No Other Duke But You--A Playful Brides Novel

by Valerie Bowman

  “Wedding?” Lucy asked, her eyes wide.

  “Yes, Delilah is going to be Lord Clarence Hilton’s bride.”

  “Egad,” Lucy had replied, eliciting an angry glare from Mother before she quit the room, leaving Delilah and Lucy alone. Delilah had just finished telling the duchess the entire tale.

  Lucy shook her head. “Dear, it’s no laughing matter. This is all quite serious. I cannot think of a reason in the world why your mother would prefer Clarence Hilton to Thomas. It makes no sense.”

  “My guess is that she doesn’t want to disappoint her new fiancé, Lord Hilton.”

  “Yes, dear, but even Lord Hilton should understand why a mother would choose a wealthy duke over a future earl who may be a bit light in the pockets.” At Delilah’s questioning look, Lucy continued, “I’ve heard rumors. Now, we must think of a way to convince your mother to allow Thomas to court you, at least.”

  Delilah sat up straight. Had she heard Lucy correctly? “Thomas cannot court me.”

  Lucy took a sip of her heavily sugared tea. “Whatever do you mean? Of course he can.”

  “I mean, he only thinks he’s in love with me because he’s been enchanted by a perfume. It’s utterly ridiculous. Meanwhile, I’m betrothed to a man who makes me shudder every time I’m in the same room with him. I’d toss myself off a cliff, but I fear that’s too dramatic.”

  “It’s far too dramatic, dear. There are much simpler and less gruesome ways to deal with problems. But I don’t understand why you don’t want Thomas to court you. You cannot mean you’d rather marry Clarence?”

  “Of course not,” Delilah replied, “but I’m not about to trick Thomas into marriage only to save myself from Clarence. I’ve done enough damage to Thomas. I won’t use him to save my own skin.”

  Lucy blinked at her. “I suppose that’s somewhat noble of you, dear, but I’m not certain how I can be of any help. What would you like me to do?”

  Delilah thought for a moment. “While I don’t want Thomas to court me, I do need to be alone with him so I can explain what happened. With the perfume, I mean. I owe it to him to tell him the truth. Perhaps he’ll be able to overcome the spell if he knows the potion is what’s making him think he loves me.”

  Lucy shook her head and took another sip of tea. “I seriously doubt that, dear. If it were that simple, Madame Rosa would have told you.”

  Delilah hugged a throw pillow to her chest. “I know, but I have to try, and Thomas deserves the truth.”

  “Very well,” Lucy replied. “I’ll help you get alone with him.” A slow smile curved her friend’s lips. “Your mother mentioned she’s in the market for a new chaperone for you, didn’t she? I happen to know the perfect candidate. Her name is Mrs. Bunbury.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  The next morning, Lucy took Delilah riding in the park. Ostensibly, the trip was to meet the elusive Mrs. Bunbury, so Mother allowed Delilah to go. It didn’t hurt that Mother was entirely preoccupied with the wedding planning. That, and Lucy had spent a considerable amount of time picking discreet friends who hurried over to Delilah’s house and told Lady Vanessa that Mrs. Bunbury was the most strict, rigid chaperone who ever drew a breath. The plan had worked perfectly, and Lucy had arrived later, claiming a connection to the woman in question and promising to take Delilah to meet her posthaste.

  They pulled up in Lucy’s coach to a secluded area behind Rotten Row. Thomas’s curricle was stopped behind a large hedgerow. Thomas sat in the driver’s seat, an inscrutable expression on his face. Delilah jumped down and rushed over to him. Thomas grinned at her. He looked as handsome as always, and Delilah’s heart gave a little flip as he reached to help her up into the curricle.

  “Don’t be more than an hour, loves,” Lucy called, waving her gloved hand. “Mrs. Bunbury has plans this afternoon.” She threw back her head and laughed as her coach took off toward the entrance to the park.

  “I’m glad you could get away,” Thomas said as soon as Delilah had settled herself and her skirts on the seat next to him.

  She turned to face him and put her hand on his sleeve. “Listen, Thomas, I need to tell you something. Something important.”

