The Duke's Bride: Regency Romance (Regency Brides Book 1)

by Joanne Wadsworth

  How incredibly frustrating.

  Chapter 6

  Heartbeat thumping vigorously, Ellie rubbed her chilled arms as she walked alongside the garden wall next to the shimmering waters of Blackgale House’s fishpond. The sheer chiffon of her gown rustled as she trod across the grass growing damp with the coming dew of the night, while from the Atkinson’s ballroom so close, the melodious notes of the next dance floated toward her.

  “I told you to leave, Ellie, and to never return.” Ashten, his cane in hand and limp more pronounced tonight, stomped past a tall cultivated hedge, his black cravat knotted at his neck over a black linen shirt, his black silk waistcoat buttoned. He appeared a very dominating force, only she had no intention of cowering to him. Not tonight. Not ever.

  “I asked you for a dance, Your Grace.”

  “And I declined.” He removed his superfine jacket and held it by the shoulders for her to slip her arms into, his cane resting against his hip as he did. “You’re shivering.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “Put my jacket on. I can’t allow you to catch a chill while on my property.” He flapped his jacket over her head and caught her within the circle of his arms, his body emitting a delicious heat that poured into her.

  “I don’t need your jacket.” She pressed against his chest to insert some space, only he moved not an inch.

  “Yes, you do.” He draped it over her shoulders, his lips near her ear as he lowered his growly voice to a soft murmur, “I apologize if I seem overly grouchy tonight.”

  “You’re always grouchy, or at least you are of late.” She pushed her arms through the sleeves, his jacket completely engulfing her and his wonderfully warm scent as well.

  “I apologize for saying you are riddled with devious bones.”

  “Why have you been lying to me?” She stared him straight in the eye.

  “About what exactly?”

  “You were at White’s last night. Bradley informed me so himself.”

  “You’re on first name terms with Captain Poole?”

  “Did you, or did you not, leave your home and attend your club last night?”

  “I did, but thankfully there are no ladies permitted at White’s, which meant any innocent ladies remained safe.” His gaze narrowed. “Who did you dance with a fortnight ago?”

  “Not you.” She inched forward a step, until her slippered toes touched his booted Hessians. “You also need to worry less about me and more about yourself.”

  “What I worry about is this dratted war.”

  “You’ve clearly uncovered something of interest at White’s. What was it?” She was eager to hear more about this awful war and whenever possible, did so.

  “I spoke to Poole and Bishophale while at White’s. There’s great worry over Napoleon’s next move. Word is he’s about to wed Marie Louise of Austria, the Emperor of Austria’s daughter.”

  “Oh dear.” Her heart sank. Not good news at all. She rested her hands on Ashten’s shirtfront. “If Napoleon is given the chance to cement his relatively young French Empire, then he will attempt to take England next. He’ll think nothing of it.”

  “I agree, which means the war could be about to escalate, and far beyond what it already has.”

  “This is dreadful news.” Agitated, she stepped back and followed the gravel path past a pink flowering bush toward the gazebo in the corner. The gazebo stood supremely elegant, painted a splendid white with ivy climbing one side and a white rose bush the other. She grasped her skirts and walked up the two steps then eased down onto the bench rimming the side. She rearranged her skirts and tugged the sides of Ashten’s jacket more firmly at the front. “What of Wellington?”

  “Wellington continues to hold onto the hope that Emperor Alexander the First won’t stand aside and allow Russia to remain in chaos. The moment Alexander chooses to change his country’s foreign policy and join with us again, the Duke of Wellington will be there to stand beside him and ensure Napoleon is halted in his endeavors to take over all of Europe.” Ashten sat on the bench next to her, tucked his cane under the bench and wrapped one arm around her shoulders. “Are you still cold?”

  “Less so now.” Goodness, she feared for Harry. “This all means more warring and an inevitable loss of life. Harry will fight to the death to ensure our protection, that those of us here in England remain safe and well.”

