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Some Like It Wicked (Mills & Boon Historical) (Daring Duchesses - Book 1)

Page 11

by Carole Mortimer


  Pandora gasped softly. ‘That was her revenge upon you, to marry your own father?’

  ‘Oh, yes.’ Rupert could still remember the shock of receiving his father’s letter, of reading of that gentleman’s intention of marrying the same woman whom Rupert had so recently bedded.

  ‘Could you not have prevented the marriage?’

  His eyes still glittered with remembered anger as he told Pandora bleakly, ‘I was too late. The date for the wedding to take place had already passed by the time the letter reached me.’

  ‘And did you—were you ever able to discuss the matter with your father?’

  ‘And say what?’ Rupert grimaced. ‘That his wife had occupied my bed before his own?’

  ‘Well, no, of course you could not have said that, but—he had not heard any of the gossip in society concerning the two of you?’

  Rupert shook his head. ‘My father had even less time for society than I and the two of us were never on close terms—I am too much like my mother, and the Duke and Duchess’s marriage was an arranged and never happy one. My father and I were ever uneasy in each other’s company, and as he didn’t already know, I didn’t feel I could tell him. I could not confide that his new Duchess and I had once been—intimate.’

  ‘No, I can see how you could not tell your father that,’ Pandora agreed. ‘And was the Duke’s second marriage a happy one?’

  Rupert’s mouth became a bitter twist. ‘He was blindly besotted with his young and dazzlingly beautiful wife. As he was no doubt intended to be.’ He frowned darkly. ‘Patricia, on the other hand, took every opportunity available in which to attempt to entice me back into her bed.’

  Pandora’s brows rose. ‘And did you ever—’

  ‘Don’t even suggest it, Pandora!’ he warned harshly, jaw tightly clenched. ‘I have told you, the woman repulses me. I would as soon touch a snake as I would her!’

  He spoke so vehemently, and with such distaste, that Pandora could not doubt his revulsion. An entirely understandable feeling considering the circumstances under which that lady had married Rupert’s own father. ‘Did your father ever know of those attempts in regard to you, do you think?’

  ‘No, I’m sure he did not, thank God!’ Rupert said. ‘Indeed, the circumstances of this will dictate that he did not,’ he added heavily.

  Pandora eyed him warily. ‘And is it—can it be that it is the circumstances of your late father’s will which now prompt you into proposing marriage to me, a woman you have known only a matter of days?’

  Rupert looked at her with admiration, liking her more and more as he came to know her better. He might indeed have only known her for ‘a matter of days’, but in that short time he had already come to recognise that she was not only a beautiful and desirable woman, but that she also possessed an intuition, an intelligence, which rendered it impossible for him to ever suffer the boredom in her company as he did with so many other women. With all other women, in fact …

  ‘It is indeed,’ he admitted. ‘I wish you to understand that, although my father and I weren’t close, he was nevertheless a man I respected for the strength of his principles and admired for his astuteness and intelligence of mind.’

  Pandora nodded, remembering the late Duke of Stratton as being a handsome man in his sixties. A man who had been much liked and approved of by the ton and whom she had once heard Barnaby describe as being much respected by the House for the sensibility and level headedness of his political views.

  ‘Unfortunately, with regard to his wife, those particular attributes of his nature were completely absent,’ Rupert continued harshly. ‘As such, the late Duke—being, in my opinion, of completely unsound mind where his young and beautiful wife was concerned—made a provision in his will which allows her to continue to live in any of the ducal homes until such time as I should marry!’

  ‘Ah.’ Pandora’s breath left her in a sigh as the truth of Rupert Stirling’s present—and what appeared to be scandalous—living arrangements now became clear to her. ‘And since your father died she has chosen to live in whichever of the ducal homes you also happen to occupy?’

  A low growl escaped him. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Could you not have found other lodgings?’