  “Very well, but first I have to ask you…” His smile faded a little. “Why are you engaged to Clarence Hilton? How did that happen?”

  Delilah sighed. “It’s my own fault. When I came home from the house party without an engagement to Branville, Mother insisted I marry Clarence.”

  Thomas cocked his head to the side. “I hear Branville is courting Lady Rebecca.”

  Delilah nodded. “I’m not surprised. He told me he fancied her, but I thought she was set on you.”

  “After the performance at Lucy’s estate, I told Lady Rebecca that I didn’t return her affections,” Thomas continued.

  Delilah stared unseeing at her lap. “I truly wish you hadn’t done that.”

  “It would be cruel to lead her on.” He curled a finger under Delilah’s chin and lifted it to meet her eyes. “Look, Delilah, there are other choices, you know? Besides Branville and Clarence. Like me, perhaps.” He searched her face, all the humor gone from his expression.

  Delilah’s eyes filled with tears. She reached up and placed her palm against his warm, familiar cheek. “Oh, Thomas. I wish I could pick you.”

  He pressed her hand against his cheek. “Why can’t you?”

  She pulled away and plucked absently at her skirts. “Because I … I know you’ll laugh at me, but … remember that potion I bought to use on Branville?”

  Thomas nodded. “Given his courtship of Lady Rebecca, I’m assuming it didn’t work on him.” The hint of a smile passed over his face.

  “It didn’t,” she breathed, “because I didn’t use it on him.”

  “Thought better of it?” Thomas prompted.

  “No. I tried. But I…” Oh, she couldn’t tell him. It was too ridiculous, and she was too guilty. Besides, she knew he wouldn’t believe her. He’d always thought the potion was silly. She normally told Thomas all manner of ridiculous things, but she couldn’t bring herself to tell him this. It was too painful. It was the difference between Thomas loving her or not, and that made her heart wrench.

  “Delilah, listen, forget about the potion,” he said urgently. “The potion doesn’t matter. It was madness to begin with.”

  “You’re right about that. I wish I’d never even heard about Cupid’s Elixir.”

  “Will you let me court you?” he asked. “Your mother doesn’t have to know.”

  She furrowed her brow. “I don’t understand. What good will that do?”

  “You deserve a proper courtship and … I love you.”

  Her breath caught. “No. You don’t.” She glanced away from his handsome, beloved face. Mon Dieu. Her heart was in a vise.

  “Let’s not argue about it. Spend time with me. I promise we’ll have fun. You cannot tell me you’d rather be courted by Clarence Hilton.”

  She shook her head and managed a smile. “You’re right. I’d much rather be in your company.”

  “Excellent. We won’t call it courting. It’ll merely be … two friends spending time with each other.”

  That seemed perfectly reasonable. She brightened. “Very well. What will we do first?”

  He grabbed the reins and shook them out. “Go for a ride in the park, of course.”

  * * *

  Thomas couldn’t sleep. He slid out of bed and made his way to the window, where he nudged open the curtain and stared down into the darkened gardens behind his town house. After spending a delightful hour in the park with Delilah today, he’d returned her to the meeting spot with Lucy and gone about his regular business the remainder of the afternoon, but he’d been entirely unable to concentrate.

  He still hadn’t told Delilah that he’d switched rooms with Branville. What would be the use? There was no value in trying to reason with her about the elixir. The elixir was ludicrous, and any discussion about it would only be a fool’s argument. The point
was that he loved her, he’d told her he loved her, and he’d meant for her to realize that she loved him too. Instead, the plan had failed, and she was preoccupied by the notion that the damned elixir was the reason he loved her. He should have seen this coming.

  Now, he was in a bind. He could tell her he’d changed rooms on purpose, but that wouldn’t prove to her that the elixir didn’t work. If anything, she might just be angry with him for thwarting her plans. He had to get her to stop thinking about the elixir and focus on him and their feelings for each other. To that end, Thomas intended to court her. Properly.

