The Duke's Temptation

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by Addie Jo Ryleigh


  It wasn’t until they were descending the stairs that a touch of worry hit Elizabeth. What if Gabe regretted what had happened between them? He hadn’t been abed with her when she woke. If he had been delighted with the change in their relationship, wouldn’t he have stayed with her?

  As swiftly as those concerns came, she pushed them aside. Of course he hadn’t stayed. Gabe carrying her to the room the prior evening would have been enough to cause a scandal. His departure before dawn would have been for her protection, an attempt to cut short any gossip. Elizabeth didn’t want to think of the consequences if her aunt had found Gabe in bed with her.

  The woman might be lax in her chaperoning duties, but she wasn’t completely irresponsible. In no way would Elizabeth consent to Gabe being forced to marry her. No, if—when—he married her, it would be because he loved her, and nothing else would do.

  She reached the bottom of the stairs and scanned the open space. Similar to the room above, sparse furnishings filled the area, simply a group of shabby tables and chairs off to one side of the room. Sunlight filtered through the oversized windows and kept the dreariness away. In fact, it was almost quaint.

  She surveyed the room’s few occupants; an elderly couple sitting at a table close to the fire, a young man and woman with a small boy at their table, and a few other gentlemen sprinkled throughout. At a later hour, the room would be filled with travelers, but now most of the tables sat empty.

  Her aunt gently pulled on her arm. “This way, dear.” Aunt Millie chuckled. “Oh, good, I see there is some food left.”

  Elizabeth turned in the direction her aunt indicated and her eyes found what she craved more than sustenance. Seated at a table with more than enough food, Gabe appeared on edge with his only companion, his child. Elizabeth watched as he sent glances from the corner of his eye to his daughter and smiled. At least here he couldn’t run from Phoebe’s company as he had in London.

  Elizabeth and her aunt wove around the tables, while she studied father and daughter. She still felt that after spending more time with his daughter, he’d accept the notion of being a parent. The close proximity the trip required could only aid it along.

  “Poppet, I am pleased to see you’ve left us something to eat.”

  At Aunt Millie’s greeting, Gabe’s head snapped up before he quickly got to his feet, and Elizabeth’s insides turned cold. Gone was the warmth of the man who had held and stroked her during the night. This version of Gabe, standing before her and looking everywhere but at her, bore no resemblance to the one who had listened to her as she’d divulged her deepest fear.

  “Elizabeth, do have a seat,” Aunt Millie instructed, pulling her attention from Gabe.

  The thought of sitting before Gabe when he was like this—and trying to eat—knotted her stomach.

  She floundered for an excuse not to when Gabe spoke. “Ladies, please excuse me. I need to make certain all is ready with the coach before we depart. Enjoy your meal.” And, with a quick bow, he strode from the inn.

  Stunned by his abrupt departure, Elizabeth stood frozen beside the table, staring at the door that slammed closed behind him.

  The longer she stood there, the more powerful her building fury became. She clenched her fists until her fingernails bit into her palms.

  “Aunt, I find I’m not hungry after all. If you don’t mind, I think I’ll take in some fresh air before we leave. Would you object to watching Phoebe?”

  Aunt Millie’s eyes narrowed, increasing the gentle lines surrounding them. The woman was far from dumb and had probably connected Gabe’s departure with Elizabeth’s arrival. But her face quickly cleared. “You go on ahead, dear. Besides, you not partaking in this delicious food guarantees there will be plenty for Phoebe and me.”

  Elizabeth, already exiting in pursuit of Gabe, heard Phoebe’s youthful giggle. She would be in good hands with Aunt Millie. Which would give Elizabeth ample time to confront a certain gentleman.

  She stormed from the inn, intent on finding him. Free of the doorway she abruptly stopped, momentarily blinded by the bright day. Relieved to see all signs of the storm had passed, she let her eyes adjust to the intensity of the morning sun. As much as she dreaded storms, the crisp, clean aftermath never ceased to delight her.