  Rupert shrugged. ‘I have tried staying at Lord Benedict Lucas’s residence with him, but ultimately found that it proved far too troublesome—if not confusing—when it came to the running of the numerous Stratton estates and investments, and that mistakes were being made which would not have happened if I had been in residence at Stratton House. Tiresome as it is, unpleasant as it is, I have been forced to suffer the Dowager Duchess’s constant presence in my homes for almost six months now.’

  Pandora could never imagine herself throwing herself into the company of a gentleman, when that gentleman had shown her in every way possible that he did not desire her, or her company. Indeed, after their wedding night she and Barnaby, whenever possible, had chosen to live in separate residences. As such, it was inconceivable to her that Patricia Stirling should be so without pride that she now hounded Rupert by following him from house to house with only one intention in mind.

  ‘Would marriage to me really be such purgatory, Pandora?’

  She raised startled lids as she realised Rupert was now standing close enough to reach down and take her hand gently in his before pulling her up to stand only inches in front of him, at once reminding her of how pleasurably he had made love to her such a short time ago, and of her own uninhibited responses to that passion …

  Chapter Nine

  Nevertheless …

  Pandora pulled her hand from within Rupert’s grasp before stepping away from him, finding she was able to breathe more easily when not in his close proximity. ‘Has it occurred to you that perhaps Patricia realised her mistake once she was married to your father? That perhaps she was, and still is, in love with you?’

  ‘I assure you, that woman loves only one person—and that’s herself.’ Rupert’s mouth twisted contemptuously. ‘And whatever motive is behind her machinations, with regard to me, she won’t lose sight of that fact.’

  Pandora bit her lip. ‘If that’s true—’

  ‘It is.’

  She couldn’t doubt him when he spoke so certainly. ‘Then it is indeed a sad state of affairs and you have my every sympathy, but—’

  ‘Don’t repeat your refusal yet, Pandora!’ Rupert rasped forcefully as she was about to do exactly that. ‘Think about it, overnight perhaps, and let me know your decision tomorrow, in the clear light of morning.’

  A frown creased her brow. ‘Might I be allowed to finish?’

  He straightened at the rebuke. ‘Of course. I apologise.’ He made her a bow.

  Pandora nodded coolly. ‘I was about to say that marriage to me may release you from one unacceptable situation, but it will most certainly place you immediately in another. Namely, you would find yourself married to a woman it’s strongly rumoured was unfaithful to her previous husband. Indeed, it’s well known that her husband was killed during a duel he fought with the man believed to be her lover, who also died.’

  Rupert couldn’t help but be aware that she used the terms ‘strongly rumoured’ and ‘the man believed to be her lover’. And was that previous husband without fault or blemish himself? He already suspected Barnaby Maybury was far from innocent, and if Rupert had not spent most of the day seeking out Pandora, he might by now have had proof that he was not.

  She gave him a startled glance. ‘Would any fault or blemish on his part excuse such behaviour by his wife?’

  Rupert studied her through narrowed lids, once again aware that those deep violet-coloured eyes appeared to be hiding many secrets—secrets which the stubborn set of her mouth told him she had no intention of confiding in him.

  Secrets, which if Pandora did agree to become his wife, he was equally as determined to exact time and energy in extracting from her!

  If she were to become his wife …

  A circumstance whi
ch didn’t look at all likely at this moment, resulting in Rupert feeling all the more determined that she would accept him!

  ‘That would depend upon what those faults had been,’ he finally answered her slowly.

  She tapped one small foot on the floor. ‘As I have said, there are dozens—probably hundreds—of women in society who would be only too happy to accept a proposal of marriage from you, so why do you persist in pressing me?’

  ‘I believe hundreds may be an exaggeration, Pandora.’ Rupert eyed her mockingly. ‘As to why I have chosen you over any of them …’ He took a determined step towards her, at once aware of the flush that entered her cheeks and the shallowness of her breathing, evidence—if he should need it—that she was as susceptible to the physical attraction that undoubtedly existed between them as he was. ‘These past few days have shown me that we would deal very well together, Pandora. Both in bed and out of it.’

