The Scandalous Secret 0f The Tempting Duchess (Steamy Historical Regency Romance)

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The Scandalous Secret 0f The Tempting Duchess (Steamy Historical Regency Romance) Page 26

by Scarlett Osborne


  “I am,” she said. “But it is the least he can do after how he treated us all these years. His reputation is no doubt suffering as well, so I doubt he will try to turn us down. My son and I will live a good life at least, being married to a Duke.”

  Matilda could have wept for joy at those words. She knew her sister said them through a bout of strength, wanting to be brave though she was perhaps bothered by the thought of marrying the Duke.

  Oh, how she’s grown.

  “I’m happy to hear that, Elizabeth,” the Viscount said with an obvious look of relief.

  Matilda reached out and took her sister’s hand. She could hardly believe it, but she’d seen her sister grow more in the last few weeks, since the Season started, than in all the time she’d known her. Elizabeth squeezed her hand. Matilda knew exactly what that meant.

  Everything will be all right.

  * * *

  It seemed Timothy showed up at the right time because when he arrived at the Roburg Manor, he was told that everyone was already gathered in the Viscount’s study.

  Timothy walked in to see the love of his life sharing a hearty laugh with her sister and father. They were so caught up in what had been said that it took them a moment to realize that the butler had announced his arrival and that he was standing at the door watching them.

  “Oh, Your Grace!” Miss Elizabeth jumped to her feet, putting a hand to her mouth as she blushed. He supposed she hadn’t expected him to see her laugh with such abandon. “It’s lovely to see you,” she said politely.

  “And you as well, Miss Jones,” he said, hiding a smile. He glanced at Matilda for a second to see that she was beaming at him.

  Goodness, her smile could start wars. How in Heaven’s name did anyone not scoop her up before?

  “You must want to speak with my father alone. I’ll take my leave.” Miss Elizabeth made her way to the door but right before she went through, she murmured, “I wish you all the luck and happiness.”

  It made him smile. Slowly, he made his way over to the seat she had vacated trying not to smile too much at Matilda. Who knew how the Viscount would take such an obvious display of affection?

  “My Lord,” he said by way of greeting as soon as he was seated.

  “Your Grace,” Lord Roburg said. “How kind of you to stop by. Is this a social call?”

  “Somewhat,” he said honestly. “Let me just cut to the chase, My Lord. I came to ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage.”

  In the corner of his eye, he saw Matilda smile broadly, looking expectantly at her father. The Viscount’s ease with her presence while Timothy was here gave him the confidence to say such a thing while she was present and he hoped he hadn’t made a judgment in error.

  “Ah, you want to marry my daughter. Well after your last visit, I would expect that to be your next course of action.”

  “I hope that is a roundabout way of saying you give us your blessings?”

  The Viscount chuckled. “Not so fast, Your Grace. I want to know a few things first.”

  “Oh, heavens, Father,” Matilda murmured to herself. Timothy’s lip twitched into a smile though his heart thumped at what the Viscount could possibly want to know.

  “My daughter can be a bit of a handful. Are you prepared to deal with that?”

  “Father!”

  “Oh, hush now, Matilda. Men are talking.” Amusement shimmered in the Viscount’s eyes as he dismissed his daughter, who sat back in her seat with a huff of disbelief. “She also has a tendency to say exactly what’s on her mind. Do you know that?”

  Timothy smiled. “Yes, My Lord, I am aware. I believe it is a part of her allure.”

  “Ah ha! Good answer, Your Grace. Now, one more question. Do you promise to make her happy?”

  Timothy held his gaze, noting the seriousness in the question despite the shadow of a smile that still lingered. “Until my dying breath.”

  “How poetic,” the Viscount said, which made Timothy smile once more.

  Like father, like daughter.

  “I guess I would look like a terrible person if I were to say no to your marriage proposal then, won’t I? Fine. You two may be wed.”

  “Oh, heavens, Father, you do know how to suck all the fun out of it,” Matilda said.

  The Viscount only barked a laugh. “Then my job here is done. Your Grace, promise me one thing. Tease and bother her every day like I do.”

  “Your Grace, please ignore what my father just said.”

  Timothy didn’t know what to do or say. He’d never seen such a relationship between father and daughter, but he supposed it was only natural. The Viscount’s laidback and easygoing personality and his tendency to joke around whenever he could was a perfect match for Matilda’s outspokenness and blunt behavior. And not for one second did he think either was truly upset at the other.

  The banter went on for a short while before the Viscount seemed to remember that they were before company. “Forgive me, Your Grace. I’ve already begun to think of you as family that I haven’t given a second thought to the things I’ve been saying. You know I’m not normally this uncouth.”

  “I’m happy you are aware of it,” Matilda said as she rose to her feet. “His Grace and I will be taking a walk through the gardens. I’ll ask one of the maids to walk with us. You, Father, continue to sit in here.”

