by Yasmine Nash
“Well then, we’ve both erred,” Louisa said with a laugh. “So I believe we both must forgive each other and move on. As friends now, I hope?”
“As friends,” he agreed in a low voice. Somehow their two bodies had come very close to one another, only a few inches apart.
A sudden wind sprang up from nowhere, whipping Louisa’s shift around her body, highlighting every one of her curves. She felt a chill run through her body, but she wasn’t sure if it was from the wind or from the duke’s eyes, which were now fixing her with that piercing gaze of his. She lowered her own eyes to his mouth and couldn’t help biting the corner of her own full lower lip. Was she imagining it, or were their heads inching ever-so-slightly closer to each other? The smell of cinnamon was getting stronger.
If she wanted to seduce him, now was the perfect time. She should reach up and grab his head and kiss him herself—all for the purposes of her scheme, of course. Not because she suddenly couldn’t think of anything she wanted more than to explore his mouth with her own… Her eyes fluttered closed and she tilted her face up infinitesimally to meet his.
But nothing happened. Louisa’s eyes flashed back open. The sudden frisson between them was gone. Jon had stepped back abruptly, giving her a wide berth and angling his body away from hers. Louisa blinked several times to get her bearings. What had almost just happened?
She had been convinced he was going to kiss her, but now Jon wasn’t even looking her in the eye. Perhaps she had invented the electricity sparking between them and he had become embarrassed by her obvious eagerness. She had offered herself up to him willingly and he hadn’t taken her.
Was there something wrong with Louisa? Was that why Jon was so resistant to her temptations?
“Well, it is getting late,” Jon said, looking increasingly uncomfortable.
Louisa roused herself from her thoughts. She didn’t want him to think his rejection had any effect on her. Because, of course, it did not. “Yes, and now that you know I’m neither a bandit nor a brigand wandering the gardens, you can sleep easily,” she said with a forced smile.
“Quite,” was all Jon said, still not meeting her eye. “Good night then.” And he strode back off into the manor, leaving a confused Louisa watching.
Chapter 8
Jon went straight to his bedroom, grateful he didn’t run into any of the servants along the way. He was of no mind to speak to anyone at the moment. His mind was full of what had nearly transpired with Louisa in the garden. That almost kiss. If he closed his eyes, he could still see her perfect curves spotlighted in the moonlight.
He ran his fingers through his hair and cursed. This time, Jon couldn’t blame his reaction on the alcohol or the thrill of being near a stranger. No, there was an entirely different reason for Jon’s distress, if the tightness at the front of his trousers was any indication: he was attracted to Louisa Kellynch. His ward. Who he was supposed to be responsible for protecting, and yet he had nearly violated her on multiple occasions, including tonight.
Jon had had to forcibly restrain himself from taking that perfect lower lip of hers between his teeth. His nails had dug dark pink semicircles into his palms where he had clenched his fists together to resist the temptation.
He had never known a woman who inflamed his desire so. The other women Jon had been with before had provided pleasurable experiences of course, but he’d never had one take up space in his mind in this way where he found himself aching nonstop with want. Even now, Jon longed stride out the door and into her room, sweeping her into his arms and completing that interrupted kiss. The things he would do to her…
Of course, this response was simply because Jon had never been denied a woman he’d wanted before. This reaction was merely the result of pent-up lust and frustration, but it would surely disappear as soon as sated his desires.
In a way, it felt good for Jon to finally admit the words to himself that he had been denying since he’d run into Louisa on that hill in Haverton. It was quickly becoming clear to Jon that he could not trust himself around her, regardless of the boundaries he put in place. Whether he was cool to her or friendly, it didn’t seem to matter.
Which was exactly why he couldn’t continue torturing himself by remaining near Louisa. Sooner or later, his reserves of strength would break and he wouldn’t be able to hold back anymore. But then what? After indulging, Jon was sure his desire would fade, as it had for the other women he’d been with. And then all that would be left between him and his ward would be growing resentment. No. Better for them both if it never came to that.
