by Amelia Grey
“You can’t, Your Grace,” his mother said in a tone that left him no room for argument. “You lost that right when you accepted her brother’s dying plea.”
“Yes, the vow. How could I forget?”
“Keeping your word is not supposed to be easy. Integrity would have no value if there were no effort associated with it. Now, I’m headed home. Enjoy the rest of your evening, Your Grace.”
Bray watched his mother walk away. There was never a greeting kiss on the cheek or a parting hug between them, because sadly, there was no love. Mutual respect was the strongest emotion they shared.
Watching his mother’s regal, retreating back, Bray realized he’d never seen his mother cry. There must have been times in her life when she’d wept, but Bray knew nothing about them. He’d known Miss Prim for only a few weeks, and already he’d seen her eyes filled with tears twice. When she thought he’d deliberately kept Saint from them and today, when she looked at the area where her brother had died.
Both times, he’d been angry with himself for being the cause of her tears.
Without further thought, Bray knew what he had to do. He placed his glass on a nearby table and went to find Mrs. Colthrust. He was stopped three different times by people to make conversation, but he managed to keep the exchanges short, and by the time he reached the chaperone, she was talking to Harrison, and Miss Gwen was talking with a young Italian count who seemed pleased that she could converse in his language.
After appropriate greetings, Bray said, “You and Miss Gwen are looking lovely this evening, Mrs. Colthrust.”
The woman gave him a dazzling smile and fanned herself. “Thank you, Your Grace. We’re so glad you noticed.”
“I couldn’t help but see that Miss Prim isn’t with you?”
“Oh, I know, and it is your fault, Your Grace.”
“Mine?” he said, feeling a stab of alarm in his chest.
“Yes, she told me that you arrived shortly after Gwen left and insisted on taking her and the girls to the park for an afternoon outing to see a puppet show. Apparently you were not careful, and she spent too much time in the sun. Said she had a headache and felt quite dizzy and wasn’t up to a night of dancing.”
Relief washed over Bray. For a moment, he’d thought Mrs. Colthrust was going to tell him that Louisa was upset over visiting the place where her brother had died.
“I’m sorry to hear that. Please give her my apology and my regards when you return home.”
“Shall do, Your Grace.”
Bray looked at Harrison and said, “If you’ve had enough dancing for one evening, why don’t we head over to White’s for a game of cards?”
“I’m all for that.”
Bray and Harrison said their good-byes to Mrs. Colthrust, Miss Gwen, and the count and headed for the entrance. While they waited for the attendant to get their cloaks, Bray said, “I’m afraid I used you as a decoy, Harrison.”
Harrison frowned. “I suppose I’m not opposed to that, but how so?”
“I am not going to White’s with you tonight, but I do need you to leave the party with me and go to the club or somewhere after we part.”
“Because?”
“I didn’t want to make Mrs. Colthrust suspicious by leaving alone immediately after finding out that Miss Prim is not here.”
“Ah.” Harrison nodded. “And Miss Prim is home alone, I gather.”
“With sisters and servants, I suppose she is never alone, and before you ask, yes, that is where I’m headed. I hope you don’t mind.”
Bray had no way of knowing if Miss Prim herself or one of the servants would come to the door, but at this point, he didn’t care. He hoped he was right in thinking that Louisa wouldn’t go to bed until she knew Gwen was home from the parties.
He wanted to see Louisa and make sure she was all right.
“Well, I do feel used,” Harrison said with a teasing smirk. “And take my word for it, it’s not so easy to jump from a bedroom window now as it was when we were younger.”
“I appreciate the concern, but I don’t plan to be jumping from any windows.”
But he wasn’t sure Louisa didn’t feel like pushing him out of one.
Chapter 22
We cannot fight for love, as men may do;
We should be wooed, and were not made to woo.
—A Midsummer Night’s Dream, act 2, scene 1
Louisa lay curled on the settee in the drawing room, her head propped on a pillow and the lamp on the table beside her burning low.