  “Sit in here I shall then.” The Viscount leaned back in his chair and took a sip of his drink, watching them as they made their way to the door.

  With a maid following a little way behind, Timothy and Matilda made their way to the gardens. They said nothing, only shooting each other little glances and smiles. The silence wasn’t broken until they were out beneath the sunshine.

  “I was beginning to wonder how long you planned to wait before presenting your marriage proposal to my father,” Matilda said.

  Timothy only stared at her. Underneath the sun’s rays, she was a vision. Her hair was pinned up with a few loose strands falling around her face. She was a beauty in the face, but, as if she had a feeling he would call on them today, she wore a dress that not only brought out the beauty in her eyes, but formed her body so perfectly, he could hardly think straight. She blinked at him, cocking her head to the side as he stared but he couldn’t bring himself to stop. Lust slammed into him hard and fast and his groin tightened, his breathing growing a little shallow.

  “Timothy?”

  “I cannot wait for us to be wed,” he whispered to her.

  Can the maid hear them?

  He didn’t care. Not when he saw the same lust shining back through her eyes.

  “Why is that?” she murmured back.

  “I cannot wait to have you, to be able to call you mine in body and in name.”

  “Is that so? You look as if you want to ravish me right this moment, Timothy.”

  “I want nothing more than to kiss every inch of your skin and let you know the true pleasure that comes from being together.” And because he couldn’t help himself, not caring one wit about the maid nearby. “Do you want to know something, Matilda?”

  “Always.”

  “The last night we were with each other, I could barely contain myself. I wanted every inch of you and I know you wanted it too.”

  “I did,” she said unabashedly.

  “You will have me soon.” He trailed a finger down her cheek, to her neck. She shuddered slightly at the touch. “Once we are married, I won’t allow you to leave the bed.”

  “Is that a promise, Timothy?”

  “A vow I plan to keep.”

  She smiled broadly and in the next second, her lips were on him. She kissed him heatedly, as if they were alone, as if she wanted him to fulfill that promise to her right there where they stood. And he fell victim to it, wrapping his arms around her waist and pressing her body to his, loving the feel of her breast pressed against his.

  Just as suddenly, she pulled away. “And that, Your Grace, is my vow to you.”

  Chapter 36

>   The days that followed were chaotic. The Duke of Dunstead did come to the manor and Matilda did not have to stand outside the door of her father’s study to hear the shouts that followed such a meeting. Most of it was from her father and though she couldn’t tell exactly what was being said, she knew her father was finally unleashing all the things he’d wanted to say to the Duke in the privacy of the study. They all knew that the Duke would agree to marry Elizabeth. He cared too much about what others thought of him not to.

  Elizabeth kept up her strong appearance. When she met with the Duke in the foyer before he left, she met him in eye. He raked his gaze over her, appraising, as if looking for signs that she had grown ugly or fat over the years. After a while he looked to be pleased with what he saw, making Matilda tremble with disgust. It pained her to know her sister would be bound to such a pig of a person but Elizabeth was courageous about it. If it hadn’t been for that, Matilda would have told the Duke exactly what she thought of him.

  A few days following Timothy’s visit to the manor with his proposal in hand, the Viscountess left her room. She joined the family during breakfast and it was the first breakfast they ever had in complete and utter silence. No one said anything to each other, nor to the Viscountess. Matilda didn’t think it was on purpose.

  Being in her mother’s presence filled her with such anger that she couldn’t bring herself to make conversation like they used to and she expected it to be the same for everyone else. The Viscountess, however, couldn’t last until the end of breakfast. Before it was over, she burst into another fit of tears and left the table, retreating to her room. Matilda hadn’t seen her since.

  Wedding preparations for her marriage to Timothy was already underway but Matilda agreed with her father that Elizabeth should get married as quickly as possible. Even so, her engagement to Timothy had been announced, though she doubted anyone was particularly surprised. Every time Matilda thought of the way he confronted the Duke of Dunstead in her honor, her cheeks grew warm with happiness. She knew those who had spread the news of the truth of Matilda’s scandal had also spread that Timothy was simply smitten by Matilda. Not that she minded in the slightest.

  On and on the days dragged. Matilda was fast growing impatient to see the day of her wedding, even though Timothy made frequent visits and they went to the park, the opera and just about everywhere else together. It was one thing to be with the person she loved, touching him only in ways that were expected of her, but it was another thing entirely to be able to go home to him and have him the way she truly wanted.

  In fact, Matilda thought she just might go mad. After he had whispered those words to her in the garden, she couldn’t stop thinking about it. She imagined every little detail, from the moment he undressed her to the moment he claimed her as his. Her body grew hot at the image and every time she looked at him, she desperately wished that she could really have him in that way. And she knew he thought the same. Unlike her, he wasn’t good at hiding his yearning for her and whenever they were alone together, he could hardly control himself.