  The brightness diminished, allowing her to see about the yard. Her gaze quickly latched onto Gabe, standing alongside the coach conversing with the coachman. Before commonsense prevailed, Elizabeth marched across the yard and halted at Gabe’s side.

  If she hadn’t been so enraged, she would have found Gabe, as he blatantly ignored her, humorous. But, she was infuriated and refused to be overlooked. Especially by a man acting more childish than his three-year-old daughter.

  “Pardon me, Gabe.” She wasn’t certain but he appeared to flinch when she started to speak. “I would like to speak with you.”

  He didn’t turn; instead he kept his focus on the coachman. “Elizabeth, I’m currently speaking with Henry. You’ll have to wait.”

  She might have been angry before, but the way he spoke to her like a wayward child turned her livid. Perhaps she should remind the man of the woman she’d been when she’d shattered in his arms a few hours earlier.

  “No. It cannot wait.” She sent a forced smile to Henry, hoping the older man wouldn’t notice the undercurrent of emotions flowing beneath their seemingly normal exchange. “I’m sorry, Henry. This will take but a moment.”

  “Not at all, Lady Elizabeth. We are finished,” Henry said, with a grandfather-like twinkle in his eye. She had a suspicion the coachman understood more of the situation than she would have liked, but since he appeared to be furthering her purpose, her smile melted from strained to genuine. He answered with a nod before he turned to Gabe, offering a slight bow of his head and a quick “Your Grace,” before making his way to the stable.

  Elizabeth stifled a laugh at Gabe’s bemused expression as his coachman abandoned him. “It appears your conversation with Henry is over.” His discomfort at being outmaneuvered encouraged her words to tumble out, before she could come to her senses. “Why are you avoiding me?”

  His jaw, already tight, constricted until it appeared to be chiseled from granite. But she wouldn’t back down. This was too important for her to be intimidated by his surly mood. Besides, over the years she’d seen him scolded, and Marcus too, enough to dismiss him as a figure of intimidation. So, she waited.

  Her patience was finally rewarded when he pivoted and glared at her. She would have been pleased, if not for the distant look of his eyes.

  His voice bordered on icy. “Would you care to explain what is so important that you would interrupt my conversation?”

  Agape from the force of his words, she found herself at a loss. What is going on? Fueled by the memory of how he had touched her so reverently, she retorted, “Don’t take that superior tone with me! Especially after last night.”

  A flush stained his cheeks. Good to see he wasn’t as indifferent to her as he wanted her to believe. “Besides, you know perfectly well what this is about. You also should have known I wouldn’t dismiss your behavior.” She gave a dramatic pause, hoping to make her point clear. “Not after what happened between us.”

  The strong column of his neck worked as he swallowed and his words came out slightly hoarse. “About that . . . Elizabeth, we both know it should never have happened.” His feet shuffled slightly, as if he wanted to get away from her. “Either way, it will never be repeated.”

  She opened her mouth to protest, then swiftly closed it. No words would come to her. She hadn’t expected him to dismiss everything that had occurred.

  “I . . . I don’t understand. Last night—”

  His uncomfortable demeanor turned bored, composed. “Last night, I was in the company of a half-naked, beautiful woman. Not even the most paramount of gentlemen would have bee
n able to restrain himself—and I’m no gentleman.”

  Her insides screamed for him to stop. To kill the pain spiraling through her.

  She died a little when he continued, “There is no excuse for what happened. I take full responsibility. I should have remembered you are not the usual sort of woman I dally with. I’m just thankful I didn’t ruin you. That would have stirred an entirely different problem.”

  He met her eyes, their coldness seeping into her. “We both know I am not husband material.”

  Stop. Oh, God. Please stop. She couldn’t endure much more. To her dismay, her silent pleas continued to go unanswered as he shoved the sharp words deeper. “I am sorry if you expected anything else. However, you know me well enough to realize, I’m not capable of anything more than a quick tumble.”