  “All our men will fight, and they won’t stop until Napoleon surrenders and this war is done.” He dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “You’re shaking.”

  “Because I need to tell you something of a personal nature, and I need for you to listen to me.”

  “I’d rather you didn’t have any need to speak to me at all.” He removed his arm from her shoulders and frowned at his hands. “I do apologize. I didn’t mean to overstep any boundaries between us, only the more I’m around you, the more I forget myself.”

  “You can forget yourself around me as often as you please.”

  “That sounded rather brazen, Ellie.”

  “Maybe it’s time for a little brazen between us.”

  “I have no need for a wife.” He shook his head. “We had this conversation during your last visit.”

  “Yes, and I’m well aware you’ve no desire for that wife to be me.” She tried to give him her most condescending look, only she likely failed since he arched his brow in that way he did when he saw right through her.

  “I’ve taken mistresses in the past,” he blurted, “and they satisfy any demands I have quite nicely.”

  “Ashten!” Heat flared in her cheeks, and although she should remain quiet, she also couldn’t help but appreciate Ashten’s current honesty with her. “What I mean is, ah, are all men who don’t wish to take a wife inclined to feel that way? That they could simply take a mistress to satisfy their body’s demands?”

  “No, not all men feel that way.” His gaze narrowed, the piercing blue darkening to a midnight shade.

  “I’ve kissed only two men,” she blurted this time.

  “Who? Wait.” He held up a hand. “No, don’t tell me.”

  “I would have only kissed one man, other than for the fact that I needed to know if the first man was any good at kissing, so I kissed the second man to be sure.”

  “And your decision on those kisses?”

  “I truly didn’t care for either of them. I thought kissing would be more enchanting, or at least leaving me with the desire for more than a single kiss, to wish for a second or a third with the same gentleman.”

  “They obviously kissed you respectfully.”

  “There are two ways to kiss someone?”

  “Yes, there certainly is.”

  “How intriguing, although I can hardly ask a man to kiss me, ah, without respect, so I might learn the difference.”

  “How does Winterly deal with you?” He shook his head and blew out a long breath.

  “With great entertainment.” She couldn’t help her giggle.

  “Let me show you what a disrespectful kiss is then.” He held out his hand then arched a brow. “Put your hand in mine, and I’ll take that as a yes of your acceptance.”

  “You’ll truly kiss me? Disrespectfully?” She’d always wished for such a moment as this, and since this might be the only opportunity she ever had, she placed her gloved hand in his and showed her ready acceptance with her actions.

  “You are far too trusting.”

  “You would never hurt me.”

  “Let’s hope not.” Gently, he turned her hand over and finger by finger, tugged on the soft silk until he’d removed her glove then done, dropped it onto the bench beside him and brought her palm to his mouth. With one warm and incredibly soft kiss against her skin, the midnight blue of his eyes twinkling bright, he asked, “Are you ready?”

  “Is there anything I need to do during this disrespectful kiss?”

  “No, not a thing.” As the opening notes of a waltz floated toward them, he rose and drew her to her feet, then slowly,
carefully, he pulled her into his arms.

  “I can’t believe we’re about to dance.”

  “And kiss.”

  “Yes, that too.” She placed her gloved hand on his shoulder, her ungloved hand still held firm in his. Never had she ever danced this close to a gentleman before. Six inches was the required etiquette, and there was less than three inches between them right now. “You look dashing, as if you’ve dressed for this ball tonight, then chose to remain indoors.”

  “Since we’re being honest, I was extremely tempted to come.” He swept her around the inner circle of his gazebo, his hand firm on her waist and his limp barely noticeable. “Did you have to dance”—he cleared his gruff throat—“with quite so many men tonight?”

  “Yes, but I much prefer dancing here with you right now.” Her legs wobbled. Was Ashten truly going to kiss her? Perhaps he was simply testing her, to see if she really did have a suitor she intended on eloping with. If he was, then she’d have to take great care.

  “There’s an allure to a disrespectful kiss. Do you want to know what it is?” He leaned in closer, his breath whispering across her lips.

