Head down, he turned upon his heel away from her. She frowned. He’d seen her, she was certain, and he’d been so interested in her before, so why would he ignore her? Perhaps their ‘engagement’ had done what Blake had hoped and scared him away. That did not stop her pursuing him, though. How much better it would be if she could go to Blake with some firm information,
A pang struck her and she shook her head at herself. Firm information might put an end to their association but it had to be done. After he’d confided in her the other day, she could not cease thinking on the painful thud of her heart. Blake was so much more than a rake and such information only made her love him more. How awful it would be to let herself be swept further into this mess.
“Mr. Foster,” she called, scurrying between two vehicles, and feeling the breeze whip her skirts about her ankles as wheels clattered past. “Mr. Foster.”
He finally stopped and turned, his usual smile slipping into place after a small delay. “Lady Demeter, I did not see you.”
“D-did you not? How strange. I thought you did.”
He motioned for them to keep walking so as not to dally together and she gasped when she spotted the bruise around his eye and swollen lip.
“Mr. Foster, what h-happened to you?”
“Oh a silly accident. Fell from a horse.”
Demeter had seen a few incidents of people—including her sisters—falling from horses but never had they suffered such wounds. it looked more like injuries sustained after a pugilistic match.
“What can I do for you, Lady Demeter?”
She sucked in a breath. Blake thought him dangerous and she had moments when she agreed but the only way to make progress was to be bold. “I’d heard you originally lived in the North, Mr. Foster.”
He came to a sudden halt and the smile fled from his lips. “Did you?”
“Y-yes.” She smiled quickly. “Some vague talk.”
“Why does that interest you, my lady?”
“Well, I was thinking of taking a tour of the area after the Season is finished,” she said quickly, “and I imagined you might be able to tell me where I should visit.”
“My cousin has agreed to this?”
Blast. She’d forgotten they were meant to be married. “Well, not yet, but m-maybe if you can tell me of some lovely places to go, he will be convinced we should honeymoon there.”
Mr. Foster stared at her for several moments and she imagined she heard her heart thud over the sound of passing vehicles. She held her breath and met his gaze while trying to maintain steady breathing. He must not see her lies.
Finally, that smile returned to his lips but his gaze remained strange and searching. “If I were Blake, I would take you on a tour of Europe. The North is grim, my lady, with few beautiful sights. You deserve to see only beautiful things, Lady Demeter.”
“I see,” she said quietly.
She’d visited several towns up north and wasn’t certain she agreed.
His words could be considered flattering, she supposed, but coming from Mr. Foster while his gaze roamed her in an erratic manner made a bitter taste rise in her throat. He left her feeling as though she wanted to flee his presence. Blake would call it instinct, no doubt.
“Well, I h-h-had better make haste, Mr. Foster. I am to meet with a friend.”
He jolted as though awakening from a daydream. “Of course.” He bowed deeply. “Good day, my lady.”
She responded with the quickest of smiles and quickened her pace. Anyone watching would just assume it was Lady Demeter doing her usual vigorous walk, but the feeling of him watching her prickled over her shoulders and made her stomach heavy. She didn’t glance back to see if he really did watch her.
She wasn’t certain she wanted to know.
Once she rounded the corner, she let her shoulders relax and slowed her pace. Asking him about where he’d come from had been a mistake, of that she was certain, but it did confirm that he’d lived there. It was a thread of something—far more than they’d had previously.
Now all she needed to do was—
A hand curled around her arm in a painful grip and tugged her hard into the shadows of an alleyway. Before she could scream, a sweaty palm closed over her mouth.
***
Hammond’s wan pallor sent Blake immediately to his feet and striding to the front door before the butler could utter a word. His gut had been twisting the entire afternoon and he’d put it down to the talk with his mother. He felt as though someone had raked him over a washboard and hung him out to dry.
But it seemed the day was not finished with him yet.
He stalled briefly when he spotted Demeter, taking in the tear upon the sleeve of her gown, the grime on her cream gloves, and the redness around her eyes.
“What the hell happened?” he demanded and she jolted.
Cursing under his breath, he forced himself to steady his expression, clasp her hand and draw her gently through to the drawing room.
“Forgive my language,” he said, urging her to sit on the sofa while feverishly motioning for Hammond to bring something to drink. Hopefully, the butler would get the message and bring something strong for them both.
She plucked a loose button on her glove over and over and her fingers trembled. Blake sank slowly next to her, fighting his urge to make more demands of her. It took all his willpower not to bunch his fists and question who he needed to kill.
“Sweeting?” he asked softly.
Her mouth worked to form the words and he waited while little syllables escaped. He took her hand, looping her fingers between his. “Take your time,” he encouraged.
Demeter twisted slightly to angle herself toward him. “I-I spoke to Michael.”
Ice ran through his veins. He gripped her hand tighter. “What did he do?” he asked, his voice gruffer than intended.
She shook her head. “It w-wasn’t him.”
“Wait.” He touched her chin, raising it so he could view the marks upon her neck. “Demeter...”