  Her heart fell at her feet, in tiny pieces, torn to shreds.

  “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to collect Phoebe and be on our way.” And with that, Gabe walked away—never looking back.

  Through her numbness, the jumble of activity around the yard penetrated her senses. Her eyes, surprisingly dry—when all she wanted to do was burst into tears—viewed servants as they darted around, readying their employers’ conveyances. Horses stomped impatiently on the cobbled ground, eager to move on now that the storm had passed.

  How could the lives of others continue undisturbed, while her future fell like dust around her? It all seemed so unfair.

  This wasn’t the time or place to come apart, so she stuffed her pain deep. And not a moment too soon, as Aunt Millie and Phoebe exited the inn, with Gabe following close behind. Watching him stride through the yard, showing none of the agony she felt, caused new fortitude to surface.

  She drew a ragged breath, cloaked her emotions in a blanket of disinterest, and placed a faint smile on her lips. She wasn’t about to announce to Gabe how thoroughly he’d hurt her.

  Chapter 19

  It seemed an eternity had slipped by before the coach finally rolled into the courtyard of Frenton Hall. Instead of finding the drive a nuisance, Elizabeth had welcomed the extra time as a way to get her emotions well in hand. Or as much as possible after complete devastation.

  In truth, between Phoebe’s mounting excitement, and keeping Aunt Millie from discovering what had happened, Elizabeth had had little time to think of Gabe—not that she’d managed to completely push him from her thoughts.

  Fortunately, with him riding outside the coach, she hadn’t been forced to endure his company, except for the few times they’d stopped for necessities and for Phoebe to release some pent up energy. All in all, the full day of travel had been endurable.

  With Phoebe content looking out the opposite window at the passing line of trees, and Aunt Millie encouraging her excitement, Elizabeth took the moment to peer from her own window. She stifled a gasp at the sight before her. Through an opening of the tress, she caught a view of the most remarkable structure.

  The expansive mansion, sitting in the midst of sculptured lawns, consisted of two wings extending perpendicular from the main section, and based on the number of windows, it could house a small village.

  The carriage rolled to a stop. Bubbling with excitement, Aunt Millie barely restrained Phoebe long enough for the footman to open the door and offer a hand. After she stepped free of the coach, Elizabeth noticed Gabe standing off to the side. She silently seethed that he’d allowed the footman to assist them, never stepping forth to help.

  Determined to ignore his impolite behavior, she tilted her head and scanned the house. Seeing the detailed architecture up close made the place even more striking.

  She would never claim to know anything regarding building design, but even her novice eye appreciated the beauty of the red brick, multi-storied building sitting at the head of the forecourt. Each window set off by white framing matched perfectly with the white trimmed gables. The only thing that would have made it more impressive would be if it were an actual castle.

  Engrossed, Elizabeth failed to brace herself against the warm caress of Gabe’s deep voice across her traitorous body, bringing forth her earlier pain. “Ladies, welcome to Frenton Hall.” He gestured to the front door. “I know there is much to see but after the long journey, I’m sure you’d like to freshen up. Possibly rest. Your rooms should be ready. If you’ll follow me, I’ll have you directed there.”

  After they’d left the inn, Gabe had been distant, never engaging Elizabeth—or even Aunt Millie—in conversation unless it had been unavoidable. Even then, his comments had been succinct. Much to her dismay and then fury, it appeared upon reaching his estate, his manner remained the same. The new restraint between the two of them caused Elizabeth to mourn, not only for what she realized she would never have with him, but for the loss of the friendship and ease they’d once shared.

  Distracted by stealing glances at Gabe from beneath her lowered lids, she’d missed the exchange between him and her aunt, and only partially registered the others had started forward. As they climbed the stone steps and entered the house, she’d been left standing in the drive.

  “Child, don’t dally.”

