Lord Love a Duke

by Renee Reynolds

  After what felt like hours though was likely not even one, he caught sight of a flash of pale green flying through the trees on the other side of the fence in the western pasture. Jonas immediately cut Paladin to his left and pounded toward that brief glimpse. He drove his mount to a breakneck pace knowing he would gain on Juliet due to the heavily wooded area in which she rode. Catching sight of her skirt again he yelled her name several times in effort to stop her before she took the jump over the hedgerow. Later he would realize she most likely feared pursuit by Melville so he should have exercised restraint by refraining to call her name until she could see his approach from the side. Instead, his shout seemed to startle her into jerking her reins in surprise. Although an experienced horsewoman, she could not correct her mistake as Hera stutter-stepped violently. Juliet struggled to maintain her seat but eventually lost her balance and was tossed to the earth.

  Jonas was powerless to stop her fall and could only fly off his horse to her side mere moments later. She had fallen cleanly on her backside but with some force and speed, and he could see a gash across her forehead near her hairline. Upon examination, it was found shallow but bleeding steadily, as head wounds were wont to do, and he ripped off a strip from her petticoat to staunch the blood flow. He had feared she was knocked unconscious but her lids fluttered open at his ministrations. Her pulse was rapid and strong as he quickly checked her limbs, finding no discernible breaks. He ran back to his saddle and gave three long blows on the horn to alert the rest of the search party, grabbing his bag as well. Returning to Juliet's side, he gently cradled her head in his lap, brushing the strands of escaped hair from her face.

  “Juliet. Open your eyes, sweetheart.” Jonas lightly shook her shoulders and was rewarded with a soft groan. “Juliet, love. Open your eyes for me. Please.” He tried to keep the fear out of his voice. Her lids flickered again and she squinted against the light that dappled through the trees, groaning with more volume this time.

  “Must I open them? Saints and sinners, what happened?” she asked.

  “You tumbled from your horse, love. Can you tell me how you feel?”

  She quirked her mouth in a wry half smile before replying. “I feel remarkably like I fell from my horse,” she joked lightly.

  Jonas laughed in spite of his worry before questioning her again. “Aside from that, do you have a significant hurt anywhere? Do you have any sharp pains?”

  He could tell by the tightening of her brow she was taking a silent inventory of her person. She gingerly flexed her limbs, moaning slightly with each movement. “I think I ache sufficiently all over but feel no particular sharp pains, nor discomfort in any single place.” She wriggled the fingers of her right hand and grimaced. “Actually, my hand rather hurts but I will take comfort in the fact that I know that lout's face hurts far worse.” Jonas looked to her hand and could see the early stages of bruising forming across her knuckles. Juliet looked up into the Duke's face. “I heard your shout and should not have turned. Hera could not adjust to my lead at our speed. What a greenhorn of an equestrian I am,” she groaned, her eyes closing again.

  Jonas groaned himself and stroked her face tenderly from brow to cheek to chin. “At least you rolled when you hit the earth. That likely saved you from breaking any bones or suffering any serious injury.” He opened his saddlebag and retrieved a flask of spirits his stable master had seen fit to pack. He brought it to her lips. “Drink this. It will help ease your aches somewhat and help what is sure to be an uncomfortable ride home go more easily.” She took two large swallows then began to cough as the liquid blazed a burning path to her stomach. She pulled a face at the taste, then moaned at the pain the movement had caused. “I meant a small sip! And it was not your fault, sweetheart. I should not have yelled at my distance or at our pace. Your reaction was only natural, while mine was foolish. You must have presumed Melville was on the chase,” he continued.

  Juliet opened her eyes half way to see the regret etched on his handsome face. She reached up to cup his cradling hand. “I knew it was your voice, else I would not have turned. Your shout was but instinct, especially if you were in pursuit of me after having heard of my meeting with Melville this morning. It was ridiculous of me to ride away as if I could escape his words. I should have stayed and beaten the blackguard. That is a mistake I shall remedy if the cur has not fled.” She closed her lids and gave another light grunt of pain as she shifted on the hard-packed ground. He brought the flask to her lips and she made to demur but he would not relent. She grimaced again and drank slowly to avoid another cough.

  “Hush, love. I know not the particulars nor do I need know them to be confident that I shall thrash that arse when we return.” Juliet laughed at his curse, and he stroked her cheek again.

  “You should not curse, Jonas. You do it ill,” she teased quietly, her eyes closing again.

  “Just so, dearest. I shall leave the billingsgate to you.” His gaze moved from her face to the sound of approaching hoof beats. “Here come the men now. I will send Gibbs to fetch the doctor while Hanks takes your mount back to the stables.” He lowered her head to the ground and moved away to give the men their instructions. Returning to her side, he helped her rise to a seated position, pausing to let her body adjust to the movement. He offered her another drink of the liquor and she took a long draught, refraining from opening her eyes until the world ceased its tumultuous spins. She nodded her readiness and he brought her gently to her feet.

