The Duke of Desire

by Michaels, Jess

  “How do you mean?” she asked. “Talking about sex as a shield is one thing. It’s a topic that is meant to make others uncomfortable. But to use the act itself as a barrier feels…it’s so intimate.”

  He swallowed. Yes, it was that. With her it was that. With her it was something beyond a natural need for pleasure. Something deeper that both drew him in and made him want to run. Run back to London to bury himself in meaningless pleasure with ladies who made him feel nothing.

  He cleared his throat. “Passion is control.”

  Her eyes widened. “I might beg to differ.”

  “It feels like it’s not sometimes,” he admitted. “But you have that control as well.”

  She shook her head. “The thing that frightens me most, that kept me up last night, was how much that statement isn’t true.”

  “You offered me your pleasure, but you put up a boundary, didn’t you? A line you told me not to cross. If I want the pleasure, I must respect the line. It’s no different with anyone else who engages in an affair. When the lines are drawn, there can be no confusion. No one expects more.”

  Her gaze held on him and something in her expression changed. Before she had been open, interested, engaged in this exchange. Now that wall came back up. He didn’t understand why, but there it was. She drew back from him a long step, her eyes grew colder.

  There was something more to this conversation for her. And he had no idea what it was.

  “What if someone asked you for more?” she asked. His lips parted in shock, but she held up a hand to keep him from responding. “Not me, don’t worry. I mean anyone.”

  He pondered that question. Over the years, of course, there had been woman who had angled for more than just his cock. Women he’d liked, even, but had balked at the idea of granting more. He had lovers, not mistresses. He did not court.

  “If someone asked for more, I would push them away. Gently, if possible,” he said.

  Her lower lip trembled a fraction and she nodded slowly. He couldn’t tell what that statement meant to her, nor why she had asked it. But it was clear it elicited some kind of response.

  “Yes,” she said at last. “I suppose you would.” She glanced back at the house. “You know, I think it would be best if I returned. Please continue with your walk, Your Grace. Good morning.”

  “Katherine,” he said, longing suddenly to keep her with him. To find out how this conversation had turned so suddenly and bring her back to the easy connection they sometimes shared.

  But she ignored him. She walked away and kept walking. And she never looked back. A fact that felt like someone had pressed their fist through his chest, gripped his heart and squeezed.

  He’d had that feeling only once before in his life. Now he clawed to make it stop as he struggled to find another emotion to replace it. Another thought to keep the darkness out.

  Katherine was dangerous. It was in his best interest to cut her away now before she wiggled her way even further into his mind, his heart. And yet all he wanted to do was chase her.

  He wasn’t certain whether to hate her or admire her for that.

  The morning had been bright, almost too bright, but now, several hours later, it had turned. Rain streamed down the windows, keeping the party inside.

  Katherine had no idea what the rest of the group was doing, but at present she was tucked into a quiet parlor, book in hand. A book she wasn’t reading. Instead she stared at the inclement weather and scowled. It reflected her heart, really, and she resented that. Bright after her night with Robert. Cloudy and uncertain after their troubling conversation that morning.

  He’d said that if someone asked for more, he would push that person away. That statement cut her deeper than she’d wanted to admit. It made her think of her encounter with the man. Not when he’d almost kissed her years ago. The one after. She’d gone to him to ask for his help after her father arranged her marriage.

  And he’d done exactly what he described earlier today. Pushed her away. Not gently as he’d said he’d try to be. It had not been gently. She knew he’d been drunk when he’d done it. Now he didn’t recall it.

  She was just another lady he’d escaped. She would be again once he was finished with this painful connection they were now exploring. She couldn’t be so foolish as to forget that.

  The door to the parlor clicked shut and she pivoted to find Robert standing at it, leaning against the surface and staring at her. He looked…ragged. Worn out. She’d seen his emotion before when he talked to her about losing the attachment to his friends, but this felt different.