  Still rooted in her spot at the bottom of the stairs, Elizabeth snapped to at Aunt Millie’s quick command. Even as she followed in their wake, her body rebelled at having to comply with Gabe’s subtle demand to retire to her chamber. Including Aunt Millie in his dictate alleviated some of her annoyance at his highhandedness, albeit only a little. Most of it remained, simmering.

  She stepped inside, and when she noticed Phoebe huddled at Aunt Millie’s side, Elizabeth chided herself for being so selfish. The child’s earlier wonderment appeared to have been erased by apprehension. Her wide blue eyes glanced around, never staying in one place too long, Jacqueline and Victoria hugged tightly to her chest.

  Elizabeth remembered her reason for being there and marched to the child. Not caring what the servants would think, or even Gabe for that matter, she scooped the little girl into her arms and said softly, “Don’t worry, sweet, we can explore everything together.”

  She turned and addressed Gabe. “Please ensure my chamber is beside Phoebe’s. A connecting door would be ideal.”

  Gabe brought his full attention to her and the penetration of his deep brown eyes pierced her heart. She hadn’t been prepared for the effect of meeting his gaze—not after how he had avoided her all day. Her heart melted before she could remind her body of his rejection.

  His eyes darted between her and his child. A spark of something flared in the brown depths but it was masked before she could identify it. “I had the nursery prepared for Phoebe. Your rooms are on the floor below.”

  She raised her chin. “That won’t do. Until suitable care for Phoebe is established, I want her close to me, so I can ensure she is being properly attended.”

  He took a step nearer, almost causing her to step back, and narrowed his eyes. “I assure you, my staff is more than capable of seeing to my daughter.”

  Elizabeth swallowed the gasp at his choice of words, every one as sharp as a knife. Bluntly asserting his right over Phoebe only reminded her of the fragile bond she had with the child. Now that a future with Gabe seemed nonexistent, her separation from the sweet poppet was imminent.

  Fear of losing Phoebe rang through her, igniting her anger.

  Her displeasure propelled her forward, until she stood before Gabe. Phoebe, settled in her arms as she was, created a slight distance between them. The hot retort on her tongue was halted by Aunt Millie placing a gentle hand on Elizabeth’s shoulder.

  “Why don’t I take Phoebe for a walk while the two of you sort this out.” Aunt Millie extracted the child from Elizabeth’s embrace. Hand in hand, the two turned to exit the house when the older woman added under her breath, “Preferably out of earshot of the servants.”

  At the mention of the servants, Eli
zabeth became aware of the collection of eyes on her and Gabe. They must have gathered in preparation of their arrival. Before embarrassment from her outburst settled over her, Gabe grabbed her arm and ushered her into a room off the hall.

  More angered with his handling of her than relieved by his rescue, she confronted him the moment they stepped into the room, pulling her arm free. “What do you think you are doing?”

  The door clicked shut behind him. Her eyes flew to the wooden barrier, then back at Gabe.

  “Don’t worry,” he growled. “Your reputation is safe. If nothing else, my staff is loyal and won’t think twice about a closed door.” He walked past her, further into the room. “Besides, I saved you from spouting more nonsense in front of my servants.”

  “Saved me? Saved me?” she raged, swinging to face his retreating back. “How dare you! You ignore a simple, reasonable request and I’m the one spouting nonsense?”

  He pivoted so suddenly that she took an involuntary step back. “What about your demand was reasonable?” Like a predatory cat, he continued to advance on her. Not about to accept defeat, she planted her feet, prepared to stand firm.

  “A child’s place is in the nursery. The sooner Phoebe becomes accustomed to that, the better.”

  His insensitivity to the child’s needs astounded her. “Now—after a week of ignoring your daughter—you’ve decided to try your hand at being a father.”

  Anger flashed in his eyes and he roared, “Exactly! I’m her father. Me. Not you. Let us not forget why you are here.”

 

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