“I was on the way here because I wanted to tell you...” She closed her eyes briefly. “I had news but then this man grabbed me and pinned me against a wall. He squeezed my neck. H-hard.”
Any number of curses ran through his mind and how he maintained a cool demeanor he did not know. The only thing preventing him from storming out of the house with a pistol in hand was Demeter’s puffy eyes and trembling limbs.
“What happened?” he forced himself to ask.
Her gaze struck his. “He said ‘tell your man to pay up.’”
Blake struggled to form his next words. He raked his mind. Had he been so careless that he’d wound up in debt and not realized? Were his affairs not in order? Had his accountant defrauded him? He’d been so distracted by Demeter it was a possibility. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d looked at his investments.
If he’d done something to bring this upon Demeter, he’d never forgive himself.
“Demeter...” he started.
“He thought your cousin and I were courting.”
“He said as much?”
She bit down upon her lip. “Do not be angry, Blake.”
“It’s hard not to be. I might have to kill this man.”
He touched her neck again and heat raged through him. How dare someone hurt her? How dare someone threaten her? Demeter’s worst sins were taking money in an honest game of cards from men who supposedly knew what they were doing. She was an utter innocent in all of this and he should never have involved her.
“I went against my instinct and spoke with your cousin and I am sorry. I had information that I wanted—”
“I’m not angry with you,” he hastened to say.
“Oh.”
He couldn’t help but smile. “How could I ever be angry with you?”
She lifted both hands. “Because I ignored my instincts?”
“I’m angry with myself. I should never have brought you into this. It was selfish of me.”
“
No, I’m glad you did,” she protested. “It has been interesting and exciting and—”
“Is that a red carnation?”
She touched the necklace and frowned, where a delicate painted flower nestled amongst intricate gold links. “Yes?”
“They mean love.”
Her throat bobbed. “Well, yes.” Her frown deepened. “But how did you know that?”
He smirked, rose from the chair, and tugged the book on floriography out then handed it to her.
She ran her fingers over the embossed cover. “Why do you have this?”
“I wanted to understand you, Demeter.”
“Oh.”
“Are you in love?”
She eyed the book and pressed her lips together.
He eased down to crouch in front of her. “Because I am.”
Her gaze shot to his. “You are?”
He’d answered without thinking. Without even comprehending the enormity of what he’d just said. Yet it didn’t scare him. He smiled softly.
“Yes.” He took the book from her hands. “With an impossibly bold woman who has a secret life.”
“With…?” She slowly pointed a finger toward herself.
“Yes, sweeting. With you.”
“No.”
He chuckled. “I’m fairly certain I am.”
She shook her head vigorously, sending dark curls bouncing about her cheeks. “Men like you do not love women like me.”
“Attractive, sweet, clever women you mean?”
“Well, no.” She pursed her lips. “I mean, yes. I mean…” She sighed. “I do not know what I mean.”
“I love you, Demeter, so you had better get used to the idea.”
She tilted her head and narrowed her gaze at him. “You really believe you do, do you not?”
Considering he had fought the feeling for quite some time, he was utterly certain now. And if her necklace was anything to go by, she loved him in return. Unless she had some secret lover somewhere, in which case, he was definitely going to end up in a duel.
“I’m not in the habit of lying to myself.”
She chewed on her bottom lip and because it had been far too long since he’d tasted her, he captured her face in his hands, and kissed her.
If his words would not prove it, perhaps his actions would.
She gasped, laced her hands around his neck, and opened her mouth to him. Tremors shook her limbs but he hoped it was from his kiss and not fear anymore. She tasted sweet, as though she had been eating fruit earlier that day, and her tongue twined with his with more passion than he could have ever expected from an innocent woman.
But when had Demeter ever done what he expected of her? It was one of the many reasons he loved her.
Cupping her neck, he leaned into her, pressing her back against the sofa. She fit perfectly against him and his cock strained against his clothes. He kissed her again, firmly, hotly, then eased back.
“You should go home, sweeting,” he said gruffly, unable to let her go fully. “Much more kissing you and I’ll—” He moved back, even though it hurt him to do so, and shoved a hand through his hair. “I’ll have the carriage come around. You’re not walking home alone.” He took her hand briefly. “We’ll decide what to do about Foster soon, I promise. I just need…” He gestured vaguely.
Needed to not be tempted by her. Needed a few moments to grasp the enormity of his own confession, let alone the fact she loved him in return. He had to figure out his next steps. For once in his life, his instincts were leading him nowhere.
She pressed her lips together for a few moments then nodded. There would be time to kiss her later, he assured himself. Properly. In a gentlemanly fashion.
And then he’d persuade her to make this fake engagement real.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Every thud of her heart felt hard, sickening. Blake loved her.
She blinked in the daylight outside of his house, as though she had been cloaked in darkness, in their own secret world of confessions of love. He was right. She should leave. Yet…
Demeter stilled, foot upon the steps up to the carriage, hand in Blake’s. She twisted to look at him and a crease appeared between his brows.
“Demeter?”