Distance. That was what he needed. A little distance would put Louisa from his mind. He had business in London anyway. Nothing urgent, but it would at least provide a distraction. Jon would ride out first thing in the morning and leave Louisa behind with Mrs. Cassidy. And he would be in no hurry to return. When he was clear of her, he’d finally have enough of a cool head to think things through.
But then what? Jon wouldn’t be able to stay in London forever. He would have to return home eventually, where Louisa would be waiting. Jon had promised against the boarding school, and he intended to keep that promise so long as she kept up her end of the bargain.
Perhaps sending her back to Haverton wouldn’t be a bad idea after all. It was what she had wanted, anyway. And he could send Mrs. Cassidy with her, to ensure Louisa didn’t get herself into too much trouble.
Jon would think through all the ramifications later on. For now, he was going to try to get some sleep. He would be leaving at dawn.
* * *
Louisa awoke the next morning feeling oddly nervous. She put more effort than normal into dressing herself for breakfast, while refusing to acknowledge any reason for her extra attention. She changed her gown three times before settling on a pretty sprigged muslin. A final glance in the mirror showed a pretty, round face, her eyes looking unusually large against her pale complexion.
She was just pale because she hadn’t slept well last night. That’s all. She pinched her cheeks for several seconds until they were suffused with a rosy glow.
When she entered the breakfast room, Louisa was disappointed to see only Mrs. Cassidy at the table, a piece of dry toast in the woman’s hands. Louisa didn’t bother to examine exactly why she was disappointed.
“Good morning,” she said to her governess in her most polite voice. She could feel Mrs. Cassidy’s eyes roving from her hair to her gown, as though the older woman could tell how much effort Louisa had put into dressing. Blessedly, she did not comment on it though.
“Good morning,” Mrs. Cassidy responded.
Louisa ate for a few minutes in silence, but before long, she couldn’t stop herself from saying, “Has His Grace already been down to dine this morning? Only, I had a question I wanted to ask him,” she added wildly at the other woman’s questioning look. Louisa didn’t often express interest in the duke’s whereabouts. “About a party we could throw for our neighbors,” she finished, making up the idea on the spot.
Mrs. Cassidy dabbed at her mouth with a napkin. “I believe the duke is away.”
Away, as in meeting with his steward?
One of the footmen, a gangly teenaged boy named Will, entered the room and began refreshing Mrs. Cassidy’s cup of coffee.
“Will, do you know what time His Grace will be returning to the manor this evening?”
The boy looked surprised to be addressed. “No, madam. That is, His Grace won’t be coming back. He left for London first thing this morning. Urgent business, I heard.”
Louisa gaped at the boy a moment. “And he didn’t bother to inform me he was leaving? He didn’t leave me a note or a message?” Anger was beginning to bubble in her chest, along with something that felt suspiciously like hurt.
The poor servant was growing flustered. “I’m sorry, madam,” he began to stutter.
Louisa recollected herself. It wasn’t Will’s fault. He probably had heard about the matter secondhand, the same as she had. “Not to worry,” she
assured him, and Will slipped gratefully from the room before he could be questioned any further.
“Did you know His Grace was planning to leave this morning?” Louisa asked Mrs. Cassidy. “This is the first I’ve heard of this plan.”
For the only time since Louisa had known her, Mrs. Cassidy looked almost uncomfortable. “I only learned of this when I came down to breakfast myself,” she said. “His Grace had left me a few lines in a letter, asking that I watch over you until his return.”
“And when might that be?” Louisa asked, surprising herself by the calm in her voice since her blood was now boiling.
“He did not specify. He did, however, ask that I ensure you’re keeping up on your music lessons.”
Right. He had had the time to give Mrs. Cassidy such a frivolous directive, but he couldn’t be bothered to inform Louisa he was leaving? Louisa stood up and excused herself to return to her room. She was too irritated to eat anything more.
Business had not been the real reason Jon had gone away to London. Louisa was certain of that. She had thought they were finally becoming friends.
Or perhaps even more than friends, a small part of her whispered.