  “Tell me.” She sucked in a breath, her heartbeat thundering in her ears.

  “It’s called the danger that awaits with the conclusion of that kiss. Does one simply stop, or does one continue with a second disrespectful kiss?”

  Chapter 7

  Ashen barely held his restraint in check. From the second he’d stepped inside the gazebo with Ellie, he’d known he’d be holding her in his arms before he could allow her to leave. She’d captivated him tonight, as well as sent every sound and reasonable thought disappearing right from his head. “Are you ready?” he asked her, far beyond ready himself.

  “I am.” She swiped her tongue across her lips and dampened them in the way a woman did right before she wished to be kissed, and her golden eyes, they shimmered all bright and beautiful, her hand trembling in his. “Please, Ashten, kiss me.”

  Never had he felt so alive as he did in this moment. Over the years, he’d taken the odd mistress or casual lover wherever possible, women who’d always held golden tresses and pouty lips, only not one of his lovers had ever been her—Lady Ellie Marie Trentbury. Never would they be either.

  He lowered his head and unable to hold back a second longer, covered her mouth with his and kissed her, just as he’d always wished to kiss her. He licked across the seam of her lips and when she gasped, he slipped his tongue between those delectable lips and stroked across her tongue. “Come closer,” he murmured against her lips.

  “We’re already quite close.” Although she arched her back and pressed her breasts firmer into his chest, her breath mingling so seductively with his.

  “That’s perfect.” Gently, he sucked on her indecently full lower lip then indulged in his desires and kissed her deeper.

  “Oh my.” She dug her fingers into his shoulders and his passion rose powerfully, just as hers did too. “I can’t believe we’re kissing.”

  “Neither can I.” He pushed her up against the gazebo wall and hands sliding under the jacket he’d given her, he caressed down her sides and roamed over her lush bottom.

  “Ashten?” Her breathing escalated. “I feel so much.”

  “Pierce.”

  Her wide eyes searched his. “That’s your first name?”

  “Yes, Pierce Luke Blackgale.” Harry was the only other who knew it, particularly since he’d come into his title early in life and had always been known as Ashten.

  She smiled and firmed her grip on his shoulders. “Would you please kiss me again, Pierce?”

  “For as long as you desire.”

  “That could be for a while. I’m quite enjoying this disrespectful kiss.”

  “So am I.” He took her mouth again and kissed her deeply, and in return she threw herself into their kiss with the same fierce ardor that took him. Her tongue danced with his in an erotic duel, her ability to kiss so intimately coming naturally to her. This was heaven, glorious heaven. He squeezed her shapely bottom, which seemed to be covered in nothing underneath the sheer layer of chiffon other than her bare skin. He certainly sensed no drawers beneath the fine fabric and his cock rose to attention and pushed determinedly against his trousers.

  “Mmm,” she murmured and rolled her hips against his hips. “This kind of kissing could get quite addictive.”

  He growled rough and low. “Disrespectful kisses can also get quickly out of hand.”

  “So I see, and I’m currently in approval of them. Tell me this is real.”

  “This is real.” He released her bottom and cupped her breasts below the neckline of her gown. He lifted her bosom higher, until the upper swells showed then he dipped his head and buried his face in the creamy mounds. “This is exactly why Winterly should be keeping a closer eye on you. I could be any man about to take advantage of you.”

  “But you’re not just any man.” She swept her hand under his chin and lifted his gaze back to hers, then ever so gently, she caressed his lips with one finger. “I never knew this kind of kissing existed.”

  “There can be so much more than this.” He buried his face in her neck next, then kissed her soft skin as her enticing rose fragrance wafted around him. “Close your eyes, Ellie.”

  “What for?”

  “Just close them.”

  “All right.” She did exactly as he asked and he kneaded her breasts gently over the burgundy fabric of her gown before swiping his thumbs over her beaded nipples poking through. She let out a soft sigh, one which hardened his cock even further. “Pierce, no one has ever made me feel like this before.”

