“But what if he cannot help us?”
“Stop fretting, Tess. A duke has extensive powers, and I will put them to good use. I also have a fortune at my disposal. At minimum, I will persuade Banks’s victims to leave Ned out of it. They are likely to be more forgiving if I can recover their stolen property and if I offer to reimburse them for any distress they suffered as a result of the burglaries.”
Her anger arrested, she looked up at Ian hopefully. “You would do that for Ned?”
“No, I would do it for you.”
Tess raised herself up on her tiptoes and kissed him warmly on the cheek. “I knew you were not as heartless as you always pretend.”
With a semblance of her usual cheerful optimism, she turned and headed for the kitchens with the invalid’s breakfast tray, leaving Ian with a dry smile hovering on his lips.
At least he seemed to have made progress convincing Tess he had a heart. More surprising still, he found himself wanting her to believe he had a heart, when for the past four years, he had been intent on proving just the opposite.
I confess, the strength of my desire has become a prime source of guilt for me, but perhaps my guilt is a good thing if it can help to protect my heart.
—Diary Entry of Miss Tess Blanchard
If Ned was right, they had only until Sunday night to prepare to capture Jolly Banks and his band of thieves, so there was little time to lose.
Ian, along with Tess, met first with Vicar Potts, then Sir Thomas Greely, the magistrate who meted out justice in that part of Cornwall. Upon deciding to call in the militia, Ian traveled to Falmouth—the closest large city and naval seaport—to make an official request of the Lord Lieutenant and was granted two dozen troops to aid in the effort.
In addition, he alerted the local Customs preventative officers to ward off any accidental interference. If Banks failed to appear Sunday night, they would have to devise another strategy, but for now they hoped to catch the thieves red-handed, in the act of retrieving the stolen property or breaking into the Duke of Rotham’s castle.
They also attempted to discover Banks’s current location in order to keep an eye on him, but he hadn’t been seen in his home town of Polperro for several days. It was possible that he was scouting out another great house to rob. Since wealthy estates were widely scattered over the district, he would have to range farther than when operating in shires closer to London.
In the meantime, they continued to guard the cave below the castle and swore the Falwell servants to secrecy.
As for Ned, his health improved significantly with proper care, and with his fever gone, he was more lucid, almost in his right mind, in fact. But they refrained from mentioning their scheme to trap his cohorts in crime. It was doubtful Ned could keep any confidences secret from the castle staff, and they didn’t want Banks to be warned off, or Ned to make himself a target for revenge.
Tess had appointed herself the veteran’s guardian angel and was more optimistic that he could avoid incarceration of any kind. Moreover, she’d learned that the most recent victims, Lord and Lady Shaw, had offered a reward for the return of their jewels, and she was determined that the funds would go to Ned in reparation for helping expose the thieves.
Ian did not argue with her. In past years, he’d reluctantly been drawn into supporting Tess’s causes, but this was one battle he would fight for her willingly—in no small part because her good opinion had become annoyingly important to him.
He was, however, somewhat surprised that she trusted him to deal with the complex arrangements involving government forces and wasn’t afraid to tell him so.
“Truthfully,” Tess confessed when he returned from Falmouth, “I am glad you are in charge, since I wouldn’t know where to begin. I have every faith you will foil Banks and his men.”
They generally agreed on the major points of the plan. The biggest bone of contention was the extent of Tess’s participation on Sunday night. She wanted to take part in the thieves’ capture, but although Ian was impressed by her tenacity and courage, he was not about to expose her to danger.
When she complained that he was being dictatorial and overly protective again, he remained adamant. “Your safety is my one condition, darling. You will remain behind in the castle. If you won’t agree, then I will end this entire enterprise at once.”
Tess sent him a look of frustration. “Why is it that women are never allowed to be of any use? It is hardly fair that you get to have all the excitement while I must be coddled and protected.”
“You can watch the cove from the castle battlements.”
