The Duke of Nothing (The 1797 Club Book 5)

by Jess Michaels

  “That doesn’t mean what I did was right. Even though she said yes, I…I can’t pursue her.”

  Simon frowned. “Why?”

  Baldwin caught his breath. “I can’t, that’s all. I don’t want to get into it. I must find her, talk to her.”

  He moved to the boots that had been left neatly at the foot of his bed. He paused to stare at them. Helena had put them there. Helena had smiled at him, and he thought he vaguely remembered her kissing his cheek so very sweetly.

  He tugged the boots on and ran a hand through his hair.

  “Baldwin,” Simon said, frustration running through his voice as he did so. “Damn it. Everyone can see something is wrong with you. Why won’t you talk to us? Any of us. All of us? We could help.”

  Baldwin turned. Simon was the most careful of their group. He could say something and make it sound kind even if it was a harsh word. If he confessed to his friend, Simon would be nothing but generous and accepting.

  But it wouldn’t change Baldwin’s future. Nor his part in making it.

  “I can’t,” he said. “Now I must find her. Excuse me.”

  Simon sighed. “She’s your perfect match, mate,” he called after him. “Meg said she was off toward the lake half an hour ago. Said she needed a walk to clear her mind.”

  Baldwin ignored him, but his heart leapt as he rushed from the room and toward the woman who so tangled everything in his mind. The one he owed far more to than an awkward fingering in his study chair.

  Normally Helena would have been captivated by the beauty of the scene before her. The lake on Baldwin’s property was vast, and in the early morning coolness it steamed up fog from its mirrored reflection. Under any other circumstance, she would have drunk it all in, memorizing the moment so she could call it up later and find a little peace.

  But today was not normal and the appreciation she would have felt was cut down by more than half as she stood at the water’s edge. All she could think about was Baldwin. All she could think about was pleasure.

  She’d never experienced such a thing before. But it was…magical. And she wanted more.

  “I’m becoming the wanton my uncle always accused me of being,” she murmured, shivering as she thought of what kind of reaction Uncle Peter would have if he knew. She’d be on the first boat back to Boston, where she had no one to take her in.

  Behind her, she heard a thundering sound and turned to watch a horse barreling down the hill toward the lake. Even from a distance, she recognized the rider. It was Baldwin.

  She caught her breath as he brought the animal up short and swung down. He was still wearing his trousers and shirt from the previous night, wrinkled though they were by sleep. He had dark circles beneath his eyes and he looked slightly sick. Not that she was surprised. The poor man had to have a hangover.

  And yet he was still here.

  “Helena!” he called out as he crossed the distance between them in a few long strides.

  She clenched her hands before her and tried to sound calm as she said, “Y-your Grace. What are you doing here?”

  He ran a hand through his hair and his gaze darted from hers. “I heard you’d come down here to walk and I know I am disturbing your peace. I know you likely want nothing to do with me after my shocking behavior last night, but I had to find you. I had to speak to you. If you will allow it.”

  She blinked at the words and the apologetic tone they were spoken in. “I—of course, Baldwin.”

  He sagged just a fraction, as if he’d actually believed she might turn away from him. Then he held out a hand, like he would touch her. She held her breath for it, wanting it, needing that touch. But before he could, he jerked his hand away.

  “I’m so sorry,” he whispered.

  She shook her head. “Sorry?”

  “For my beastly behavior last night,” he clarified, his dark eyes holding hers, searching them. She saw his desperation reflected there. His deep regret. It cut her to the bone to see that he was sorry for what they’d done.

  “You were not beastly,” she said.

  He leaned away. “I was, I know I was. I got…bad news during the ball. Something about my finances that I hoped I could resolve, but now seems…well, it’s not going to happen. At least not now. I want you to know that I rarely drink to excess. But I was…I was…”

  “Desperate,” she filled in when he could not.

  His head dipped. “Yes, Helena. I was desperate. I thought I could hide in my chamber like some kind of petulant child. To drown my frustrations just this one time. It was churlish and wrong, but I knew I’d be no good company at the party. But when you came in—”

  He cut himself off and Helena caught her breath. The pain slashed on his face was so real. “Baldwin,” she whispered.

  “No, don’t offer me comfort,” he said, his tone hard. “I do not deserve it. You came to check on me, which was far more kindness than I deserve from you. I rewarded that kindness with markedly ungentlemanly behavior.”

  Helena shook her head, but he held up a hand and looked like he would continue this self-berating indefinitely. But she could not let it stand. Not now. Not when her own thoughts on the matter were so different.

  She stepped forward, uncertain what she could do to stop him from his self-recrimination. She touched his arm and it became clear. She lifted on her tiptoes, caught his cheeks in her palms and kissed him.

  For a moment he was stiff, surprised, but then he softened and his arms came around her as he sighed against her lips in surrender. She deepened the kiss, tasting him for just a moment before she blushed and backed away.

  He stared at her, but he did not return to talking.

  “Stop,” she whispered. “Please.”

  He sighed, ragged and pained. “But—”

  “Please, won’t you let me speak?” she asked.