  Her eyes widened as she gasped. ‘You should not talk openly of such things!’

  This woman was a complete enigma, Rupert decided somewhat ruefully—which was perhaps one of the reasons for his interest. On the one hand she had been a wife for three years and a widow for one, and not a faithful wife either if rumour were to be believed, and on the other she reacted to any of his more risqué remarks as a young girl might just out of the schoolroom, to the point that she blushed and could no longer meet his gaze. It was, Rupert acknowledged, as intriguing as it was frustrating—as well as succeeding in making him more determined than ever to know all of her secrets.

  ‘All I’m asking is that you take the time to think on the advantages of becoming my wife, Pandora, before you refuse me out of hand,’ he reasoned softly.

  Her cheeks coloured prettily. ‘Advantages?’

  ‘I wasn’t actually referring to those advantages,’ he teased. ‘As my wife, my Duchess, there would no longer be any need to remove yourself to the country, or for you to relinquish the comfort of your new friendships with the Duchesses of Clayborne and Woollerton,’ he continued quickly as she would have spoken. ‘Something which I am sure you have no real wish to do.’

  ‘No …’ A light of hope had entered those violet eyes at this last realisation.

  Not terribly flattering to Rupert’s own charms, he acknowledged self-derisively, but so determined was he now to secure this woman as his wife that he was not above using any means at his disposal. ‘I will leave you now, Pandora, in order to allow you to consider my offer in peace and solitude.’

  ‘Oh, but—’

  ‘I will call again tomorrow for your answer. Your servant, ma’am.’ He made her a formal bow—a completely incongruous politeness considering the two of them had now been conversing in her bedchamber alone for an hour or more!

  ‘I— Yes.’ Pandora was now too flustered, both by Rupert and his conversation, to do any more than instinctively make a curtsy before ringing the bell for Bentley.

  Only to severely admonish herself the moment he had departed her bedchamber in the company of her butler, for not being more insistent that he accept her refusal to his marriage proposal. As things now stood, she must now expect another visit from Rupert Stirling tomorrow!

  Which was perhaps what she had really wanted all along …?

  Pandora dropped down weakly on to the side of her bed, her thoughts ones of confusion and contradictions. The scandal that still surrounded her past dictated that she could not marry Rupert Stirling. Could she …?

  As he had pointed out, if she agreed to marry him, she would no longer be the scandalous Duchess of Wyndwood but the far more respectable Duchess of Stratton, the wife of a man whom no member of the ton would ever dare to challenge regarding the woman he chose to take as his wife, let alone insult that wife within his earshot or out of it.

  And as Rupert had also so succinctly pointed out, if she became his wife, then she would no longer have to remove herself from society and retire to the country, or give up the friendships she had with Sophia and Genevieve; after years of not daring to form close friendships, for fear those friends might ask questions about her marriage, she had come to value these two new friendships all the more highly.

  Looked at in that particular way, there were no disadvantages to becoming Rupert Stirling’s wife.

  Except Rupert Stirling himself …

  He was, without doubt, the most annoyingly arrogant man she’d ever met—as well as being the most wickedly handsome and exciting!

  As such, how could she, a woman with little or no experience of such things, ever hope to engage his interest for any longer than it took him to bed her and just as quickly become bored by her? Which, she feared, would then place her in a marriage as unhappy as her previous one had been, if for totally different reasons.

  No, Pandora could not, in all conscience, accept Rupert’s offer of marriage, and she would tell him so when he called upon her tomorrow.

  The matter now settled in her mind, Pandora felt a renewed determination to remove herself from London, and continued with her plans accordingly.

  ‘—seem to be quite yourself this evening, Rupert?’ Lord Benedict Lucas—Lucifer—prompted lazily that same evening as the two gentlemen sat sprawled in chairs at their club on either side of the small fire burning in the fireplace to dispel the chill of the evening.

  Rupert had trouble bringing his attention back to the man sitting opposite him, evidence that he was indeed distracted this evening. ‘Perhaps, Benedict, that’s because I am seriously contemplating the idea of marriage.’

