The School for Brides

by Cheryl Ann Smith

  It was nearly impossible not to plot to keep her as his mistress when she was so near.

  Eva shifted in her sleep and let out a small sigh. Nicholas tucked the quilt over her breasts, less for worry she’d catch a chill than for his own desire for rest. The generous globes were all too tempting. And he was spent.

  It was early the next morning when Nicholas’s carriage took her home. It was just before dawn, and the black sky was fading to gray as Eva leaned back on the seat, worry furrowing her brow.

  She had been made love to three times during the night and was immensely satisfied by the encounters. For those stolen moments, she would never feel regret for her loss of innocence. As for the duke, the repercussions of her actions in his arms weren’t so clear. He’d opened up emotions and sexual desires she’d always intended to keep buried until her death.

  Outwardly, though she looked the same, inside she’d changed. She was no longer innocent. She’d lost her virginity to a man who was everything she hated: arrogant, vengeful, and a duke. His wealth and power were enough to send her diving under the nearest bed and away from gossips. And her willingness to allow him to love her, time and time again, troubled her greatly.

  The future she’d plotted for herself did not involve marriage, so there was no risk of a husband discovering her lost innocence. And since she had no intention of ever returning to the duke, unless he’d gotten her with child, their interactions were concluded.

  To continue to see him was to risk not only a baby, but her heart, if she was foolish enough to fall in love with this man who would never love her.

  She’d seen what her mother had given up to love her father; hidden away from the world, never able to claim him fully as hers. Though Father did love her mother deeply, there were rules they both had to follow.

  Eva knew Nicholas could never wed her, and she would not be satisfied to live in the shadows of his wife and children.

  Thus, she would continue her life as it was, and put Nicholas behind her. And now and then she’d think back to her night with the dark duke, and be warm with the memories.

  After instructing the coachman to let her off behind the town house, she walked through the garden, enjoying the last few moments of solitude to collect herself. When Harold opened the kitchen door, a scowl on his face, she walked past him without a word, to find refuge in her room.

  Eventually, she would face his scorn, but for now, she needed to sleep.

  The color is delightful on you, Sophie. You look lovely,” Rose said, laughing as Pauline spun Sophie around for inspection. The day dress was green with a respectable lacy neckline and a froth of lace circling the short, puffed sleeves.

  “You are the lovely one, Rose,” Sophie said, staring at Rose in the mirror. The change in Sophie after a few short days had been unexpected. She had lost some of the hard lines on her face, and smiled more often.

  Rose’s enthusiasm for life had proved infectious, and not even the hardened Sophie and Yvette were immune. Yvette occasionally entertained them with a racy story and became somewhat of an older sister to Rose, Pauline, and Abigail when they needed advice.

  Eva handed a cream-colored dress to Yvette and listened to Rose and Pauline chatter about patterns and fabric with Abigail, who was stripped to her chemise. Rose was clad in pale blue, and the two women were indeed stunning in their new frocks.

  Madame Fornier and her assistants scurried about, eager to show the latest fashions as they envisioned a large sale. Eva had planned to take her ladies shopping the day before, but drenching rain kept them inside. So they’d spent the previous afternoon going over topics one discussed over tea and at parties, and of course, current events.

  Eva wanted her ladies ready for any social situation.

  Her wandering mind, and unsettled nights, kept her from fully focusing on anything but the most mundane tasks. In spite of her best efforts, she could not get His Grace out of her thoughts. She’d tossed on her bed last night, feverish and aching for his body. She could not walk down the street without hoping for a glimpse of his handsome face.

  “What do you think of this one, Miss Eva?” Abigail asked. Eva snapped back to attention. The dress was pale yellow with tiny matching flowers at the neckline. “The dress is pretty, but the color makes your skin sallow.” Eva moved over to a table and picked up a bolt of deep burgundy fabric. “If Madame can make the same dress in this color, it will be perfect.”

  Abigail smiled. “Miss Eva is right. I will take this in the other color.”