“It will likely be dark, and I won’t be able to see a thing.” When that argument failed to sway him, she added crossly, “So what am I to do while you are off playing the hero, your grace?”
“You can keep Ned out of trouble. If something were to happen to you, who would take care of him?”
That argument at least gave Tess pause. “You have a point. Very well, I will agree to stay behind.”
Ian eyed her suspiciously, wondering if she was being truthful with him. Still, from her sparkling eyes, he could tell she was relishing the challenge of bringing a gang of thieves to justice, and he enjoyed seeing her enthusiasm.
Their relationship seemed to be improving daily. They were no longer at daggers drawn, as they’d been for the past four years, yet there was still a measure of spirited opposition between them. And in the bedchamber, their heated physical relationship had become something of a sexual rivalry. It was a game they played, to bring each other to gasping pleasure. Ian was a master at it, but Tess held her own in the battle to see who could arouse the other best. Neither wanted to admit defeat.
By late Saturday afternoon, as they rode home from yet another conference with Sir Thomas Greely and Lord Shaw, Tess’s spirits seemed quite high. When they reached the bluffs above the Fowey harbor, she drew her mount to a halt and waited for Ian to help her down, then stood beside him drinking in the splendid ocean view.
The recent rains had ceased, and a glorious sunset tinged the sky with rosy light. Seeing the glow bathe her lovely profile, Ian felt another fierce stab of desire for Tess. Watching her was a pure pleasure, yet seeing her delight was an even greater pleasure.
“Such power and grace,” she murmured with reverence. “The sea is so beautiful, especially at this time of day.”
“Not as beautiful as you are,” he said without thinking.
Turning to eye him, she arched an eyebrow. “You said as much this morning when you seduced me, but I take such comments with a grain of salt.”
Thankfully, she saw his compliment as mere flirtation, a weapon he used in their battle for supremacy.
“I’ll remind you,” Ian returned in that same bantering tone, “that this morning, I was not so much seducer as seducee.”
A catch of laughter escaped her, and Tess leaned into him, more to tease him, he suspected, than because she needed support.
“I realize I have not properly thanked you for trying to spare Ned,” she said huskily.
“You are free to do so now,” he invited, smiling down at her.
She smiled back, and Ian felt a strange lifting beneath his heart. Her smile was a lethal weapon, he thought not for the first time.
When she tilted her head back, inviting him to kiss her, he responded by sinking his tongue into the welcoming richness of her mouth. Like many of their recent encounters, the kiss began as a taunt, but quickly turned tender.
It was that tenderness more than anything that unsettled Ian. He was beginning to lose his self-control, he realized, no matter how determinedly he fought against Tess’s enchanting allure.
Heeding his warning instincts, he ended the kiss more abruptly than he’d intended and stepped back from her. And for the remainder of their ride home, he stayed on his guard. Yet his thoughts were churning at the alarms going off in his head.
His most powerful instinct was to protect Tess, to keep her safe from harm, but how could he pr
otect himself from her?
* * *
Unexpectedly, he faced that question again upon arriving home. Tess went directly to the kitchens to check on Ned, while Ian retreated to his study to finalize some details of his plan.
He was writing at his desk when Fanny Irwin knocked on his study door a few minutes later.
“Forgive me, your grace,” Fanny murmured. “I hoped I might have a private word with you.”
Setting down his quill pen, Ian invited her to take a chair in front of his desk, which she did.
“I wished to thank you, your grace. I am more grateful than I can say for your kind hospitality.”
“Think nothing of it, Miss Irwin. You are a friend of Tess’s, and as such, you are a welcome guest in our home.”
When Fanny remained silent, Ian raised an eyebrow in query. “Is there something else you wished to say to me?” he prodded.
She looked oddly on edge. “Well, yes. The thing is … I saw you with Tess from my bedchamber window this afternoon. And well … Do you love Tess, your grace?”
