What the Duke Wants

by Kristin Vayden

  Carlotta gazed at him, her heart angry at the unfairness of the situation. How miserable that the longing, the heat in their kisses could never be explored further unless it accompanied a fall from grace.

  Life, as always, was never fair.

  And Carlotta was quite aware of that fact.

  But never so much as right now.

  “You’re resolved?”

  “Yes.”

  “And what if I don’t agree?”

  “Then you’ll be going against my wishes, and in that, reacting in a selfish manner that further explains your intentions towards me.” She held her breath, hoping she didn’t offend him by challenging his honor.

  But there was no other way.

  “Very well.”

  A stony silence followed them to the room with the pianoforte. Once the duke opened the door and led her in, he bid her goodnight and left abruptly. A few moments later the girls and Lady Southridge arrived, giggling and smiling. When they noticed the duke’s absence, Carlotta answered their questioning gazes before they could speak.

  “His grace retired early.”

  Lady Southridge’s brow drew together and she glanced to the door. She took a small step as if debating whether she should drag him from his chambers, but Berty chose that moment to begin to play her latest piece on the pianoforte, stealing Lady Southridge’s attention.

  The girls all took turns, playing perfectly and singing together. As soon as it was acceptable, Carlotta ushered them to bed.

  As she lay on her own pillow not much later, she reminded herself that it was for the best.

  No matter how wonderful his kisses were, they would only serve to destroy her.

  After all, Eve’s sin was to taste the forbidden fruit.

  And there was nothing more forbidden to a governess than her employer.

  Chapter Eleven

  The next day dawned clear and bright. Carlotta helped the girls ready themselves after breakfast and soon they were waiting in the parlor for the carriage to be brought about. The girls seemed nervous. Carlotta watched them carefully and tried to reassure them with a hand to their cheek or a slight squeeze to their shoulder.

  As the time for their departure arrived, Lady Southridge came into the room, her nose red and her eyes watery. “Oh my dears! I cannot believe it! All our travels and today of all days I am to catch a sniffle! I tried all morning to relieve myself of this miserable—” She coughed delicately into a handkerchief. “But is of no use! How I wish I could go! But you must enjoy your time without me.” She gave a trembling smile.

  Then sneezed.

  “How miserable, Lady Southridge.” Carlotta felt pity for the poor woman. There was never anything as miserable as feeling poorly.

  Except for maybe pining for a duke she could never have.

  Yes, being sick was second to that.

  “You go on without me,” she said again. As if on cue, Bethanny strode forward and wrapped her arms around Lady Southridge’s shoulders. “I’ll stay with you, that way you’ll have some company.”

  “Yes, me too,” Beatrix said quietly, going to stay beside her sister.

  Berty bit her lip, glancing to Carlotta then to Lady Southridge, she seemed to debate her options.

  “Berty…” Bethanny spoke lowly, warning.

  “Oh all right. I’ll stay too.” She pouted and walked over to the rest of her sisters.

  “There’s no reason for me to go then—”

  “No! I insist! You must attend Charles, he’ll be ever so lonely.”

  “I’m sure his grace—”

  “Needs you,” Lady Southridge completed, her voice suspiciously strong.

  As if realizing, she coughed. Twice.

  “But—”

  “Ah! Here is Tibbs, I’m assuming the carriage is ready?” she asked.

  “Indeed.”

  “Please escort Miss Carlotta to the carriage. Is his grace waiting?”

  “Indeed. Miss Carlotta.”

  Carlotta tried to protest, but found herself all but pushed into the hall by Lady Southridge who promptly closed the parlor door and left her standing quite dazed with Tibbs.

  “Surely I should—”

  “Attend his grace,” Tibbs completed. It seemed as if no one wanted her to complete her own thoughts any more.

  Or make her own decisions seeing as she soon found herself sitting with the duke in the open carriage on their way to Bath.

  Alone.

  Actually, a driver and two footmen, but it felt alone.

  To alleviate her own tension, she nodded to the duke then turned to stare at the scenery.

  “Where, might I ask, are the rest of our party?” the duke asked as they made their way down the lane towards Bath.

  “Pardon?” Carlotta turned her gaze towards him.

  “The girls, Lady Southridge? Why are they not attending us?” he asked mockingly.

  “You weren’t aware?”

  “Apparently not.”

  “Lady Southridge came down with a sniffle.” Carlotta explained.

  “Hm. And the wards?”

  Carlotta felt her eyes narrow. However, knowing he said that simply to spite her, she chose not to rise to his bait.

  “They elected to stay with her. They seem quite attached to her.”

  “Or simply overwhelmed and obedient.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Lady Southridge is far from sick, I assure you. Disease doesn’t dare interfere with her plans. Illness itself shakes in fear of that woman. I’ve never seen her sick a day in my life. It’s unlikely she started now.”

  “She appeared quite ill.”

  “Odd, I saw her earlier and there seemed to be nothing amiss.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yes, indeed. Oh.”

  “What do… that is… why would she—”

  “Because she is of the mind that you are the very woman to save my blackened soul from my previous life of a wastrel.”

  “Oh.”

  “I believe you said that already.”