  Eva smiled back at the girl. Even Abigail had begun to blossom from her deep shyness and reserve to show a quick wit. She’d quickly become a favorite. Eva hoped to make her a match with one of three men she’d selected of similar temperament. Abigail would make any of them a fine wife.

  All the women had something to offer a suitor. Eva already had several men in mind to introduce to Rose and Yvette. Once she had a firm grasp of her courtesans’ personalities, it was just a matter of making introductions to the suitors, then letting attraction take over.

  While the women stripped for the next selection of gowns in the private fitting room, Eva wandered the shop, fingering fabrics and trimmings. After the women had discovered the joy of garments made of fabric one couldn’t see through, giving up their courtesans’ gowns had not been difficult.

  A flash of black caught the corner of Eva’s eye. She turned to see a tall, caped figure slip into a room at the back of the shop. She looked around for Madame Fornier, but the dressmaker seemed to have vanished.

  Curious, Eva walked to where the man had disappeared, and gingerly peered around the open doorway. A gloved hand shot out and grasped her by the wrist. Before she could cry out, she was jerked inside the storage room, and the door was closed behind her.

  “Let me loose,” she whimpered the instant she recognized the spicy scent of her captor. “Your Grace?”

  In the dim light seeping under the door, Eva molded to his body as he swept his hat off his head with one hand and circled her waist with the other. “Were you expecting someone else?”

  He turned to press her back to the wall and bent to hungrily claim her mouth. Heat rocked Eva as she wrapped her arms around his neck and tipped her head to a better fit. She let out a low moan of sheer happiness as Nicholas kissed her breathless.

  When he finally lifted his head, her heart threatened to leap from her chest. She knew she should push him away, yet she hadn’t the will to do so. He was warm and hard, and she longed to feel him naked above her, plunging into her body. If not for the inappropriate setting, she’d have tossed up her skirts and let him have his way with her.

  “Why are you here?” she whispered, clutching his coat. “Someone might have seen you. Do you plan to ruin me?”

  “That was my intention,” he teased. “I knew your curiosity would bring you to me.” He tipped his head and nipped her ear. “I saw your carriage and planned only to walk past. My solicitor is two doors down. When I saw you through the window, I was drawn inside.” He lowered his hand to caress her rump. “I could not resist a bit of fondling.”

  Oddly, she found his admission pleasing. She arched a brow. “You must be familiar with the shop, Your Grace, to find this room. It is somewhat hidden behind the shelves.”

  “I have been here once or twice.” Doubtless, with previous lovers. He sucked her earlobe.

  Eva giggled quietly and leaned her head back to allow him access to her neck. Her wig slipped and blocked his advance. He groaned and lifted his head. “I hate how you hide your hair, Eva. Why do you feel the need to do so?”

  Eva released him and settled back against the wall. “You would not understand, Your Grace. Your life has been open to the world since your birth. I am not so lucky. I need to keep my two worlds separate. Miss Black belongs to the courtesans and Miss Winfield belongs to me.”

  “Interesting. You hide only from your courtesans?” He lifted her face with his fingertips and peered into her eyes. “I know about your mot
her’s history. Is that the real reason why you hide behind Miss Black?”

  Eva lifted her head. “You know?” She bent and slipped out from under his arm. She faced him, frowning. “How could you know?”

  She felt sick. All the years of hiding the truth, and the duke had discovered her deepest secret in a few days. She crossed her arms protectively. “Oh, yes. You made it your mission to discover all about me so you could drag me though the gutters and ruin my life.”

  “Eva”—his voice turned stony—“I would never expose your secret, despite my vengeful plotting. I ended the investigation as soon as I recognized Charlotte’s name.”

  Her stomach twisted at the familiar way he said “Charlotte,” and she whispered, “You know my mother?” She pressed her hands over her mouth.