  “I don’t know what I did to anger you today.” He moved forward and she scrambled to her feet, ignoring it when her book clattered to the floor. “But I don’t want whatever it is to come between us.”

  She stared at him, uncertain of how to respond. “Robert—” she began.

  He cut her off by taking a long step toward her, gathering her into his arms and dropping his lips to hers. She wished that she were strong enough to freeze. To refuse when she’d just been considering the folly of this affair and all it could lead to.

  But she wasn’t. She wanted him, and when he touched her everything else fell away. She opened her mouth to him, eagerly welcoming his tongue as it swept against hers. She lifted against him, losing herself in desire, in longing, in pleasure.

  He cupped her backside, grinding her against him as he moaned low and insistent into her mouth and let her know he was as moved, at least physically, as she was.

  She had no idea what would have happened next, in those desperate moments where all her hesitations faded and were replaced by the uncontrollable feelings he stoked in her. She didn’t get a chance to find out.

  The door to the parlor opened behind them.

  “Katherine, we heard you were in here and thought you might want to join the duchesses for—oh my!”

  Katherine pulled away from Robert, staggering back and staring over his shoulder at the door. Emma and Meg stood there together, eyes wide as they looked from Katherine to Robert and then back again. Katherine knew what they saw. She could guess what they thought.

  Shame rushed up in her, erasing all the pleasant feelings Robert had stirred in her with his passionate embrace. She glanced at him. His expression was stricken.

  “Katherine,” he said softly.

  She ignored it. Ignored her friends, and did all she could do. She ran.

  Robert stared as Katherine raced past Emma and Meg out the door of the parlor. He strode forward, ready to stop her, but Meg placed herself in front of him. “No, don’t,” she said, placing a hand to his chest.

  “Why?” he snapped, unable to temper his tone even though he’d known Meg for a very long time and had always liked her. “You all wanted so desperately to protect her from me—is this the next step in the evolution of your plans to separate us?”

  Meg blinked up at him and Emma caught her breath. He felt their regard heavy and hard on him, and his face suddenly felt hot.

  “No,” Meg said carefully. “You are both adults and there is nothing any of us would do to break apart what is clearly a consensual and mutual attraction. She’s upset.”

  “Yes, and that upset seems to come from embarrassment at being caught,” Emma said gently. “If you follow her, that will not ease her mind. She will still believe she’s being judged by our group.”

  He blinked. “Y-Yes. She does fear that if the duchesses recognized her true…I think she refers to it as her nature…that you would despise her.”

  Emma pursed her lips and glanced at Meg. “It is exactly as I told you.”

  “Then we must do the other thing you said,” Meg said with a nod. “Check to be sure her aunt is resting so we won’t be interrupted, then go tell the others. I’ll find Katherine and bring her to you.”

  Emma gave Robert a long look and then slipped from the room.

  Meg tilted her head. “I recall the first time I met you. What was
I? Ten?”

  He forced a smile. “Yes. A most annoying sister.”

  She laughed. “I think you must still think that, considering how you are glaring at me so angrily.”

  He turned away. “Then I am being rude. I would not wish to bring down the wrath of either James or Simon. Your brother and husband have enough issues with me currently.”

  “Yes, your wager. Except I think you aren’t so invested in that anymore. You need to evaluate the fact that you care about Katherine.”

  He spun back. “I beg your pardon?”

  Meg rolled her eyes. “‘I beg your pardon?’” she mimicked before she put her hands on her hips. “You like her. I think you might more than like her, judging by what I’ve seen.”

  “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about,” he said. Lied. He lied.

  She shook her head. “Great God, Robert, she would be a good match for you. She never lets you have even a quarter and that is exactly the kind of woman you need to keep from getting bored. But I know you. You’re about to buck and run like an unbroken stallion, in order to escape what you truly desire. And that could get you both hurt. So I beg of you, fight your impulses to be an utter ass.”