  “Indeed.”

  “We’ve used that one too. For a governess you’re surprisingly narrow-minded on your use of vocabulary.”

  “I’ll disregard your insult in light of the situation.”

  “How noble of you, Miss Carlotta.” He nodded as he said her name, as if communicating his effort to respect her wishes.

  She smiled a thank you.

  “Why would Lady Southridge consider me your salvation?” she asked, immediately regretting the question. All it would do was open the conversation she had so neatly closed the night before. “Forget I asked that.”

  “If that is what you wish.”

  “It is.”

  They continued on in silence for a few minutes. Carlotta tried to think of intelligent conversation but kept drawing a blank.

  “Tell me, how far away is your home from Bath?”

  “It’s a morning’s ride by carriage.”

  “I see. Did you travel there often?”

  “Depending on the season.”

  “Must you always answer so succinctly? Can you not elaborate in the slightest?”

  “To what end? That part of my life is no longer.”

  “Be that as it may, it was still a part of you at some point. And because of that, has contributed to the woman you are today.”

  “The contribution you mention is obsolete.”

  “Your tone smacks of bitterness, Miss Carlotta. What are you not telling me?”

  “Forgive me, I’m not bitter. Truly. It’s somewhat difficult, being close to where my home once was, only to have it be my home no longer,” she answered honestly, repentant at her short tone earlier.

  “That would indeed be difficult.” He paused. “So tell me your favorite sights in Bath.”

  They carried on that conversation in various veins throughout their quick tour of Bath till they ended up in Sydney Park. The duke’s hand was warm as it covered hers, helping her alight from the carriage. The
thrill of his touch was a pleasure she allowed herself to enjoy for only a moment before she released his grip. They strode to the river’s edge and watched the languid water flow softly.

  “We shouldn’t tarry long. Your guest will be wondering about us.” It was a pathetic excuse but she was desperate. At this point, she felt her resolve to keep distance between them crumbling.

  “Without eating? Your ladylike appetite might be able to withstand our journey back, but mine will not!” he teased, his clear eyes crinkling around the edges with humor.

  “Then far be it from me to cause you to suffer,” Carlotta teased as she began to lay out their meal.

  “My stomach thanks you.”

  Carlotta couldn’t resist a saucy smile at his banter and handed him a bright red apple.

  “Ah, the forbidden fruit,” he commented lightly.

  “Pardon?” Carlotta felt her good humor drain. Hadn’t she called him that just last night as she pondered on her bed?

  “The forbidden fruit. I suppose we don’t know if it was truly an apple that Eve ate when tempted by the serpent, but the same truth still applies.” He remarked as he rolled the apple between his palms before taking a bite.

  “And what truth is that?” Carlotta asked.

  “That we are doomed to always want what we cannot have.” His eyes were dark, his full lips drawn into a firm line.

  “Indeed.”

  “Is this where you took the girls?” he asked as they finished their meal. Standing he helped her up as well.

  “Yes. You should have seen their delighted faces when I gave them bread crumbs to feed the ducks.”

  “They enjoyed themselves?”

  “Immensely.”

  “I wouldn’t suppose you had any extra bread crumbs on hand?” he asked, his blue eyes dancing with mischief.

  “I do.” She opened up a hamper that a footman had deposited behind them and pulled out a tied linen cloth. “Here.” She opened it and handed a chunk of stale bread to the duke. His warm fingers caressed her palm as he took it, his darkening gaze communicating that the contact was more than intentional.

  Carlotta dropped her gaze.

  “Stale bread is quite a delicacy for ducks, is it not?” he teased, his countenance brightening with charm.

  “They are quite assertive, aren’t they?” she commented with a laugh as a duck thumped another of its companions with its wing in efforts to steal an unusually large chunk of bread.

  “They simply know what they want,” the duke commented lightly.

  Carlotta glanced from the ducks to him.

  His expression was anything but light. Rather it was smoldering with double meaning. Her heart caught in her throat as she felt her lips tingle with the memory of his kiss.

  As if sensing her weakening he took a step forward, then paused, his expression a myriad of conflict. Carlotta broke their gaze and turned to open the hamper once more to deposit the now empty linen.

  “We should return,” she commented lightly and stood not paying attention to her whereabouts. Her waist was warmed by his hand as he pulled her back against his chest. His breath was warm as it caressed her neck, his lips inviting as they placed a lingering and heated kiss just below her ear.

  “Your grace, any one could see—”

  “Let them.”

  “But—”

  “Carlotta, you talk entirely too much,” he said lightly as he traced up her arm with his other hand, leaving delightfully warm tingles. Slowly he turned her around. Unable to meet his gaze, she stared at his perfectly tied cravat, swallowing her own desire.

  “Carlotta,” he whispered, petitioning her.

  It was her undoing.

  Slowly lifting her gaze, she visually caressed his strong jaw, the soft sensual curve of his lip, the straight arch of his nose until she finally lost herself in the blue regard that burned like the hottest part of a flame.

  He leaned in to kiss her, but paused as if warring against himself. No doubt, he was considering her words from last night.