“No,” she whispered, placed her foot upon the pavement and turned to head back into the house before he could stop her.
He called her name and followed her all the way past a perplexed butler and into the drawing room. Her pulse thudded so hard she felt it in her fingertips. How could she leave after such a confession? How could she return home and pretend everything was normal? She’d been seeking excitement this Season and here it was, in the form of Blake, but her fear was getting the better of her.
No longer. She nodded toward the door. “Shut it,” she commanded softly.
He did as she bid, the frown still in place.
She didn’t know if his love for her wouldn’t last past today. Hers would always endure. If she had been willing to take this leap with a practical stranger, why would she not with Blake? To love him for so long had been heartache anyway. She simply could not walk away—not without knowing.
“Is something wrong?”
“Yes.”
“Well, what can I do to fix it?” He took a step toward her, the determination in his expression making her smile.
She held up a hand. “Stay there.”
“Stay here?”
“Yes.” She shook her head. “No. Go there.” She motioned to the sofa.
“Go there? Demeter...?”
“Please?”
Shrugging, he settled upon the sofa. She’d thought it might be easier to summon the courage with him seated and in some ways it did. His long legs were spread apart, his elbows set upon his knees. His confused expression made her want to kiss it away. And she would. If she could just get her voice past her hard thudding heart.
Perhaps actions were easier than words.
She started with her hair, setting aside her bonnet, and pulling the flowered comb from it, followed by several pins. Only when she moved to pull away her fichu, tugging it loose from the tight band of her gown, did Blake straighten.
“Demeter, what are you—?”
She tossed it aside and saw his throat bob when she started on the buttons at the front of her bodice.
“Sweeting.” The endearment came out tremulous.
“I had a lover, you know.”
His eyes widened. She paused mid-button. How awful it would be to be semi revealed to him and for him to flee at the news. But he remained, as she’d hoped he would.
“Demeter, why are you telling me this?”
“So you will not refuse me.” She gave a half-smile.
He smirked. “I find it hard to refuse you anything.”
“You already tried to send me away.”
“I’m trying to be a gentleman for the first time in my life,” he replied tightly.
“You are a gentleman, Blake. I know that.”
“There are many who would disagree with you.”
“I’m not going to pander to your ego,” she told him and his smirk grew then fled when she flicked open more buttons.
He rose swiftly and put a hand to hers. “Good Lord, Demeter, not here!”
She stilled, considered the windows looking out onto the road. “Where is your bedchamber?” she demanded.
“I—” Hesitation shadowed his usually confident posture then he took her hand. “This way.”
Demeter hoped he had discreet servants. He ought to considering the rakish life he led. The butler had made himself scarce, perhaps aware where this was leading as Blake led her to a masculine room dominated by a dark canopied bed. She motioned to the bed, her tongue feeling too thick in her mouth to voice the command for him to sit. The interruption had almost cost her her courage.
Almost.
Releasing a long audible breath, Blake slid onto the bed and leaned back, spreading his arms across the pillows. It took all her willpower
not to step forward and kiss him furiously. However, she needed the time to explain—to them both. She couldn’t leave, not without this, but her mind needed to catch up with the demands of her body.
“I had a lover,” she continued, “last Season.”
His jaw worked but he remained silent.
“Being a wallflower was becoming tiring and I was envious of my sisters. Cassie had married and Chastity was falling in love with Valentine. I wanted to experience...something I suppose.”
“I see.”
With all the buttons loose, she shucked her gown off her shoulders, grateful she had not chosen a more complex one to wear today. Blake’s gaze tracked her movements as she shoved it down her hips and let it pool to the floor. She shivered though the room was not cold nor were her undergarments particularly thin. Her nipples hardened against the fabric of her shift and Blake’s gaze lingered there, hot and desirous. Her stomach swirled and between her legs tingled.
Her stays came next after a fight with the laces. She saw Blake’s legs twitch and she suspected he either wanted to aid or stop her. She prayed he did not want to stop her or else her courage might fail. For so long she’d been the wallflower, vanishing until no one noticed her. Today, however, she wanted Blake’s attention entirely on her.
“It was a mistake,” she admitted. “He made promises that I thought perhaps I wanted fulfilled.”
“Bastard,” Blake muttered.
“I am glad now.” She smiled tremulously when she peeled away her stays. “The experience with him was dull and nothing like I had anticipated.”
“I changed my mind. He’s worse than a bastard. The least he could have done was ensured your pleasure.”
“I agree.” She kicked off her shoes and set to work on her stockings. His gaze tracked her movement while she set a foot on a nearby stool and rolled each one down.
“If I were truly a gentleman, I would stop you.” His voice was strained. He tapped his fingers upon the back of the bedframe.
“I do not need a gentleman, Blake. I just need you.”
His protests ceased as she removed the rest of her clothes. Her limbs trembled and her breaths shuddered out of her. She stood in front of him, entirely naked, on offer. This had to be the boldest, the most terrifying thing she had ever done.
Wagers of a Duke's Daughter (The Duchess's Investigative Society Book 3) Page 17