Feeling wretched by the time she’d returned home from the park, Louisa quickly said good-bye to the duke with hardly a glance in his direction. She immediately shut herself in her bedroom but soon realized that if she were alone, she would end up crying her eyes out and everyone in the house would know it, so she hurried down the stairs and stayed busy with the younger girls until she put them to bed.
Later, when it was time to dress for the evening’s parties, she had no choice but to plead a headache from too much sun. She simply wasn’t up to going out and pretending to enjoy herself.
Louisa needed time to be alone and ponder not only all the emotions stirred inside her from talking with the duke about Nathan and the night he died, but also her womanly desires for the duke. She hadn’t been able to shake them. Every time he kissed her, she wanted him to kiss her again. It seemed so unfair that he had ended up being the man of her dreams. He didn’t love her and she doubted he was capable of loving any woman. But she knew now that she wanted him to love her.
She’d believed him when he said that if she asked him to, he would marry her and fulfill his vow to her brother. And when she was in his arms kissing him, she was thinking she would very much like to be his wife so she could love him with all the feelings she had inside her—but could she really do that to him?
And would it be fair to her sisters? She’d watched him cringe every time one of the girls screamed, and seen how annoyed he was when Sybil cried. He’d looked as if he were about ready to chew nails into powder from their incessant talking when they were in the park. She could allow him to continue being their guardian, but could she subject him to living with her sisters on a daily basis and making a home with them?
She would not live without them, no matter how much she loved the duke.
In time, she would forget about his stimulating kisses, caresses, and embraces. She would keep telling herself she didn’t love him, couldn’t love a man like the Duke of Drakestone.
But she did.
Louisa had changed into her nightrail earlier in the evening, thinking she would go to bed. And she had for a few minutes, before she was up and donning her robe again. She didn’t know what was wrong with her. All afternoon, all she’d wanted to do was be by herself and cry, and yet when the house went quiet and she was alone in the safety of her room, the tears wouldn’t flow.
Her body was tired and weary, but her mind was as active as ever. She decided she wouldn’t try to sleep again until after Gwen and Mrs. Colthrust returned home. Maybe then she would finally be able to rid herself of the miserable feelings. Thankfully, Mrs. Colthrust hadn’t given her any trouble about wanting to stay home.
Only a little warmth emanated from the fireplace, but Louisa didn’t care that the drawing room was chilled. She snuggled deeper into her robe and tucked her long hair around her neck. Louisa had insisted that Mrs. Woolwythe and the other maids go to bed so she could be alone, but they wouldn’t until all the fires had been banked and all lamps but the one Louisa was using had been extinguished.
She lay in the semidarkness, wondering how different her life would have been had her parents lived, if Nathan were still alive. She would probably be married by now, maybe with a babe of her own. She wouldn’t be responsible for her sisters. Tears of sorrow for the loss of her parents and Nathan as well as her own lot in life puddled in her eyes, and just as she was thinking they would spill down her cheeks so she could release her pent-up emotion and weep in earnest, she
heard a noise that sounded like a light knock. She sat up and strained her ears to listen. It would be horrible if Bonnie, Sybil, or Lillian came running in and caught her crying like a baby.
The knocking came again.
Louisa wiped her eyes with the back of her hands and scoffed a rueful laugh as she swung her feet off the settee and rose. She should know better than to think she had time to cry. She picked up the lamp and walked into the vestibule to go abovestairs to check on the girls. Halfway up the stairs, she heard the knocking again and realized it was on the front door.
It couldn’t be Gwen and Mrs. Colthrust back so soon. And they wouldn’t knock, unless someone had accidentally locked them out. Louisa set the lamp on a table and walked to the door, opening it only enough to peek out.
“Your Grace,” she said, her heartbeat racing at the sight of him. He was handsomely dressed in his evening attire, and she was most inappropriately dressed in her nightclothes. She immediately grabbed the lapels of her robe in her hand and tightened the garment around her.