  The duke nodded. “She was a casual acquaintance of my father. I met her once in Hyde Park when I was a child. She was stunning and also kind. She allowed me to ride atop her coach with the coachman as she took a turn around the park. It was something my father would not allow.” He stepped close. “My investigator knows nothing of her identity. I made certain of it. Charlotte is safe.”

  Tears welled in her eyes. She’d never known anyone who’d been acquainted with her mother when she had been young and vivacious. Eva had needed to cut all ties to her mother’s courtesan life to protect her and her fragile mind.

  “She is ill, Your Grace,” she said weakly. “If anyone finds out the truth of her past, I don’t think she could bear the scrutiny.”

  Nicholas clasped her arms and made her face him. There was no sign of thoughts of revenge or anger in his shadowed face; only compassion, and a touch of sympathy, as he bent until they were almost nose to nose. “You have my word, Eva. I will take her secret to my grave.”

  Chapter Eight

  How could she trust this man? He’d set out to destroy her in spite of his current words to the contrary. The change in him since their night together was undoubtedly but a temporary diversion. Fevered couplings would not change the fact that the duke was ruthless and selfish and arrogant.

  “No matter what transpires between us, Eva, I will not betray Charlotte,” he said tightly, as if reading her suspicious thoughts. “To do so would be cruel.”

  Eva nodded. “Thank you, Your Grace.”

  Troubled, she backed out of reach.

  “I should get back before the ladies grow concerned,” she said, looking away. She could not bear to see that vengeful devil duke in the face of the man who’d loved her so passionately for one magical night, and had held her tenderly while she slept.

  She felt him watch her for a moment, and she reluctantly looked up to see his hooded expression. His posture was stiff and his jaw tight. A chasm had developed between them with his admission of knowing her mother, and Eva knew he felt it, too.

  Nicholas nodded sharply and replaced his hat low on his head. “Good day, Miss Black.”

  “Good day, Your Grace.”

  Without another glance, he left her alone in the dark.

  Eva returned home a few hours later, exhausted. She’d left the women at the school, buried in boxes of gowns and hats and gloves, and had taken the opportunity to slip away. They were happy to spend their meager funds on gowns, and Eva made sure each purchase was reasonable.

  Her feet throbbed from endless hours standing, and she felt the strain of the day press against the backs of her eyes. Harold had said nothing to her all day, but a permanent scowl was present on his face as he drove them from shop to shop and helped them with their packages.

  She wondered if he’d seen the duke enter the shop and suspected an assignation. Even if the meeting had led to a brief romp on the storage room floor, she owed him no explanation. As a grown woman, her decisions were her own. If she deemed it necessary to take a new lover each day for a week, it was her decision. She’d never asked about his romances, and he should not concern himself with hers.

  “Do you plan to talk to me, Harold, or am I to live the rest of my days suffering under your brooding silence?” She stopped just inside the foyer and tipped her head up. His fair brows were nearly knitted together above his nose. “You might as well say your piece and be done with it. I cannot stand the infernal silence.”

  “You are making a mistake,” he grumbled, and pulled his hat off. He crushed the narrow brim in one hand. “His Grace will destroy you, Eva. He will take and take until you have nothing left to give, then leave you as your father left your mother. What will you do then?”

  “My father died,” she snapped. “It is not the same.”

  “Is it not?” He took her elbow and steered her into the parlor. Once the door was closed, he turned to her. “He is using you for his own ends. Make no mistake about that, Eva. And once he has your heart ensnared, he’ll vanish without cause or explanation.”

  “Mother and Father were in love, and he died. He died!” Ire rose in her breast. “I am not in love with His Grace.” It was the truth. She would be a fool to fall in love with a man like him. He was above her in wealth and situation. He would pluck a beauty from his own class and wed her. Eva was but a temporary diversion, and she had no grander hopes. “Nor will I ever be.”