  The other man raised dark brows. ‘You are?’

  ‘Don’t look so surprised, Benedict, when we are both all too aware of exactly the reason I am in need of a wife.’

  His friend grimaced. ‘And do you have a particular lady in mind?’

  Rupert’s mouth quirked. ‘One with mesmerising violet-coloured eyes.’

  Benedict sat up abruptly, all laziness gone from his posture. ‘You surely can’t mean Pandora Maybury?’

  Rupert smiled at his friend’s obvious surprise. ‘The very same.’

  ‘I—but—I’m aware that she attended the opera with you yesterday evening—who in the ton is not!—but— My dear chap, are you sure she is the right choice of bride for you?’ Benedict looked slightly rattled. ‘I mean to say—what of the past scandal?’

  Rupert’s humour faded, his eyes becoming glacial. ‘I have long valued our friendship, Benedict, and sincerely hope I will continue to do so for many years to come, but I’ll not allow even you to talk disparagingly of the woman I have asked to become my wife.’

  His friend’s brows rose at the iciness of his tone. ‘You have already asked her?’

  ‘Yes,’ he clipped.

  Benedict gave a slightly dazed shake of his head. ‘Then why did you not just tell me that congratulations are in order?’

  ‘Because they are not. The lady has yet to give me her reply,’ he explained curtly at Benedict’s questioning glance.

  ‘I beg your pardon?’ Benedict frowned. ‘One would have thought she would have snatched up such an offer so fast you might have lost an arm—or some other vital part of your anatomy!’

  Rupert looked pensive. ‘One would have thought a lot of things about Pandora, but it’s now my considered opinion that many of those thoughts would be entirely wrong.’

  Benedict eyed him curiously for several long moments before stating, ‘You like her.’

  ‘I would hardly ask any woman to become my wife whom I did not desire,’ he said evasively.

  ‘No, I mean you really like her, and not just the beauty of her mesmerising violet eyes or her looks,’ Benedict murmured speculatively.

  If he did—and to date Rupert had not allowed himself to think about the subject too deeply—then it was not something he intended to discuss, even with a friend as close as Benedict Lucas. ‘For obvious reasons I am in need of a wife and, because she suits my requirements, I have chosen Pandora Maybury to become that wife,’ he said in a bored voice.


  ‘And your requirements are …?’

  ‘Beauty, brains and desirability.’

  ‘Beauty, brains and desirability …’ Benedict repeated slowly. ‘And what of the ability to produce your heirs? As you know, her marriage to Maybury, although of several years’ duration, was also childless.’

  That was a subject Rupert had given even less thought to than his liking for Pandora! Nor did he wish to think about it now. Indeed, Rupert found the idea of Pandora being intimate with another man, even her previous husband, to be utterly distasteful. Which was a decidedly odd state of affairs, coming from a man who could not now recall even the names of some of his own past lovers.

  ‘I believe that’s a subject for Pandora and me to discuss once we are married,’ he said brusquely.

  ‘Not before?’

  ‘My mother once told me that children are a blessing to a marriage, not a God-given right.’

  ‘And if your new bride fails to give you your heir?’

  ‘Then she will no doubt earn the heartfelt gratitude of my second cousin Godfrey, who will go on to inherit the title,’ Rupert dismissed. ‘Tell me, what do you know of Maybury himself?’

  Benedict shrugged. ‘Not much. He was two or three years our senior, I believe, and not a close acquaintance. I only remember him as being a slender fellow and a bit of a stick in the mud.’

  None of which was any help to Rupert whatsoever in his desire to know more of the dead man. ‘Never mind, I’m sure that I’ll be able to persuade Pandora to speak of him herself once we are better acquainted.’

  Benedict raised dark, speculative brows. ‘You believe she does mean to accept you, then?’

  ‘I have no intention of allowing her to refuse me,’ Rupert announced with grim finality. ‘But enough of that, Benedict—how goes it with you?’

 

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