He pushed the door wide and walked inside, closing it behind him. He laid his hat and gloves on the table by the lamp and asked, “Where are the servants?”
“I sent them all to bed some time ago. You shouldn’t be here this time of night, especially with me dressed as I am.”
“This isn’t the first time I’ve done something inappropriate, Louisa, and it won’t be the last. Where are your sisters?”
“Asleep. Why? And what are you doing barging into my house?”
“I came for this.” He gently pulled her to him, circling her back with his strong arms, and hugged her close to him. He laid his cheek on the side of her head and whispered, “I had to make sure you’re all right.”
Despite her intentions, Louisa’s body betrayed her, and she melted against the warmth of the duke’s hard chest.
“I’m fine,” she whispered back, glad her face was hidden in his waistcoat when she fibbed. She wasn’t fine, but oh how the comfort of his embrace made her feel better.
“I don’t think you are, Louisa. I feel your body trembling.”
“It’s cold,” she managed to say, knowing that was only half a fib.
He picked up the sides of his cloak and wrapped them around her, cocooning her into his embrace. She tried to pull away, but he held her to him. She had been at the point of crying all afternoon, and she feared receiving his kindness and concern now would push her over the edge.
He held her tighter and kissed the top of her head. “You might as well be still,” he said softly. “I am not going to let you go.”
She swallowed hard and stopped struggling.
After a few moments, he said, “I want you to know that I’m sorry your brother died.”
“No, please don’t tell me that,” she said. She didn’t want to talk about the accident. She didn’t want to go through the pain of talking about Nathan again.
“I have to. I wanted to this afternoon. You must know, if I could go back and change that night, I would.”
Louisa shook her head, choking back tears and trying to cry silently, as she had at the park, so he wouldn’t know. His heartfelt sympathy was draining what little control she had of her emotions.
“I should have told you a long time ago.” He kissed her temple and the edge of her eye while he ran his hands soothingly up and down her back. “I would take his place so he could be here with you and your sisters if I could.”
“I don’t want to hear that. Please, let me go, please,” she begged, despair filling her. She struggled to get free again, knowing she couldn’t deny herself the relief that comes from crying, but not wanting him to see her cry.
The duke held her tighter, cupping her head to his chest, forcing her to accept the comfort of his arms and his words. “I’m not letting go, Louisa.”
“You must,” she said between choking breaths.
“You don’t know how badly I wanted to hold you this afternoon and comfort you like this.”
As if those were the magic words, the words she’d longed to hear for two years, the tears started flowing and her body started shaking. She knew she was being lifted into his arms and carried, but she no longer wanted to struggle. She snuggled deeper into his embrace, hiding her face in his waistcoat again, and wept as she had never wept before.
Louisa didn’t know how long she cried before the sobs, shaking, and sniffling faded. Her throat hurt and her breathing was labored, but inside, she felt better than she had in a long time.
As she calmed, she noticed they were in the drawing room on the settee and she was sitting on his lap. And she had on her nightclothes! That was definitely not proper behavior for a young lady, but she didn’t move. She wanted to stay forever with her cheek pressed to the duke’s chest, hearing his heartbeat and feeling his arms wrapped tightly around her.
She took in a deep shuddering breath and lifted her head to look at him.
“You can use my handkerchief,” he said, brushing her hair away from her damp face. There was a little light from the corridor shining into the room, but Louisa didn’t have to see his face and eyes clearly to know he was smiling warmly at her. She heard it in his voice.
“Thank you.” She took the handkerchief.
“Do you feel better now?”
She nodded. “How did you know I needed to cry?”
“It was more that I knew I wanted to hold you.”
His words touched her heart. For all his bluster and complaining, he realized what no one else seemed to know: She needed to be held. And she was glad it was the duke who’d figured that out.
“I’ve heard it said that a kiss can make something that’s hurt feel better,” he said.