  Juliet swayed slightly before gaining her balance, frowning at the aches and pains steadily making themselves known about her person. She took a few steps before her knees gave way and she relied solely on the Duke to keep her upright. Jonas motioned for Hanks to come take her arm as he mounted Paladin.

  “Juliet, you are not able to ride so I will ferry you back.” He motioned for Hanks to bring Juliet over and lifted her to his lap as the groom boosted her feet from below. For such a tall and shapely figure, Jonas was amazed that she was light as a feather in his arms. He shifted slightly in the saddle and brought her to rest across his legs, settling her against his chest. She leaned her full weight on him, her trust of him complete. Hanks grabbed Hera's reins and looped them around the saddle horn of his own mount before giving a small salute and departing for the stables. Jonas nudged his mount and he began a slow trot, the fastest gait Jonas believed Juliet could tolerate.

  “Sweetheart, you must not sleep until the doctor can appraise your condition. I am sorry but you need to talk to me on the way home.”

  She groaned but voiced her acceptance of his words. “Of what shall we speak? Your note made mention that you mean to learn all you can of me this week. Would you know my favorite color or flower? Or mayhap I should recite the lines of my favorite Italian opera.” She laughed lightly over her own jests and settled more fully into his arms. While Jonas despised the reason for her present condition, he had to admit he was only too happy to have his arms wrapped tightly around her. She felt too good in his arms.

  “Yes, tell me your favorites. I will need to know these things for our future matrimonial peace, will I not?” he teased, squeezing her shoulders slightly. She felt his voice reverberate in his chest beneath her ear and found she loved its resonant rumble. She gave a small cough and he again pressed the spirits to her lips. She took another long swallow then began to answer.

  “I claim no favorite color but do find I dislike orange as it is a bit harsh for my taste, save in nature. My favorite flower is a daisy. It is so simple a bloom. Its stems are strong while its petals are soft and dainty. I appreciate that contrast. I love the smell of jasmine and honeysuckle, especially when wafting around on a summer breeze. I love the feel of sunlight when it warms my face, although please do not tell my mother. She frets incessantly that I will freckle or melt or fall victim to some other such malady if I venture outside sans chapeau.” She quieted for a moment and he nearly spoke before she resumed her list with a small hiccup. “I love to be outside as often as weather pe
rmits, walking and riding, or simply sitting. I have a terrible weakness for shortbread and must limit myself mightily when it is near.” She gave another pause before asking, “Pray tell me what is in that flask. It burns my throat, and now I fear it has over-warmed my whole body.” She gave another soft hiccup and he chuckled.

  “'I am unsure. Hanks most likely obtained port, or possibly brandy,” he offered with a smile she could hear in his voice if not see on his face.

  “Saints and sinners! I hope 'tis not that tainted batch we brewed at the fishing cabin,” she said with a start, raising her head to look him in the eye. “You must stop and check my teeth. Are they colored?” she asked, smiling widely, her face so close he could smell the brandy and feel her warm breath. He slowed Paladin to a walk and looked at her mouth with laughter. “Oh, 'tis the port! How awful, is it not? Whatever shall I do with violet teeth?” she wailed.

  “Your teeth are just fine, Juliet, still perfectly straight and white. It is not port but brandy Hanks provided. But what is this about brewing a batch of tainted port?” he quizzed.

  She slapped a hand over her mouth then slapped her other over his mouth for good measure, swaying slightly in his lap. “I am not supposed to tell. What a peagoose I am,” she giggled then blinked several times, as if surprised by the sound. Jonas thought he had never heard her giggle and found it quite endearing, especially considering she was most assuredly drunk. “Ooh,” she continued, “you must not tell Miranda. She would be furious to know I gave away our secret.“

  He looked down into her slightly glazed eyes and could not stop the laughter from bursting out to see her in her cups simply by way of several swallows from a flask of brandy. He considered that she was likely without food in her stomach and usually did not imbibe strong spirits, both of which explained her current state. Still, he was intrigued to know what other interesting facts he might learn from her relaxed lips and found he was not above taking advantage of her state of inebriation. “A secret? I promise it is safe with me. I am a vault, my lady. A veritable fortress of discretion. Do you have any other secrets you wish to unburden yourself from this morning?”

  Juliet seemed to contemplate him seriously before suddenly leaning in to press a warm kiss on his lips. He was caught by surprise and had no chance to respond before she broke the kiss and leaned back slightly to stare intently at him. “I rather like to kiss you. Melville's mouth was disgusting and cold and hard. Your lips are so soft. And so warm,” she added before leaning forward to kiss him again. His anger briefly flared at her revelation that the Viscount had kissed her at some point, but with the return of her lips he forgot all else, taking control to prolong and deepen the kiss. He slanted his mouth more fully across hers and swept his tongue gently across her bottom lip. She gasped and pulled away to stare in that faintly glazed yet penetrating way. “I definitely like that. We should do that more often. Je veux que tu m'embrasse tous les jours” she declared before snuggling back down into his arms.

  Jonas struggled to translate her French but found he could not get beyond “I want you to . . . .” He nudged her forehead slightly with his chin. “What did you say?”