His stomach muscles tightened; it was a question Ian didn’t want to ask himself. His first instinct was to deliver a sardonic retort, but he settled for drawling mildly, “That is hardly your concern, is it?”
The courtesan hesitated, then offered a conciliatory smile. “I know I am vastly overstepping my bounds with my presumption,” she admitted, resorting to her famed charm. “But as you said, I am Tess’s friend, and I care for her a great deal. I only want her happiness.”
“As do I, Miss Irwin.”
“Is that so?” she asked softly, searching his face. Whatever Fanny saw in his expression must have satisfied her, for she nodded. “I thought you might. I cannot help but notice how you look at Tess sometimes … as if you harbor some deeper feelings for her. If that is true, then I may be able to help you.”
Curiosity warred with irritation inside Ian. “Help me how?”
“To break down her defenses and overcome her resistance to loving you. It will not be easy, given the pain and loss she endured her first time around. But Tess needs love in her life, your grace. Even her dearest friends are not enough to fill the hole in her heart left by her betrothed’s untimely passing.”
Fanny’s expression turned solemn. “I do not think I would be betraying Tess’s trust if I were to aid you, since I believe her future happiness depends very much on you. So if I might be permitted to offer some advice, your grace.…” She paused again, giving him time to reject her counsel.
“I am listening,” Ian said curtly.
Finally she launched into the main purpose of her visit. “You may not have considered the question of love before, since your marriage was so sudden, but for a woman like Tess, the issue can be fundamental. A woman needs to feel wanted, but even more crucially, she needs to feel loved.”
“So you wish me to admit to loving her?”
The courtesan lifted her shoulders in a graceful shrug. “Not to me, no. But I think you must at least admit your feelings to yourself.”
“Love is not an easy matter to comprehend, Miss Irwin.”
At his evasion, Fanny’s lips curved in a wistful smile. “On the contrary, your grace. As I have just recently come to realize, love is fairly simple, and you need only ask yourself some elementary questions. Does Tess make your life worth living? Would you feel desolate without her? And the opposite side of the coin … could she feel the same about you? I repeat, Tess needs to feel loved, not only desired, and if you truly love her, then you would do well to show her.”
Ian leaned back in his chair, unprepared to make such an admission just yet, to Fanny or to himself. “I appreciate your good wishes for Tess, Miss Irwin, but I will deal with my wife in my own way.”
“As you wish, your grace. But if you decide otherwise … I wanted you to know I will do everything in my power to help you.”
“I will keep your offer in mind.”
After Fanny was gone, Ian sat unmoving for a long moment, contemplating the courtesan’s bold, blunt query. Did he love Tess?
Would he even recognize the sentiment if he felt it?
He had never had much love in his life, Ian reflected. His mother had died giving him birth, and by the time he outgrew his childhood, he’d felt neither respect nor love for his libertine father.
He felt a measure of affection for Lady Wingate and a particular few of his other relations, and a much stronger love for his young ward, Jamie. But he had never been in love, nor had he ever wanted to experience the affliction. The prospect of giving up control over his own will to someone else was even more intimidating than marriage, Ian believed.
Before wedding Tess, he’d enjoyed his solitary existence. He could do as he pleased, live as he chose. Now he had to take his wife’s feelings and interests into consideration, even before his own.
Yet strangely enough, he found himself wanting to place Tess’s interests before his own. He couldn’t deny, either, that he was exhibiting some of the symptoms attributed to love; not least were the riotous emotions she stirred in him. Protectiveness, possessiveness, jealousy …
Was that love? Admittedly, his feelings for Tess hadn’t been rational since he saw her kissing Hennessy behind the stage curtains at her godmother’s house party. And without question, she made his blood surge and his heart beat faster. Yet he knew his attraction was driven by far more than lust. He felt happier in her presence. He missed her when she was away. He found himself craving just to be near her, whether they were sparring or conversing about serious matters or making love.
