington began to say more on the subject, but was interrupted by the Earl of Darby. The older, stocky gentleman was a notable gossip who kept company with none other than the Countess of Windchester.