  “Hmm? When?” Juliet's brow scrunched in thought. She dropped her gaze down to his lips and leaned in to kiss him again, mimicking his earlier movements, licking his bottom lip before nibbling it slightly. She broke off suddenly as comprehension dawned across her face. “Oh! I said 'I want you to kiss me every day,'” she explained, leaning her head back down to rest on his chest.

  “You can count on that, sweetheart,” he chuckled as he resumed their journey back to the house, its roofline now visible in the distance. He would take advantage of the knowledge that she enjoyed his kisses at another time, but he knew he had a pleased smile spread wide across his face.

  “I love how you call me that,” she abruptly murmured so softly he had to strain to hear. “Baciami ancora e ancora,” she whispered against his mouth before pressing her lips to his. “Kiss me again and again,” she sighed before he followed her orders with alacrity. Jonas adored this free-spirited side of Juliet but could not countenance taking advantage of her inebriated state despite his body clamoring for more. He broke their kiss and she continued the conversation as if nothing had broken her train of thought.

  “And I do have a few secrets but most are of no consequence. Two involve Miranda. One involves my parents. Three involve my brothers but they are not so much secrets as ideas for future blackmail.” She stopped her inventory to pull back and stare at him again. “And two involve you,” she whispered before yawning broadly.

  Jonas was torn between wanting to discover any precious information Juliet clung to secretly about him and the need to respect her privacy while in her vulnerable condition. Curiosity finally won out and he prodded her kindly. “Would you care to share any of them with me, Juliet?” he asked quietly.

  They crested the final rise to begin the gentle sloping descent to the gardens and lawn abutting the house. Jonas could see Hastings and Juliet's father, the Marquis of Lansdowne, waiting in the gravel drive. Discounting the circumstances, he had enjoyed this ride back with Juliet, and had especially enjoyed having her nestled in his embrace. He suddenly felt her arms encircle his waist as she hugged him tightly. He was conscious of a sudden that the thin material of his shirt provided scant barrier from the warmth radiating off Juliet. He reflexively sat up straighter in his saddle and returned her tight clasp. He felt a slight tug on his shirt and looked down into her deep and dark velvety eyes, noticing flecks of metallic silver glittering in them. A man could willingly drown in those depths, he mused.

  “I will tell you my secrets since you have taken such tender care of me, and because you kiss me so well,” she began, staring so keenly that Jonas felt she must see into his very soul. He held his breath in anticipation, praying it was a secret he wanted to hear. “I find I am very much looking forward to marrying you,” she confessed in a whisper. “My other secret is still too precious. Penso di essere innamorato di te.” Juliet yawned again and burrowed back into his embrace, her arms firmly wrapped around him, now stroking up and down his back.

  “Tell me again, sweetheart, one more time.”

  “ Penso di essere innamorata di te,” she murmured. “It is my most treasured secret.”

  Jonas was warmed by the revelation of her promising first secret and prayed he could remember the pronounciations well enough to quiz Miranda about her second secret. He repeated the italian phrase over and over until reaching the gravel drive in front of the estate. A secret worth discovering indeed.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Friendship is constant in all things save in the office and affairs of love.

  William Shakespeare, Much Ado About Nothing, Act 2, Scene 1

  Juliet greeted the morning following her riding mishap with three realizations. First, she felt surprisingly well save a tender cut on her head near her hairline and a sore right hip, although her mouth felt uncommonly dry and her tongue thick. Second, she had no idea what happened after Jonas came upon her in the woods. She furrowed her brow in concentrated effort to rouse her memories, which only succeeded in reminding her of her painful cut. Lastly, she realized she was not alone in her bedroom and swiveled her head to see Miranda seated at the window reading. She made a move to sit up but was dismayed to find the room spinning alarmingly. She gave a slight groan and sank back into her pillows. Miranda sprang into action.

  “Welcome back to the conscious world,” she drawled humorously. “You caused quite the dustup yesterday, yet managed to sleep through what I daresay are the most interesting parts.” Miranda walked up to the bed and yanked the pull for Juliet's maid. “Are you feeling more the thing? Are you willing to suffer my help and company in exchange for a report of all the daring deeds of yesterday?” She grabbed her friend's hand in a gentle squeeze as she waited for Juliet's response.

  Juliet swallowed painfully from her thick tongue and dry throat. She gestured to her bedstand then poin
ted to her lips. Miranda followed the mute instruction, pouring a generous glass of water then holding it to Juliet's lips. She drank slowly but steadily, relishing the tepid wetness as it bathed her parched mouth and throat. She nodded her head when finished and Miranda set the half-empty glass back on the stand.

  “Much better,” Juliet rasped, her eyes widening in shock as she heard her rough voice. “And I think I feel fine although I discovered a scratch on my forehead and a soreness to my hip upon wakening. I assume those came from my less-than-glorious dismount from Hera?” she asked, her voice strengthening with use. She reached for the water glass again but Miranda beat her to it, pressing it back to Juliet's lips for another long drink.