But instead, as soon as the two had shared any sort of understanding, he’d fled. Not only that, but he had left instructions for her governess rather than Louisa.
He was determined to treat her like a child. Well, Louisa was going to show him just how much of a woman she was. An idea had just occurred to her, but she would need to be very careful if she was going to get away with it.
First, she needed to find the butler. She had considered approaching Mrs. Cassidy, but Louisa had determined that the woman’s shrewd gaze might see through her ruse, and that would not do at all.
Louisa happened upon the butler, a short, muscular man with a bald head, in the duke’s library. She pretended to be in search of a book, plucking one at random off a shelf.
“There’s the book Mildred was telling me about,” she said loudly, then she pretended to notice the other man. “Oh, by the way, Thompson, did His Grace leave a direction with you for his London residence?” Louisa spoke with studied casualness, hoping her expression didn’t betray anything. “I’d like to keep him informed of my accomplishments while he’s away. I’m sure he’ll be pleased to learn I’m keeping up with my studies.”
“I’m sure you’re right,” the butler said graciously. “His Grace will be staying where he always does when he visits town, on Park Lane.” Thompson wrote down the exact address for Louisa on a spare piece of paper from the duke’s desk. She thanked him and hurried back to her room.
It was only when Louisa was upstairs that she glanced at the other side of the paper the butler had used and realized it hadn’t been entirely blank. On the reverse of the scribbled address was a single sentence in the duke’s hand.
Follow up with Blake about our conversation regarding the Haverton estate.
That was all. It seemed like a train of thought or a note to himself he’d jotted down and then forgotten about. But it was enough to capture Louisa’s curiosity. What had Jon wanted to discuss, in particular? And now that he was gone, was it possible she would find additional information in his bedroom or study? It was the perfect opportunity, really. She wouldn’t have to worry about the duke walking in on her snooping.
Louisa bit her lip while she pondered. She guessed she wouldn’t have much more time to herself before Mrs. Cassidy came looking for her. But perhaps she could sneak a quick peek around. She cautiously poked her head into the hallway, listening for sounds of the governess or a servant nearby. Silence.
Louisa hurried down the hallway to where she knew Jon’s bedroom stood, although she had never entered it herself. She closed the door behind her once she’d entered it. The room was spacious and furnished in warm bronzes and navy blues. A masculine room. She kept her eyes averted from the bed, but a brief image of an undressed Jon sleeping in it flashed into her mind, causing her cheeks to blaze red. Thank goodness there was no one here to see her!
She felt a little uncomfortable standing in the room, knowing she was invading Jon’s private space. But she tried to tell herself that was nonsense. Jon wasn’t even here!
However, it was difficult to remember that when the smell of cinnamon and brandy still pervaded the air here. The same scents she had noticed on him last night, before they had almost—
Louisa squeezed her palms into fists. She was getting distracted. She had a mission to accomplish, quickly, before anyone found her and she had to explain her presence.
A speedy glance around the room showed her nothing that provoked any immediate interest. No papers or books on his nightstand. The writing desk near the window stood completely empty, except for a few spare pens and a pot of ink. The only possible place she could look was a trunk at the foot of his bed and the large wardrobe along the wall.
She would begin with the wardrobe. There was nothing behind the doors except neatly arranged clothing. She pulled open each drawer, rifling quickly through cravats and cufflinks and pocket watches, feeling more and more guilty with each passing second. Louisa would have been mortified had someone invaded her own privacy like this. She needed to remember her anger from this morning. Louisa thought back to her frustration at being abandoned, letting it fuel her while she searched through the remaining drawers. There was nothing useful.
After another nervous glance at the door, Louisa crouched on the floor and lifted the trunk’s lid. It was filled with notebooks and papers. On closer examination, they proved to be old ledgers, far too outdated to be of any use anymore. Louisa wondered why Jon hadn’t simply thrown these old documents in the fireplace until she realized the name signed onto each one was not Jon’s.
Albert Bartholomew Wallbridge, 9th Duke of Devonshire.
