What Desire Demands, My Duke: A Steamy Historical Regency Romance Novel

by Olivia T. Bennet

  The night air washed William in cold sweat as he stepped out into the street and began to make his way across it, leaving the noise and chaos behind. Nelson was uncharacteristically quiet, undoubtedly just as aware as William that they were not the only ones who’d left the tavern. Only a few seconds after their departure, William noticed that there was not one burly man trailing them, but three.

  Nelson came to his side. “I hope you came prepared?” he asked, his tone light.

  “I left my pistol at home,” William murmured. The dilapidated buildings blocking his carriage drew closer. He contemplated stopping, to keep from revealing Wesley and bringing the man into the mess William was about to walk into. On the other hand, he knew that being weaponless might prove to be his disadvantage if these men meant him harm, and Wesley might be able to even the odds.

  “You become a Duke and suddenly, you forget all that you’ve learned.” Nelson shook his head disappointedly. “Perhaps we have enough time to—”

  “Wait just a moment!”

  Nelson sighed, “—to run.”

  They didn’t have the chance to ignore the words bellowed out to them. Within a second, two men came to stand before them, blocking their only path to freedom. They weren’t very large but the sinister looks on their faces didn’t inspire much confidence in William.

  Slowly, he turned, facing the man who’d spoken. Just as he’d suspected, it was the same man who’d led Elizabeth away that day, only this time, he looked far angrier. He crossed his large arms across his chest, spreading his legs wide as he glowered. “I take it ya’ remember me,” he said to William.

  William nodded. The other two men came to stand to either side of them, reopening their path to freedom. But William wasn’t fooled by it. He knew that if he tried to make a run for it, they would have him within a second. And then, they would truly be at a disadvantage.

  At the very least, Nelson should have a weapon on him—either a knife or a pistol. William hoped it was the latter, and that this man didn’t possess any.

  “What is it?” William asked slowly, keeping his eyes on the man before him. Nelson was posed to act, though his hands were casually placed on his hips. “Do you have something you would like to say to me?”

  The man huffed a laugh devoid of humor. “Then, ya’ do remember me. So, I assume ya’ remember the lass ye took from me that night.”

  “Took?” William tilted his head to the side. “I believe that is the wrong choice of words considering she was begging you to let her go.”

  “Who are you two talking about?” Nelson whispered. William almost elbowed him in the side.

  The man looked sharply at Nelson, his eyes narrowing to slits, then back at William. “It doesn’t matter what she said. It wasn’t any of ya’ business what we were doin’ and I didn’t take very kindly to havin’ ya’ stepping in like that as if ya’ own this street. In fact,” he took one step closer, into a spot of moonlight that revealed his malevolent expression, “I don’t take kindly to the fact that ya’ come around here as if ye’re better than the rest of us, Your Lordship.”

  “Ah,” Nelson sighed, moving his hand around to his waist. “I think that might have been my fault.”

  William didn’t answer him. Nelson might have let those words slip, but William was the one who visited the place, dressing in his usual style. He hadn’t been as discreet as he should have been. Though, not for a second did he think it would lead to a situation like this.

  The man sneered then jerked his chin at them. “Take everything he has.”

  At the command, the other men lunged. William got into action, throwing his forearm up to block the blade that had nearly descended onto him. He punched the man in his stomach and stood his ground even as pain shot up his arm. The thief stumbled a bit at the blow but, with a snarl, was upon him again, swiping the blade in his hand back and forth. William kept darting backwards, narrowly missing the knife’s kiss until his back hit Nelson’s.

  “I must say, William,” Nelson panted. “It is always fun being with you.”

  Nelson fell to the ground, dramatically scrambling out of the way of the other man who was swiping at him with his own knife. William didn’t get the chance to answer him when he caught his assailant’s fist and sailed a punch into his nose. Bones broke under the force of the blow, but the man’s head snapped back into position, only faltering for a moment.

  He was relentless, even with a bleeding nose, coming at William with everything in him. When William once again dodged the blade, catching his arm in a tight hold in the process, the thief rammed his elbow back and it collided into William’s jaw. It knocked him off his feet.

  He fell with a grunt and in a second, a hand reached out to him. He grabbed it, allowed Nelson to haul him to a stand as they switched positions and William faced the man who had attacked Nelson.

  “Though you must admit,” Nelson said quickly, his voice breathless. “I wasn’t the one who brought the trouble this time.”

  No, he wasn’t. The real culprit was safe in Brandon Manor where she belonged.

  William pushed the thought to the back of his head as he tried and failed to dodge the blow of the man before him. It pushed him back, but he held his ground, managing to thwart another punch even as stars swam in his vision. His block was weak, however, and William couldn’t step back far enough to keep the knife from slicing his side. It ripped into his clothes and nicked him.

  The man grinned satisfactorily. He raised the knife again, but before he could do anything, two shots rang through the air.