  “You deny it now, but what about next week, next month?” Harold scrubbed a hand along his jaw. It was several days since he had shaved, and the bristles were becoming pronounced. “Even were he to fall in love with you, he could not wed you. You know that.” He paced, and did not allow her to comment. “Would you be satisfied to accept the arrangement your parents had?” He shook his head and scowled. “I know you, Eva. Knowing you were whoring for him while his duchess waited at home would kill you inside.”

  “How dare you say such an insolent thing to me?” she cried. “You have no right.”

  “Someone has to,” he countered, and stalked about the room, his body tense. “You are under his spell and cannot see daylight.”

  The frank words chilled her, and she crossed her arms around her waist and walked to the window. Clouds gathered in the sky and a light mist began to fall. The grayness of the day matched her brooding mood as she stared across the rain-spoiled yard to the street beyond.

  She knew Harold was right, and in the moment, she hated him for knowing her so well. She also hated that he was her only real friend and that protecting her mother had left her so isolated from the closeness women shared.

  How could a man understand a woman’s heart fully? How could she explain how those stolen moments with His Grace had made her feel alive for the first time in her life? She had shared passion with the duke without thinking about her mother or her courtesans or how she had to hide from her worries and fears every day. She’d been naked, both physically and emotionally, and strangely, she’d trusted His Grace that night with both her body and her heart.

  “I will speak of it no more.” She felt sickened. Harold had turned her into a whore through ignorance and accusation. Though no money had passed between her and the duke, and there was no arrangement in place, she had bedded the man without a word of affection or the promise of a future between them.

  Harold saw her as she refused to see herself. Was she a whore because she’d given in to temptation with His Grace?

  In that moment, she began to understand her courtesans as she never had before.

  She’d helped them, she’d taught them, she’d found them husbands, but as a virgin spinster, she’d never really known what drew so many women to choose, and stay in, that life.

  The night with His Grace had taught her how powerful desire could be. And she’d wanted him so desperately with her body, if not her mind and heart. Even now, she longed to welcome him into her bed, to feel his hands playing with her, driving her to madness. She wanted to taste his skin, to feel him thrust into her with long, deep strokes. She wanted to listen to his heart beat beneath her ear as he slept beside her, her head on his chest, his arm tucked around her.

  She wanted to take back the day he showed up on her stoop and erase
him from her mind. She wanted not to see the disappointment in Harold’s eyes because she’d given her innocence to their enemy.

  “You may not want to speak of His Grace, but I can see in your face that he has his hooks in you.” Eva looked over her shoulder as Harold grasped the door handle and turned to her. “Be careful, Eva.”

  Don’t forget Lady Pennington’s ball is Friday, and the Banes-Dodds will be in attendance.” Nicholas’s mother, Catherine, shuffled through a stack of invitations beside her breakfast plate. She divided them into piles based on priority, as she did every morning over strawberry pastries and overcooked eggs. “I’m sure Lucy is eager to see you again, dearest son. Several weeks have passed since you made an appearance at any function.”

  Nicholas lifted his head from the newspaper and frowned. Since the day he’d lost Arabella, his pursuit of Lucy Banes-Dodd had been lackluster. Hell, since the day he met Eva, she’d become his entire focus, raised to an obscene level after he’d taken her to bed. In fact, he could hardly recall the face of the pretty Lucy.

  He’d been so intent on first punishing, then seducing, Eva that he’d allowed everything else in his life to fall by the wayside.

  “Weeks?” He racked his brain for the last party he’d attended. It was the Wilksbury masque nearly a month ago. He’d gone masked and danced several times with Lucy, who was dressed as a shepherdess, and with several other potential duchesses. The evening had gone along pleasantly enough, but his mind wasn’t fully engaged in flirtation. He’d been in the midst of searching for Arabella. The evening had been distinctly forgettable.

  He was often restless of late. The excitement of youthful entertainments had waned with his advancing age, and he no longer pursued the enticements of gambling and emotionless couplings with lovers whose faces he couldn’t recall the next day. Though he’d worked very hard to become the man his father wanted him to be, he knew there were certain things he would want to do differently.