  Matilda wasn’t complaining. They continued to meet at nights, encouraged by the lack of supervision it brought. At the gazebo when the town was asleep, they could do whatever. They could say whatever. Matilda was crossed between letting him have his way with her and saving that special moment for their wedding night. They both knew saving was the best, but heavens, it was hard not wanting his hand palming her breast the way it did in what seemed like so long ago. She wanted him to touch her in that place that quivered when he was near, that part that was always begging for his touch.

  Matilda wondered if she was going insane.

  At long last, Elizabeth’s wedding came around and Matilda put thoughts of Timothy aside. Her sister wasn’t smiling the way she should on her wedding day. She only stared at herself in the mirror, and though she looked beautiful, with the way her face was drawn, it was as if she was at her own funeral.

  “Have you been sleeping lately?” Matilda asked her as she handed Elizabeth her bouquet.

  “Do you want me to tell you the truth or do you want me to tell you a lie?” Elizabeth said at a sad attempt to joke.

  “The truth, please,” Matilda said.

  “I have not. The closer it got to this wedding, the less and less I’ve been able to sleep.”

  “Elizabeth.” Matilda took her hands in hers. “If you truly cannot go through with this wedding, just tell Father. I’m sure he’ll understand and he’ll come up with some excuse as to why we have to break it off. I know it may cause some gossip but…”

  “It’s all right, Matilda,” Elizabeth said. She gave her a brave smile. “I know you’re only looking out for me but I’ve made it this far. Besides, I know I’ll be able to do well as the Duchess of Dunstead, don’t you think?”

  Matilda searched her face. Elizabeth’s smile brightened and a glimmer of the old Elizabeth shone back at her. She smiled back and kissed her on the cheek. “You will do brilliantly.”

  That was the last thing that was said between them. Matilda stood by Elizabeth’s side as the wedding commenced, waiting and ready to step in whenever her sister needed her. But true to her word, Elizabeth played her role brilliantly. She smiled at the guests and her husband, laughed as if she was truly happy, and Matilda hoped it wasn’t all for show.

  Yet, at the end of the day, she knew her sister would be all right. Matilda had spent all her life trying to protect Elizabeth that she had failed to see how strong she truly was.

  “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”

  Matilda went rigid at her mother’s voice. She didn’t look at her but she didn’t move away either.

  “I don’t expect you to forgive me, Matilda,” her mother murmured to her. “Neither do I expect Elizabeth to. I know what I did was unforgivable. But I can’t be shut out like this. Even when I had gone a little out of my mind and sank into my mind, you were always there with me. Sitting by my side. Can it not be like that again?”

  Matilda looked at her, wide-eyed. “I’m surprise you have the audacity to ask.”

  The Viscountess looked sadly away. “Will you at least try to understand me then? Understand why I did what I did?”

  Matilda’s gaze deepened with disbelief. “You truly do not understand, do you, Mother? There is no understanding such a thing. You did what you did because you were too selfish to do otherwise. Without thinking of how this could affect your own daughters, you went ahead and attempted to ruin their lives. No, Mother. I think you are the one who should be trying to understand why we cannot forgive you.”

  She nearly walked away but before she did something else occurred to her. “You still don’t believe what you did was wrong.”

  “Of course I do!”

  “No, you don’t,” Matilda said strongly. “Because if you did, you wouldn’t be wasting your time trying to convince me that I should understand anything.”

  And she left it at that. Matilda had spent many hours thinking about what she should do with her mother. It pained her to sever relations with her, especially when she remembered how close they used to be. But those days were over and until she could look at her mother’s face and not feel the brunt of the wrongs done to her, Matilda didn’t think mending the relationship was possible.

  For now, she planned to leave her mother alone. Soon enough, she would be moving in with the Duke of Brentminster, free to start the life her mother had tried so hard for her not to have.

  The rest of the wedding passed amicably. Matilda found herself watching her father more than usual, noting little things that she hadn’t noticed before. Like the way his eyes gazed into that of another lady for a second too long. Or the way he joked much more than usual when a beautiful lady was around. Things she had overlooked she now saw as clear as day.

  Her mother was perhaps right about the fact that her father had been unfaithful to her. But Matilda refused to let her father’s actions bother her. She was much too old for such things. So she ignored the lin
gering looks and the hearty laughs, preferring to focus instead on the fact that, despite it all, he had been a wonderful father.

  Slowly, her eyes drifted over to Timothy. They had remained proper, remaining a decent amount of distance and only dancing with each other when appropriate. But their eyes always sought the other and at that moment, Matilda caught him when he wasn’t looking at her. He was caught up in a conversation he was having with another lord.

  What sort of father will he be?

  Images of them together, in a garden she had nurtured on her own as they watched their children play flashed in her mind, bringing a smile to her face. She could picture them holding hands, or her head on his shoulder as they watched the fruit of their love. A peaceful and happy life they would live. Matilda had no doubt.

 

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