  She could see him battling with her request. He clearly wanted to confess more. To berate himself further. To try to convince her that he deserved censure for those beautiful moments in his study.

  But finally he nodded. “Yes, yes of course.”

  “If the grass weren’t so wet, we could sit together,” she said, motioning to the lakeside.

  His eyebrows lifted and then he strode off to his horse. He opened the saddlebag and removed a folded blanket, which he spread out before the lake.

  “You are always prepared,” she said with a laugh as she took her place.

  He shook his head. “Not me. I was meant to ride with Simon this morning, so my man put the blanket in, just in case we wished to stop and chat.”

  “Well, I’m glad for it.” They settled onto the blanket and she drew a deep breath. “You didn’t do anything wrong last night, Baldwin.”

  His expression twisted with more of the guilt he carried around with him constantly. “You are a lady,” he insisted.

  She sucked in a breath. “No, I’m not. Not by any standard that could be used to judge one such.”

  He looked confused. “I don’t know what you could mean.”

  She sighed. “You must recall last night. You were not so very drunk, Baldwin.”

  “Yes,” he said slowly. “I recall it and there is nothing that happened that would make me think you’re not a lady. Just that I am not a gentleman.”

  Heat flooded her cheeks, and yet she could stop herself from what she was about to do. To say. She didn’t want to. Baldwin had already given so much of himself to her. The only way to comfort him that he was not a monster was to make him understand her own secrets.

  “Do you recall when you said that someone had hurt me?” she pressed.

  His eyes came shut and he made a low sound in his throat. “Yes,” he whispered. “You told me I was right, but I went forward anyway. If I’d been a little more sober—”

  “You went forward because I wanted you to,” she insisted, catching his hands and forcing him to look at her. “You did not force anything on me. You told me again and again that I could say just a word and you wou
ld stop. I never said a word because I didn’t want that.”

  “Still, what I did was wrong,” he said softly. “There is the topic of ruination—”

  “Do you think you’re the only one with secrets, Baldwin?” she interrupted with a shake of her head. “You did not ruin me last night. Not just because you didn’t…you didn’t…take me. But because even if you had, you would not have been the first to do so.”

  She watched his face change. He went pale and his expression tightened. Her heart broke as it did, for she knew what would happen next. The censure, the distancing, perhaps even the talk.

  “Tell me,” he said, and his voice was so soft, so gentle. She heard his empathy and she saw it, too, as his face continued to change as what she said sank in.

  This was not a reaction she was accustomed to. She turned her face and looked out at the lake. “He was a suitor of Charity’s, back in Boston,” she said. “Looking to get her purse, of course. She didn’t want him and she had given him a vicious set down. I felt…sorry for him.”

  He nodded. “Of course you did. You’re kind.”

  “Too kind, it seems,” she said with a laugh she had been using to cover up her pain for years. “I found him in the garden, angry and pacing. I tried to be sympathetic, to soften what she’d said. I thought I’d helped, but then he grabbed me and—”

  She cut herself off and drew a ragged breath as those images she fought so hard to keep at bay came back. That other man’s hands, his mouth, his cruel smile as he took what she did not want to give.

  Baldwin’s jaw set. “He forced you.”

  She nodded. “Yes.” A tear escaped her eye and she wiped it away. “He took what he desired and he left me in tatters in the gazebo. My cousin found me. She was actually…kind, as she can sometimes be. But once my family found out, it ruined me.”

  He wrinkled his brow. “But they knew you’d been assaulted.”

  She shrugged. “Whether I gave or he took, they felt I could have been more prudent. Perhaps they were right at that. I should not have followed him.”

  “Just as you shouldn’t have followed me,” he ground out.

  She jerked her gaze to him in horror. “Don’t you dare compare yourself to him, or what we did last night to what he did three years ago.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said, and it was so very clear that he was. “That was cruel of me to do so after what you’ve endured. How did you survive?”

  “I cried quite a bit,” she said with a sigh. “I reached out for support and found no one there to reach back. So I learned to depend upon myself. I learned to ride out all the horrible emotions that come out when I think of that night. I learned to forgive myself and to recognize that it wasn’t my fault.”

  He tilted his head. “You constantly amaze me,” he murmured, almost more to himself than to her. “You are beautiful and kind and so damned strong. There is no one in the world like you, Helena. No one in any world.”

  Heat flooded her cheeks, not just at his compliment, but at the way he looked at her. Like he truly believed she was some singular, wonderful creature. When she was with him, she could almost believe it, too. And that was why what they’d shared mattered so much. Why she didn’t want it to be a regret.

  “Last night you said something,” she said. “Something about how everyone else gets to have what they want.”

  He ducked his head. “I was rambling, my tongue loosened by one too many drinks.”

  “But you weren’t incorrect. It does sometimes seem like the rest of the world gets to have their dreams and that no matter how hard I try, I cannot. My reward for kindness or hope or survival is to trail after Charity, carrying her train.”

  He glanced up at her. “I’m so sorry.”

  “But I’m not.” She shook her head. “Oh, I’m bungling this. Let me try to be clearer. All of the steps along my path, the good, the bad, the terrible…they have led me to this moment. To this place. To what happened between us last night. I know you are trying to make yourself the villain in those moments where you touched me, but Baldwin, that was the first time I’ve felt alive in years.”