  “What you’re feeling is the rapture that can come at having a man’s hands on you.” He captured her mouth again, plundered and explored to his heart’s desire, until she moaned into his mouth and hell, he burned for her, wished desperately that he could peel her gown away and strip his own clothes off.

  “I’m wondering if that rapture is only possible at your hand.” She fingered the cravat at his neck while she nibbled on his lower lip, then she worked his neckcloth loose, the ends dangling down his chest as she stroked the skin she’d exposed. “You have a lovely neck, Your Grace.”

  “Take the skin of my neck into your mouth and suck on it.”

  “Pardon?”

  “Do it.”

  “As you wish.” She moved to do his bidding, pressed her lips to his sensitive skin and sucked on it. He moaned and pressed her harder into the gazebo wall and after a blissful minute, she finally released his skin with a little giggle and a gasp. “Oh my, I’ve left quite a large red mark behind. Exactly how will you explain that to your valet?”

  “No one will see it but me.” He stroked a finger down her neck and along the upper swells of her breasts. “Do you mind if I mark you here?”

  “You wish to suck on my, ah, bosom, just as I just sucked on your neck?” She clapped a hand over her mouth. “That sounded rather indecent.”

  “It is. Have I shocked you with my request?”

  “You have, yet I like that you did.”

  “Then allow me to shock you some more.” He caught her hand, lowered it to his crotch and wrapped it around the rather sizable bulge she’d currently stirred to life in his trousers. “This is what you’ve done to me, made me harden and hunger for far more than just your kisses alone.”

  “What’s this called?”

  “A penis, or a cock.”

  “It’s firm, and rather large. This is clearly quite a state you’re in.”

  He couldn’t help but smile. “Ellie, when two people kiss as disrespectfully as we’ve just done, then a man’s cock can lengthen and broaden. When that happens, you’re in trouble.”

  “Why am I in trouble?”

  He moved her hand up and down over his length and hell, her innocent touch felt so agonizingly good. “It means the man you’ve kissed is mere minutes away from pushing his cock between your legs.”

  “Oh.” Her eyes went sauce
r-wide. “Oh, I see.”

  He gritted his teeth to keep from coming right there and then in his pants. Devil take it. He was certainly tempted to take her hand and push it inside his waistband, only instead he managed to find some self-control, released her and stepped back as far as the opposite wall of the gazebo allowed. Trying to catch his breath, he gulped air. “It would pay for you to never ask me for a disrespectful kiss again, not unless I have the right to give it to you, which I never will. You are an innocent lady, and one I’ve now unfortunately taken advantage of. Call me a rake if you will. I’ve certainly just acted like one.”

  “Then what would you call me for kissing you so ferociously in return?”

  “You are still an innocent lady.” He kept his voice firm as he motioned to the Atkinson’s rear gardens. “You should return to your brother, immediately, and without any further diversion.”

  “Yes, yes I should.” She dipped her gaze to the ground but remained right where she was. After several seconds had passed, she lifted her gaze back to his. “I would dearly love it if you paid a call on me.”

  “That isn’t happening.” Best he lay it out straight. “You’ll never be my wife.”

  “So nothing has changed between us after what we’ve just done?”

  “No. I still prefer my self-exile.”

  She went quiet again, her gaze this time moving to the fishpond rippling with moonlight only a few feet away. A good minute passed, then two, before she slowly faced him again. “You are a contradiction. You kiss me, tell me your first name, then demand I stay away and all in the name of your self-exile.”

  “You are about to elope with another man in case you’ve forgotten, unless you spoke a mistruth to me. Is that what’s happened?”

  “Truthfully”—she breathed deep, her eyes a soulful golden hue—“Sophia and Olivia will one day wish to wed, and Sophia truly is smitten with James Hargrove. Winterly has also told me that I have too much love to give and would never be content as a spinster. He and Mama would also prefer I accept the next proposal I receive, which means unfortunately, I’m running out of time. That is the absolute truth.”