  He stared at her. Meg had always been direct, but this was far even for her.

  “Is that all, Your Grace?” he asked, trying to keep his tone icy but only managing to sound as flummoxed as he felt.

  “No, but I have a lady to comfort and right now that is more important.” She smiled at him and reached up to pat his cheek. “You know we all adore you, right? Get yourself together.”

  With that, she turned on her heel and marched from the room, leaving him to gape after her. Not only had Meg been shockingly direct, but what she said didn’t feel too far off the mark. And that was abjectly terrifying.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Katherine could hardly breathe as she stumbled into her chamber and raced for the settee. She threw herself into it, trying to calm her throbbing heart. Trying to fight the tears that clouded her vision.

  What had she done?

  Her blossoming friendship with the duchesses was something she enjoyed so much. She’d been isolated all her life—being around them now felt like finally having the connection she’d lost when her mother died. That she was just barely reestablishing with her aunt.

  Now with one foolish loss of control with Robert she had probably not only threatened her relationship with the women, but destroyed it. And if they broke with her, especially publicly? All her hopes of even the smallest return to Society would be dashed.

  There was a light knock at her door, which she ignored. She didn’t want to see anyone. Didn’t want to see their judgmental stares or hear Robert try to explain how she should just surrender to the life of a wanton and forget everything but pleasure.

  “Katherine, please may I come in?”

  She shook her head as she rose. She recognized the Duchess of Crestwood’s muffled voice in the hallway. Of course Emma would not come. She was likely horrified. From Katherine’s observation of the women, Meg was one of the most direct. Likely she had come here to ask Katherine to leave.

  She deserved no less, though she had no idea how she would explain it to her aunt.

  Resigned, she got to her feet and trudged to her fate. “Your Grace,” she said as she opened the door, refusing to look at her visitor.

  “Katherine,” Meg said, touching her hand.

  Katherine forced herself to look into the duchess’s eyes and was surprised to see kindness there. That empathy broke the dam of her emotion and the tears she had been fighting began to fall.

  “Oh, what you all must think of me!” she burst out.

  Meg’s expression softened further and she drew Katherine in for a hug. “Dearest, oh dearest, you mustn’t. If you believe I came up here to chastise you about a kiss, or even more than a kiss, then you are wrong.”

  “You didn’t?” Katherine asked, confusion cutting off her tears as she stared at Meg in disbelief.

  “No, I didn’t. Emma and I were looking for you in the hopes that you’d join the ladies for tea. I believe your aunt is resting, so it would just be the duchesses.” Meg squeezed her hand tighter. “Please, won’t you come?”

  Katherine found herself nodding, though she wasn’t certain it was the best idea. After all, Meg might be kind, but that didn’t mean anyone else would understand what she’d been doing in the parlor.

  She was in no less danger of being ostracized by her new friends. Yet she could not refuse, so she followed Meg through the hall and down to the parlor where the other ladies had gathered. They were talking all at once, but when Katherine entered, it stopped.

  She froze at the entryway, heat flooding her cheeks. This was the worst part of being a pariah. Either conversation went on about you, around you, or it tellingly stopped the moment you entered a room.

  “Good afternoon,” she said, not lifting her gaze from the floor as she awaited the hissing, the tone of voice to tell her she didn’t belong.

  Instead, as Meg stepped in to join Adelaide, Charlotte, Helena and Isabel, Emma rushed forward and took Katherine’s hands. Katherine dared to look at the duchess and found Emma with the same gaze of understanding that Meg had on her face when she came to Katherine’s chamber.

  “Come in.” Emma drew her into the room and ushered her to a place in the middle of the settee. She was now surrounded by the duchesses, who were all watching her, save for Emma, who had hustled off to get her tea.

  When she rejoined the group, Meg gave the ladies a look and said, “I have always believed that directness was the best policy, assuming it is directness that is kindly meant.”