So yes, Ian acknowledged regrettably, he might just be past the point of no return.
And if he was willing to admit that Tess had invaded what passed for his heart? What the devil would he do about it?
Was he a fool to wonder if he could rouse similar feelings in her? Given his sinful past, he was as far from her ideal mate as possible. He didn’t believe he could ever live up to her image of a proper husband, not with her memories of her saintly Richard to provide constant competition for her affections.
Still, there was no longer any question that he wanted to prove himself worthy of Tess. And no question that he wanted to make her forget her late betrothed. Unless he could manage that, he never stood a chance of winning Tess’s love.
A muscle in Ian’s jaw worked. Was her love what he wanted? Without question, he could make Tess desire him, but as Fanny Irwin had pointed out, desire was not the same thing as love.
Ian ran a hand roughly through his hair as he struggled to define his feelings for his beautiful wife. He wanted to make Tess smile, of course. He wanted her happiness more than his own. He wanted her to need him, not just for her causes, not just in his bed, but in her life.
And if that was not love, then what was it?
Fanny was positively glowing, Tess thought when they met in the drawing room before dinner. They were the only ones present as yet, and Fanny didn’t hesitate to share her joy.
“Tess, I am so happy, I am beside myself. Basil proposed to me while you were away this afternoon!”
“I am elated for you,” Tess said, embracing her friend warmly. She started to ask for details, but Fanny obliged before she could say another word.
“Basil says he love me … that he has always loved me and he doesn’t want to live without me.”
“Of course he feels that way. He has worn his heart on his sleeve for months now. I could see it, even if you could not.”
“Yes, but my wicked past … I didn’t dare let myself believe that Basil could overlook everything I have done. But he says he loves me, and since I love him, the rest doesn’t matter.”
Fanny paused to beam another ecstatic smile. “You were right, Tess. Basil was willing to forgive me because he loves me. And I was right about the other. This afternoon we made love for the first time, and it was different from any coupling I have ever experienced … much, much more wonderful. I know it was because of the love between us.” The c
ourtesan squeezed Tess’s hands. “Love makes all the difference, Tess. I do so wish you could find love again.”
Tess’s smile faded as she tried to think of how to respond.
“I would say,” Fanny added in a leading tone, “that the prospects for you finding love in your marriage are improving rapidly.”
Fortunately Basil entered the drawing room just then and claimed Fanny’s attention.
Glad for the diversion, Tess immediately congratulated him on their engagement. But while the two unlikely lovers were sharing a private moment whispering sweet nothings to each other, her thoughts returned to her conflicted feelings for her husband.
There was little question that her marriage was improving, Tess acknowledged, but that in itself was a problem. Her desire for Ian was growing daily. He could arouse her with just a glance. A mere touch made her blood heat, thick and rich. She had never had to fight such powerful, overwhelming lust before.
The fact that she wanted him so much roused an unsettling guilt inside Tess. She had never desired Richard that fiercely. She had loved her betrothed, however, and felt as if she ought to remain true to him in her heart, even though he was long gone.
Other comparisons between the two men continued to haunt her also. Richard had been wonderful and charming, but a bit young and immature, almost more boy than man. In contrast, Ian was all man, much more masculine and mature. As her lover, the physical pleasure Ian gave her was incredible.
Yet something was missing. The truth was, they were caught up in a game of passion and power, with little real emotion between. Their lovemaking, while explosive, was not as emotionally satisfying as it could have been. Nothing like the fulfillment that Fanny claimed to have found with Basil—
Tess abruptly quelled that subversive thought. She was quite happy—vastly relieved, in fact—that their marriage was founded on a strictly carnal basis. She was coming to believe that Ian was not as wicked as she’d always thought. The more she came to know him, the more good she saw in him. But loving him was out of the question. She would be mad to let herself succumb to his seductive arts.
To Desire a Wicked Duke Page 20