  When Delilah was a girl, she’d been filled with dreams of courtship. He remembered her talking about it longingly, heavily interspersed with the word j’adore. Something had happened to make her stop believing in that dream for herself. Most likely something her mother had said. But he wanted to give that dream back to her. The Duke of Branville hadn’t courted her, and Clarence Hilton surely wouldn’t. Delilah deserved a proper courtship—one with flowers and chocolates and rides in the park—and by God, Thomas was going to give it to her.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  The first thing Thomas did was to take her on a picnic in the park the next day. Lucy arranged it courtesy of the ever-available Mrs. Bunbury. When Delilah arrived at the assigned spot—a grassy knoll in a secluded part of the park—she found a veritable feast had been spread out along a wide quilt on the soft grass. Pink roses lined the perimeter of the blanket, filling the air with their sweet scent. Thomas stood in front of the spread, smiling his irresistible, and oh-so-familiar smile.

  “What is all this?” she asked, stopping short and blinking tears from her eyes.

  He bowed. “For you, my love.”

  A thrill shot through her when he called her my love. It wasn’t real, of course, but she could pretend. And she desperately wanted to.

  Thomas jogged over to her, took her hand, and brought it to his mouth for a kiss. Then he tugged her gently behind him as he led her toward the picnic arrangements.

  He waited until she was settled upon the quilt, her skirts billowing out around her, before he took a seat beside her. He discarded his coat and hat before he began serving her the cheese, bread, grapes, olives, and slices of meat that were spread out before them. Delilah removed her bonnet too. Then she slipped off her shoes and rubbed her stockinged feet along the pillowy softness of the quilt. It felt completely decadent, and she adored it.

  Thomas grinned at her and handed her a full plate. She ate tentatively at first. But then she realized she was in the company of the person she’d always felt the most at ease with, and that hadn’t changed, despite the mistake she’d made with the elixir.

  They spent the next hour talking and laughing about all manner of things just as they always had, and Delilah was able to forget for a while that she had caused a significant change between them.

  Setting her empty plate aside, she leaned back and braced her arms behind her, palms down. She closed her eyes and tilted back her head to allow the sunlight to bathe her face. “It’s so lovely being with someone who isn’t constantly criticizing me.”

  Thomas was silent until Delilah finally raised her head and looked at him. His jaw was tightly clenched, and anger lined his features. “Your mother struck you, didn’t she?”

  Delilah tilted her head back again, suddenly self-conscious about her cheek that was still slightly bruised.

  “Tell me the truth, Delilah.” His voice was a low growl.

  “I shouldn’t have been in that play. I knew it would make her angry.”

  Thomas cursed under his breath. “Damn it, Delilah. Stop making excuses for her. She had no right to strike you, no matter what you did. And while we’re on the subject, I cannot fathom why she would discard my suit so quickly in favor of Clarence Hilton, of all people. At the risk of sounding like a braggart, I must be more eligible than he is.”

  Delilah sat up straight again and plucked one of the pink roses from the side of the blanket. She twirled the thornless stem between her fingers. “I wondered about it too,” she admitted. “Mother must hold a grudge against you from when we were children. Perhaps the pebbles on the window were more vexing than we thought.” She tried to smile, but Thomas did not join her.

  “It makes little sense,” he replied. “I hate to say it, but my guess is that she’s doing it purely to spite you.”

  Delilah blinked. “Surely not—”

  “I can think of no other explanation. Can you?”

  Delilah lifted the rose to her lips and inhaled its light fragrance. “As I told Lucy, perhaps she doesn’t want to disappoint Lord Hilton. He is her fiancé now, you know.”

  A look of mild disgust crossed Thomas’s features. “You give her more credit than I do.”

  Wanting to change the difficult subject, Delilah moved closer to him and grabbed his hat from the quilt beside him. She placed it atop her head and pulled it down to cover her eyes then tilted up her chin to give him a coquettish stare. “How do I look? Like a snobbish duke?”

  Thomas laughed and leaned over to snatch the hat from her head, but Delilah lunged backward and he followed, toppling over onto her.