  “Here, here,” Adelaide said as she raised a teacup as a toast.

  Meg arched a brow at her friend. “Katherine, I think you know we’re as much like sisters as our husbands are like brothers. I believe the ladies already know what Emma and I stumbled upon a little while ago in the parlor.”

  Katherine bent her head lower, wishing she could disappear into the settee and never come out again. Although she supposed she appreciated the fact that the women weren’t wasting too much time talking about her behind her back, she could also see her hopes spiraling the drain.

  “I see,” she said. “It was an unfortunate thing that you and Emma walked in on such a scene. I recognize it was shocking and scandalous. I could understand if you wanted me to leave and removed all your…I don’t know, is it patronage? Removed your support from me.”

  Adelaide leaned forward. “I would call what we offer friendship.”

  “Yes,” Charlotte said with a frown. “I always enjoyed our talks all those years ago when there was so much unhappiness in both our marriages. We’re friends, Katherine. No one is being so condescending as to believe it is anything less.”

  Katherine dared to look up. Everyone was leaning in now, a group expression of empathy and care in their eyes. Were they truly…accepting her? Despite her bad behavior? The kind that so proved her father’s slurs right?

  “You are all so kind,” Katherine began slowly. “But you are also sophisticated and elegant. How in the world can my kissing Roseford in a public parlor in Emma’s home be acceptable? Especially considering the stain that is already on my reputation thanks to my late husband’s death. None of you could want to associate with that kind of scandal.”

  For a moment the room was quiet and then, to her surprise, Adelaide began to laugh. That opened the floodgates and very quickly all of the women were giggling around her. Katherine blinked. She did not see the humor of the situation.

  Emma edged closer. “We aren’t laughing at you, my dear. It’s just the idea that none of us would want to be associated with scandal is ludicrous. We have all been scandalous in our lives, most especially with our husbands before we were married.”

  Katherine’s mouth dropped open. “What?”

  Meg shook her head. “You don’t believe us. Well, I’ll
start since my scandal was most public. You must know that I was first engaged to Graham for a long time. But I was in love with Simon and we, er…well, we handled it badly.”

  Katherine caught her breath. That had all happened at the apex of her worst time with Gainsworth. When she had been at her most isolated. She’d known a little about it, but had honestly forgotten the details.

  “Everyone talked,” Meg said, lifting her chin. “It nearly destroyed us. But we kept being…scandalous. And ultimately we are here and we are happy.”

  Adelaide nodded. “And for my part, the scandal Meg and Simon created threw poor Graham into turmoil and brought him to me. Do you recall that actress that was in the news two years ago? Lydia Ford?”

  Katherine sat up a bit straighter. “Yes, I heard she was a wonderful performer. I so wanted to see her final play, but Gregory would not allow it. He hated theatre.”

  Adelaide smiled. “If you’d like, I could try to recall the lines I had in that play. You see, Lydia Ford was my stage name.”

  Katherine pushed to her feet and backed away from Adelaide. “You were Lydia Ford?”

  “Yes. Masquerading as a famous actress by night, a mousy little wallflower by day.”

  “As if you ever could have been mousy,” Helena muttered, and Adelaide glanced at her with a smile.

  “Graham fell in love with us both and it was all very torrid and shameless and romantic and terrifying. So in the race for who has the greatest scandal, I think that might be me.”

  “Er, wasn’t there a murder?” Katherine whispered.

  Adelaide shook her head. “A friend of mine from the theatre was attacked and her lover killed the bastard. Once Graham and I were to marry, Lydia had to disappear, so her confession and disappearance were meant to save our friends. So you see, my scandal has many levels and not one of my friends has ever judged me for it.”

  Emma stood and came to put her arm around Adelaide. “Why would we? You are wonderful. As for me, James and I pretended a courtship so that I would garner the attention of other men. And then we had an affair.” She blushed. “Here, actually.” She looked around with a sigh. “I have always loved this house.”