  The man froze. His eyes went wide. And then the knife slid from his hand and clattered to the ground. William watched as he crumpled, clutching his bleeding side with a groan.

  He turned to see Nelson standing behind him, wearing his usual grin, a pistol in either hand. The other man lay still on the ground. His ears ringing, his body buzzing, William panted, “You had those all along?”

  Nelson only shrugged. “A little tousle is never a bad thing, you know. I thought it would be a good way of celebrating my return to London.”

  William felt a hysterical laugh bubble up his throat. Energy spent, it was all he could to keep standing. “I see a drink was not enough.”

  “Clearly.” A mad glint appeared in Nelson’s eyes as he turned to face the leader of the little pack, who was now cowering in light of the weapons. Behind him, William could see people spilling out of the tavern, no doubt to seek the source of the shots. Soon, they’d be found, and William did not want anyone to see his face in case the authorities got involved.

  Surely, Nelson knew that as well, but he spoke with little urgency when he said, “What shall it be? A bullet in the leg or in the stomach like your friends?”

  “P-Please,” the man begged. William watched in disgust as he lowered himself to his knees. The groans of his men filled the air around them. “Please, have mercy on me.”

  Nelson tilted his head to the side. “What shall I do, William?”

  The man looked at William, every trace of that early vicious expression completely gone. William might have felt a sliver of pity for him—had it not been for what he’d done to Beth. “Leave him be,” he said after a moment. The man’s shoulders sagged. “He is not worth it.”

  “Ah, such a disappointment,” Nelson sighed. Then he tucked the pistol away. As soon as he did, the man scrambled to his feet and ran, leaving his men behind.

  William did the same. He turned in the direction of the buildings and walked away, well aware that Nelson would follow. As soon as he was within the coverage of small alleys, others had found the bleeding men and were helping them to their feet. William continued on without looking back, knowing that his time to escape was quickly growing shorter.

  When they’d made it to the carriage, Wesley appeared alarmed by William’s appearance, but remained where he sat at a raise of William’s hand. He didn’t need the coachman fussing over him. He needed to return home, to leave Nelson behind, and to put this
entire ordeal behind him.

  Nelson, of course, would not let it finish that easily. He leaned against the side of the carriage, smiling as William struggled to climb in. His head and side throbbed and the pain seemed to be spreading throughout the rest of his body with no remorse.

  “I shall be in touch, Your Lordship,” Nelson drawled, chuckling.

  “Do me a large favor, Nelson,” William said, settling into the seats. “Do not bother me ever again.”

  With that said, he slammed the door shut, a signal to Wesley that it was time for them to leave. As the carriage pulled off, William didn’t miss Nelson’s booming laughter.

  It was expected. After all, he’d said that very same thing the last time.

  Chapter 17

  Elizabeth told herself that she should not be saddened by the thought that she couldn’t have dinner with him tonight. When Harold had brought the news to her just an hour before, she’d told herself to think nothing of it.

  Not for a second did she think she’d actually be angry.

  It was irrational anger, shooting up within her like spikes. She’d eaten her dinner on her balcony alone, unable to properly appreciate the lovely spread of stars above her, but rather ruminated on the last thing William had told her, “When you are ready to tell me, I shall be in my office.”

  Well, then, where are you, William? Why have you left the manor without speaking a word of it to me, and simply passed the message along through the butler?

  The more she thought about it, she more upset she found herself. Before she knew it, she’d polished off her dinner without realizing she’d even eaten and after the plates were carted away, Elizabeth found herself alone with her thoughts again. She took to pacing her bedchamber, wanting and failing to calm herself down.

  “I should simply retire to bed,” she said to herself. She’d asked Minnie to bring her a book to read while she unwound, but the book still laid untouched on her vanity table. “Thinking about him will only upset me even further.”

  Determined, Elizabeth approached her bed, but she couldn’t find the strength to crawl under the covers. Agitation rumbled throughout her limbs, spurring her irritation. She stepped away and approached the now closed balcony doors, needing to do something to rid herself of this anxious feeling.

  “If only he had informed me himself,” she mumbled. “Then I would have no reason to feel this way.”

  Even as she said the words aloud, Elizabeth knew they did not hold much truth. She’d been irritated the entire day. From the moment William dared to broach the topic of her returning home, to the fact that he continued to have gowns made for her despite his words, Elizabeth could not find a moment’s rest. To garnish it all, she’d decided to speak her mind over dinner, telling him how unfair of him it was to play with her emotions in such a manner—whether he knew it or not—and she did not even get the chance.

  He will surely hear me speak in the morning, she thought, stalking towards the door. I’ll make sure to give him a piece of my mind without leaving out a single thing!

  Elizabeth was very aware that she was working herself into a frenzy, bolstering her anger for no reason. But anger was better than sadness, than crying. Like a lost party toy, she wished to cling to the feeling, to bring herself back. Even if she felt a little insane as she marched down the hallways, her nightgown fluttering around her ankles, Elizabeth felt more like herself than she had in years.