This must be Jon’s father.
Had Jon held onto these papers for so many years, knowing they were no longer necessary, but unable to bring himself to throw away something so closely linked to his father? Louisa’s heart wrenched sadly at the notion.
She was caught up in this line of thought for several minutes when she happened to see a few small papers with the current year written on them. Receipts? Perhaps a servant had been cleaning up and tossed some recent receipts in the trunk to mix with the late duke’s documents by mistake?
The sound of footsteps coming down the hall made Louisa jump. Without thinking, her hand grabbed the receipts and shoved them down the front of her dress. She had only just managed to lower the lid of the trunk and stand back up when the door opened.
It was Mrs. Cassidy.
The governess frowned at the sight of her charge in a man’s bedroom. “I have been looking all over for you. I had almost given it up when I heard noises coming from this room.”
“Oh have you?” Louisa dissembled, hoping she didn’t look as guilty as she felt. “I didn’t realize. His Grace had promised to lend me a biography of Voltaire the other day, but it seems he forgot before he left. According to him, it was quite enlightening. I was hoping I’d find it in here, but unfortunately not. Perhaps I’ll write to him and ask where he left it.”
She was becoming quite the accomplished liar, it seemed.
Mrs. Cassidy was still looking at her somewhat suspiciously, but she didn’t seem prone to argue. Louisa couldn’t blame the other woman, she supposed. After all, Louisa had never before professed an interest in biographies, or Voltaire, or reading in general, if she was being honest.
Mrs. Cassidy didn’t comment on that, however. All she said was, “If you’ve finished, perhaps you’ll join me in the parlor downstairs? You’ve been making such progress on those pillowcases you’re embroidering for that poor family in the village. I know His Grace would feel gratified to learn you’ve completed them.”
Louisa nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, of course. Excellent idea.” She feigned distress. “Oh, but I must take Peppercorn out for a ride first. The poor animal has been neglected lately. She must be so res
tless. Perhaps we can tackle that embroidery this afternoon?”
“But surely the groom can take your horse for a ride?” Mrs. Cassidy countered.
“Peppercorn is so skittish. She becomes quite wild when she hasn’t been ridden for a few days, and in those cases, she only trusts me to take her out.” Louisa threw the governess a brilliant smile. “You’re so kind for understanding.”
“Didn’t you just take her for a ride yesterday?” Mrs. Cassidy asked. “Surely that’s not enough time for the horse to become that skittish.”
Louisa’s smile fell. “I suppose you’re right.” She couldn’t think of any other excuses to avoid the task. “Well, let’s see to those pillowcases then.”
Mrs. Cassidy stayed by Louisa’s side for the rest of the day, so she didn’t have a chance to look through the library as she had the duke’s bedroom. Oh well. There probably wasn’t anything interesting in there either. Instead, she sat in bored silence next to the governess as they did needlework together. Finally, when it was dark, Louisa rose with a feigned yawn.
“I’m off to bed,” she announced. “I think I’ll take Peppercorn out for a ride early tomorrow morning before breakfast, since I didn’t have time today,” she added casually.
Mrs. Cassidy nodded her assent and the pair said their goodnights.
The next morning, Louisa awoke before the sky was completely light. She threw on her riding clothes in a hurry, hoping to be out of the manor before anyone else awoke. She shoved a large fistful of banknotes into a drawstring purse, which she placed carefully around her neck. Did she dare bring a saddlebag with a change of clothes? She wrinkled her nose at the thought of how she would smell if she didn’t. Decided, Louisa shoved a few spare gowns into a small bag. They would wrinkle terribly, but she’d handle that later.
Louisa scribbled a quick note to the governess, placing it on her pillowcase where the older woman was sure to find it if she came looking for Louisa later. She hid the saddlebag with her spare outfits underneath her pelisse while she hurried down to the stables. Thankfully, she didn’t pass Mrs. Cassidy or any servants along the way because the hidden saddlebag had created a lumpy bulge under her coat which she thought the governess’s beady eyes would have been sure to notice.