  Catching her breath, she glanced up into his face. It immediately turned serious. The hat had rolled away from her head, and Thomas braced both of his forearms on either side of her shoulders, searching her face intently.

  Her heart pounding madly, Delilah reached up to pull him down atop her more fully. She wanted to feel every inch of his hard body against hers. His mouth swooped down to capture hers, and she threaded her fingers through his hair, clutching him against her.

  “Delilah,” he breathed against her mouth.

  She lifted her chin again, and he kissed her throat and her neck before moving lower to her décolletage. He showered kisses along the tender flesh above her bodice, and his hand came up to rub against her breast on the outside of her gown.

  “Can I touch you here, Delilah?” he asked. “With my mouth?”

  Heat exploded between her legs, and she nodded eagerly. “Yes,” she breathed.

  He gently tugged down her bodice, and his lips moved to cover one nipple, gradually sucking it into his mouth. His tongue lavished the tip, and she sobbed in the back of her throat. It felt so good. So amazingly good. And shameless wanton that she was, she didn’t want him to stop.

  Her hands clutched his shoulders, and her legs moved fitfully against the soft blanket. It was a dream come true. She was lying in the sunlight, surrounded by pink roses, while the man of her dreams made love to her.

  She moved her hand down to touch the outline of his manhood beneath his breeches, and Thomas swiveled his hips away. He pulled his mouth from her breast and pressed his forehead hard against hers, giving a shaky laugh.

  “Why won’t you let me touch you?” she asked, disappointment lacing her words.

  “Love, I’d like nothing more, but this is for you.” He gingerly wiped a curl from her forehead, before reclaiming her lips in another captivating kiss.

  Minutes later, Thomas gently pulled up her bodice and rolled away from her. “We must stop before we get carried away.”

  “I’m already quite carried away,” Delilah replied with a laugh. She stared up into the blue afternoon sky and stretched like a cat. Then she gathered more of the pink roses and let them fall atop her.

  “Have you enjoyed our picnic?” Thomas asked, sitting up next to her and tracing the edge of her cheek.

  “So much,” she replied, rubbing her cheek against his hand.

  “I’m glad,” he replied. “This is the type of courtship you deserve.”

  She pushed herself up on one elbow. “Oh, but we’re not—”

  “Will you go to the theater with me tomorrow night? Lucy will accompany us.”

  Delilah didn’t want to stop pretending, so instead of finishing her sentence, she nodded and said, “I would love to go to theater with you tomorrow night.”

  “Excellent.” Thomas stood, pulle
d her to her feet, and helped to right her clothing. He leaned down and grabbed her bonnet from the quilt and placed it atop her head and tied the ribbon beneath her chin. “You’re beautiful,” he said, stroking the tip of her nose with the end of his finger.

  “No, I’m not.” She nudged at the roses with her foot.

  He stopped, lifted her chin with his finger, and stared deeply into her eyes. “Delilah, listen to me. You’re beautiful and always have been … inside and out.”

  Tears stung her eyes. She turned away, pretending to be occupied helping him clear away their picnic. Thomas had always loved her as a best friend should, but now, now things were different between them, and she couldn’t help but wish they were real. What she’d done here today had been nothing short of shameless. She’d allowed him to kiss her and touch her, knowing he was only doing it because he was enchanted. She’d selfishly wanted it and allowed him to continue. How would she ever explain this to him when he realized the truth?

  She blinked away the tears. “I should get home. Mother will be waiting for me.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  The next night, Delilah accompanied Thomas to the theater with a group of friends including Lucy and Derek, Cass and Julian, and Jane and Garrett. When they arrived and situated themselves into Claringdon’s box, a small group of the theatergoers who’d attended the performance in the country gave them a standing ovation.

  They stood and bowed and blushed appropriately before settling in to watch a performance of Much Ado About Nothing.

  When the play was over, Jane and Garrett launched into an argument about whether Beatrice or Benedick was the more clever of the two main characters in the play. Lucy rolled her eyes and exclaimed, “Neither of them ever wins this argument. They’ve been having it for years.”