  A stroll through the gardens should do me some good. Perhaps it shall clear my mind some. I have a feeling I will not be seeing William again until daylight so it will not make sense to—

  Her thoughts came to jarring halt when she reached the top of the grand staircase and spotted William by the front door talking to Harold. She watched him shed his coat, saw him wince when he did, caught sight of the purple bruise stretching across his hard jaw. Every sliver of anger slipped away at the sight, leaving nothing but horror.

  She didn’t say anything, couldn’t find the strength to speak. Her shock held her in place, even as her hand began to shake, as William said something to Harold and then happened to see her standing at the top of the staircase. His face grew grim and he murmured something else to the butler before Harold bowed and turned away, not looking in Elizabeth’s direction.

  Slowly, she began to descend. She kept a hand on the bannister, the cool wood beneath her fingertips an odd comfort to the waves of dread she was suddenly trying to fight. William didn’t move from where he stood. But his gaze held hers, growing darker with every step she made.

  Finally, she came to stand before him, her chest tightening. Finding her words felt impossible in that moment. Elizabeth opened her lips, but nothing came out.

  “There is no need for me to fetch the physician,” he said. Though his voice was soft, it seemed to explode all around her, breaking her out of her trance. “It is not as serious as it appears.”

  Elizabeth opened her lips again, intending to ask what happened to him. That, at least, she needed to know. But the words still wouldn’t come.

  William seemed to have read her mind. He released a long breath, then a hint of a smile appeared on his lips, much to Elizabeth’s confusion. She didn’t understand what about this situation was funny.

  “I suppose you are wondering what has made me this way,” he said to her. “I’d hoped that you would be asleep by the time I returned, though it is not that late. A foolish wish, I suppose, considering it would only be delaying the inevitable. However, it has been quite a taxing night for me, so forgive me if I would rather not delve into such a story while standing in the foyer. I shall retire to be—”

  "I will walk with you. You may explain once we’ve arrived.”

  Elizabeth turned on leaden feet, putting her back to William’s slack face of surprise. Without saying another word, she began to make her way back towards the staircase, listening for his footsteps. After a while, she heard them.

  He didn’t say anything. Elizabeth was far too grateful for that. Standing in the foyer was not where she wanted to be when she heard what had made him wince when shrugging off his coat and had swathed his face in blue and purple colors. She needed to prepare herself for it, so that she could stand strong when the news was broken to her. But as she made her way up the staircase and down the hallways towards his bedchamber, Elizabeth didn’t think she’d found that strength.

  Her legs had grown wobbly by the time she arrived at the bedchamber. She didn’t stop to think about it. She entered his room, sweeping the spacious area for a place to sit, which happened to be the bed. Without hesitation, she made her way over and sank onto the soft mattress, letting out a low breath.

  Elizabeth took a few moments to bring herself together before she lifted her eyes, noticing that William was still standing by the door.

  “I do not think you’ve noticed what you’ve done, Elizabeth,” he said, frowning a little. “Nor where you are.”

  Elizabeth licked her dry lips. She folded her hands in her lap to try and hide the fact that they were shaking. “I know exactly what I’ve done and where we are. Now, explain.”

  His frown deepened. Slowly, William closed the door without taking his eyes off her. As if he expected her to do something, he inched closer to the bed. “Beth...”

  “Explain.” Her voice was curt, almost sharp. Elizabeth didn’t know where that came from and she didn’t care to understand.

  “Very well, then.” The colors danced on his face as he spoke, clearly a painful move of his jaw twisting Elizabeth’s heart. “Nelson and I were attacked at the tavern we like to frequent. Thankfully, I managed to scrape my way out of it with a few bumps and bruises. It is nothing to cause alarm and certainly nothing that you need to be frightened over.”

  “Why were you two attacked?”

  William seemed a little taken aback by how calmly she asked the question. Elizabeth didn’t seem to blame him.

  “The men...they did not like us. They appeared to have a grudge.”

  “Wha
t did you do to them to have made them begrudge you? Was it Nelson they were truly after?”

  “No,” William said with a shake of his head. “I was the one they did not like, though they did not hesitate to attack Nelson as well. He happened to save my life.”

  Elizabeth held his gaze. In that moment, she could hear nothing but the pounding of her heart and the roaring in her ears. She could feel nothing but the slimy fear coursing through her body and taking hold of her senses.

  Once the moment had passed, she asked, “What are you hiding?”

  “I’m not hiding anything,” William said, a little too quickly.

  Elizabeth didn’t respond. She could have told him that she knew him like she knew herself, that she knew that he felt guilty every time he blinked a little more than usual. She could have commended him for being much more adept at hiding it than he used to be but maintained that he could not get it pass her.