“I’ve heard it, too. Have you ever tried it?”
“No. Do you want to?”
“Yes,” she said softly.
He placed his hands on each side of her face and looked into her eyes as if to ask her if she was sure. She wound her arms around his neck. He bent his head, and his lips found hers and moved tenderly, sweetly, briefly over them before he raised his head and looked into her eyes once more. “Did it work?” he asked.
“I don’t think the kiss was long enough. Perhaps we should try it again.” She placed her lips on his, and the kiss started the same way as before—slow, soft, a lightly brushing of their lips together. The contact was delicate, feathery, and enticing.
The moments ticked by. The longer they kissed, the more kisses she wanted. She opened her mouth, and his tongue explored it with eager yet soothing strokes. His hands moved down her chest. He parted her robe, and his palm molded over the fullness of one breast, lightly squeezing and caressing. Her nipple stiffened beneath his gentle touch. Louisa moaned her approval and leaned into his hand, enjoying the exquisite feeling. Tremors and shivers tingled all the way down to her abdomen to gather and settle between her legs.
Louisa relaxed and let go of the tight control she’d always kept on the passion she felt for the duke. Without thinking, she shifted and adjusted her legs so that she straddled him. She heard his hissing intake of breath at her movements. He deepened their kiss as she settled her bottom on his lap.
The duke trembled, and she realized he was as affected by these wonderful cravings as she was. His arousal thrilled her almost as much as his touch.
While his mouth and tongue ravaged hers hungrily, her hands roved through his thick, luxurious hair. She pressed him closer, gaining confidence in what she was doing, reading the desire she knew he felt for her and she for him.
“Your nightdress is so thin, it’s almost like touching your bare skin,” he whispered into her mouth as he fondled her breast.
“I love the feel of your hands on me,” she answered.
He chuckled as his fingers searched for and found her nipple again, hidden beneath her cotton gown. At his caressing, it puckered and rose once more. Ripples of desire tightened across her breasts and sent pleasure sweeping down her body again to resettle into her most womanly
part.
Their tongues swirled in each other’s mouths as he untied the ribbon at her throat and parted her gown. He shoved one side of her robe and gown off her shoulder and slid them down her arm. He lowered his head and caught her nipple in his warm mouth and sucked.
She gasped and her stomach tumbled with expectancy as the awareness sent chills of pleasure skipping along her spine. Her head fell back and her chest arched forward and she enjoyed the glorious sensations. His lips moved up to kiss her shoulder, the crook of her neck, and her chest before finally letting his mouth find and cover her breast again. His tongue circled her nipple, bathed it, and then gently drew it fully into his mouth. His lower body lifted and pressed into her with slow rhythmic movements.
Desire bloomed and blossomed inside her, and all her senses reeled in delight.
She gasped again with pleasure. “That feels so wonderful,” she said softly while wave after wave of heat radiated through her. “I don’t want you to stop.”
He chuckled once more and brought his lips back to hers. Their uneven breaths melted together once again before he mumbled, “That’s good because I don’t want to stop. Passion can make you feel that way, Louisa, but what we are doing is dangerous.”
“Then let me do something dangerous for once in my life.”
“If you insist on shedding Miss Prim and Proper tonight, I’m glad you decided to do it with me,” he said between kisses, “but I think you will hate me in the morning if we continue on the course we are heading.”
“I think I already hate you for making me want you continue what I know we shouldn’t be doing.”
He chuckled yet again, and she savored every feeling, every tender caress. The gliding movements of his hands on her breasts thrilled her. He reached over and covered her mouth in a brief but passionate kiss.
“It does not bother me that you will hate me, Louisa.” He kissed the hollow of her throat, teasing her skin with his tongue. “You already think me a beast. I don’t want you to hate yourself, but I promise you will enjoy this.”
“I will forgive myself in the morning and you, too, if you will continue to make me feel this way. I’ve never had these, these strange urges before.”