  His jaw set. “Do you mean that?”

  She nodded. “I do. You didn’t ruin me. And if I had asked you to stop, I have no doubt in my mind that you would have.”

  “I wish I had not been so addled by drink,” he mused, “so that my memories would be crystal clear. I want to savor every moment we shared.”

  She smiled, this time not forced. He returned the expression, and in that moment they were the only two people in the world. In the universe. She knew only one way to let that stand. Only one thing she wanted more than any other.

  Slowly, she scooted toward him on the blanket, holding his gaze as she did so. He caught his breath when she was right next to him.

  “You haven’t been drinking now,” she whispered as she leaned up into him.

  “No,” he said as he bent his head to hers. “I have not.”

  Their mouths met and she let out a low sound in her throat. One that released all the need that had been stoked last night. One that spoke of all the desire still burning in her chest. Desire only he could help her stoke and then extinguish.

  He deepened the kiss, angling his head to taste her more thoroughly. She lifted her hands to his upper arms, clinging there as she drowned in him and the pleasure his touch brought her.

  Finally he pulled back a fraction, his gaze foggy as he stared down at her like he was only just seeing her for the first time. “Helena,” he whispered. “I still can’t offer you the future you deserve. You know why.”

  She nodded, pushing away the ache those words caused. “I know,” she said. “But you could give me something else, Baldwin. I-I want you. And I know I’ll never have this chance again to want someone and have that wanting returned. To trust someone to give me what I shouldn’t ask for as a lady.”

  “What are you asking for?” he murmured as he traced her cheek with the tip of his finger.

  She caught her breath and forced herself to be brave. “You, Baldwin. I want you.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Baldwin burned as she said those words. The ones he knew were coming, the ones that made him come back to life after years of being dead, buried in pain and betrayal and failure.

  This ache that he felt for her, it only grew deeper now that he knew her story. Now that he heard her strength.

  “You’re asking for an…affair?” he asked, wishing his voice didn’t waver.

  Her cheeks brightened with high color, and he shuddered as he recalled the same heat entering them when he brought her to completion the night before. Even slightly wobbly, it was a powerful memory he savored far more than he should.

  She wrung her hands and he felt her struggle. Men of their sphere were allowed to explore their desires. Expected to, even. It did not harm their future, assuming one was prudent about it.

  He recognized how different desire was for a woman. Ladies were very often taught that desire was a point of shame. That pleasure was not to be expected. And if they were ruined…

  Well, Helena’s situation summed up the consequences perfectly. She had been assaulted, but the blame was laid at her feet. Somehow she’d had the strength to pull herself through the trauma of that night, but she had suffered for it.

  The idea that she would trust him, gift him, with her reawakening…well, that was the most powerful thing of all.

  “An affair,” she repeated softly, as if hearing those words in her own voice would help her decide if that was her path. “Y-yes,” she stammered at last, and looked at him with clear eyes. “I do want that.”

  He moved even closer to her on the blanket. Now he felt the delicate warmth of her skin against his. Now he felt the way she trembled ever so slightly. He traced his thumb across her cheek and she shivered with the touch.

  “You know what I can and can’t offer you,” he said, hating that he had to say those words. “The idea of taking advantage of you is abhor
rent.”

  She held his stare. “Everyone else gets what they want, Baldwin. I know the limitations. I understand the reasons why. But if we both agree, if we both understand, then no one will take advantage, will they? And this is that chance to get this one little thing that we want.”

  With that statement, she was a siren. He was a sailor, only he saw the rocks, saw the danger. He saw it all and he didn’t care. Because what she offered was so fucking sweet.

  He tilted her face up and kissed her once more. She opened to him right away, and her enthusiasm dissolved any remaining hesitance he might have. He wanted her. She was offering him a chance to have her. And with that chance, he would not only take. He would make sure that this affair was only pleasure to her. That it helped to mute her painful memories. That it would create new ones they could both recall after it was…after it was over.

  He shoved that future away and laid her back on the blanket. He rolled to cover her and shivered when her arms came around his back in welcome and surrender. He had needs, such powerful needs. But right now he didn’t care about those. He wanted her to enjoy this.

  He deepened the kiss and she let out a shuddering sigh against his lips. He drove inside, tasting every inch of her mouth, thrusting with his tongue like he would eventually do with his body. When he felt her relax against him, it was only then that he touched her. He let his hand glide up her side and cupped one breast through her silky gown.

  She arched beneath him with a gasp that broke their kiss, and he drew back to watch her in her pleasure. Last night he’d been too tipsy to really gauge all her reactions well. Right now he reveled in the way her eyes widened and her pupils dilated. In the way her breath hitched when his thumb traced the outline of her nipple. In how she lifted her hips to his, and he doubted she even knew she was doing it because she was lost in his touch.

  “I want to take you, Helena,” he murmured as he kept circling that nipple over and over again. “You cannot fully understand how much I want that.”

  She gave a jerky nod. “I think I understand a little.”