  To kiss her would prove his selfish intentions. Or so she said. Right now though, it would be more of a selfish action to not kiss her.

  Never had she wanted anything so desperately.

  Forbidden fruit.

  Before she could restrain herself, she rose upon tiptoes and kissed him. It was delicious; he tasted like apples and smelled like spice.

  His passion consumed her.

  Yet all she could think about was how this was her goodbye kiss. All the other kisses, had been more or less taken. Not this one. This one was of her own accord.

  Tragically, it was also meant to be goodbye.

  He deepened the exchange, and Carlotta felt her control slipping to the precipice of the edge of her own desire. Abruptly she pulled back, not knowing she was so close to the edge of the river. She wobbled on her heel, waving her hands wildly to gain her balance.

  It was no use.

  She fell, with a mighty splash, into the river.

  “Carlotta!” the duke shouted, reaching in and pulling her out.

  Her dress clung to her, the water chilly and immediately causing her to shiver. He fussed over her like a mother hen and draped his coat over her, in spite of her claim that such a foolish action would ruin the coat.

  “Better to ruin the coat than cause you to catch a fever,” he remarked, firmly.

  The open carriage was chilly and Carlotta shivered the whole way back. He seemed to debate what to do. Finally, with quite hesitant movements, he slipped over to her side of the carriage and reached for her hand. With a question in his gaze, he paused to make sure she wouldn’t refuse him.

  After a moment of indecision, she decided that any warmth would be welcome, and reached out to meet his grasp half way. His gaze warmed, like slowly melting honey. The heat from his hand traveled up her arm and into her chest, making the urge to shiver lessen. But even with the connection of their hands, the earlier amusement and lighthearted banter was now stilted. We are forever doomed to want what we cannot have. The duke’s statement haunted her, taunted her, and reminded her of just how true it was. To his credit, the duke tried to pull her into conversation, and while her responses were polite, she felt herself withdrawing into her own shell for protection.

  When they arrived back, the girls spilled out of the house to greet them, stopping short when they saw her shivering and dripping, wearing the duke’s coat.

  Lady Southridge followed behind the girls, appearing quite miraculously recovered. She eyed Carlotta questioningly.

  “Did you enjoy yourselves?” Bethanny asked, her eyes darting from her to the duke.

  “Did you feed the ducks?” Berty asked.

  “How was your trip?” Lady Southridge asked, her eyes dancing with… hope?

  “Yes, Lady Southridge, and yes, Berty we did feed the ducks, and yes, Bethanny,” Carlotta responded.

  “And you can all ask your questions once Miss Lottie is dry, now, off with you all!” Charles barked impatiently and, because apparently she wasn’t moving fast enough for him, she found herself swept up into his arms and being carried, quite quickly into the warmth of Greenford Waters.

  “Tibbs!” he shouted for the butler, who had only just stepped from around the corner.

  And was now wincing from the loud bellow from the duke.

  “Please have a bath readied for Miss Lottie, there was a… mishap and we do not want her catching a chill.”

  “Very good, your grace.” He bowed and left.

  “I can walk,” she ground out. The warmth of his hands seemed to engulf her, penetrating the chill and igniting a fire that she would have rather ignored.

  “No, you can’t,” he replied stubbornly

  “I—”

  “No, you can’t.”

  “Do you always simply tell people what to do, or am I the only fortunate one?” She turned to narrow her eyes at him.

  “I—do not have to answer that.” He gave her but a slight glance before he turned
down the hall towards her room.

  “I see my point is made.” She raised an eyebrow.

  “Most women would be thankful I was seeing to their welfare,” he responded impatiently.

  “I’m not most women.”

  He paused mid-stride and gazed at her with piercing intensity. “Believe me, Miss Lottie, that is a truth I’m far from missing. Now…” He paused, glancing to her lips then visibly forcing himself to meet her gaze once more. “I promise to release you once you are to your room, but allow me the honor of getting you there quickly, and without further interruption.”

  She paused, wanting to argue, but seeing that it was for some unknown reason, important to him to act so needlessly chivalrous, nodded instead.

  As they reached her room, he set her down gently, his hands slightly caressing her legs as he set her upright. “Thank you for your company today.” He reached out and grasped her hand; lifting it slowly he let his penetrating gaze caress her face till he placed a very long, lingering, and delightful kiss to her hand.

  “You’re welcome.”

  With a very polite bow, he backed away, his dark gaze intent and anything but polite.

  And before she could give into the impulse and smolder of his gaze, she rushed to the safety of her room.

  ****

  Charles walked back towards the entrance and was quickly intercepted by Lady Southridge.

  “So?” Lady Southridge questioned, her eyes wide with excitement.

  “So… what?” Charles questioned. The girls had fallen into step behind Lady Southridge, who was following him and well, he felt quite like a mother duck with four little impatient ducklings nipping at his heels.

  Rather, he felt like the bread crumb they were all chasing after.

  “Come now, Charles, surely you figured out how to use this perfectly orchestrated situation to woo her.”

  “Lady Southridge!” He turned and eyed the young girls meaningfully.

  “Oh, they knew all about it. They helped. Didn’t you girls?” she asked, beaming with pride.