by Alexa Aston
Her mother pinched her arm. “Don’t be daft, girl. Our family is of good standing.” Beatrice’s arm stung from the hard pinch. “Get up and go back now.”
“Ow.” Rubbing her upper arm, Beatrice jumped to her feet and rushed away to her brother, who let out a loud burp. “It’s a wonder he’s not married,” Beatrice mumbled to Elizabeth who’d also been dispatched by her mother.
Elizabeth let out a dreamy sigh. “He is most handsome.”
“He is a nasty boor.” Beatrice softened when Oscar smiled at her. “However, he is loveable.” She tugged her suddenly reluctant friend to where Oscar sat.
“Brother, I must speak to you. It is important.”
Oscar looked to her, moved his eyes to Elizabeth and then allowed his gaze to linger on his tankard. “Now?”
“Yes, now.” Beatrice gripped Elizabeth’s arm as her friend attempted to move away. The poor girl trembled at being so close to her oblivious brother.
“Very well.” He stood, hesitated and then lifted his cup. “What is it?”
“Come.” Beatrice used her free hand to tug at his tunic.
They made their way to the back of the room near a small alcove. “Our parents expect me to make a fool of myself and fawn over the duke and his brother. Would you please ensure the two don’t come near me again?”
“Why would I do that?” Oscar looked across the room to where the brothers remained. People now surrounded them. Parents shoved their flushed-faced daughters before the seemingly overwhelmed duo.
Oscar chucked. “I don’t believe you have to worry about them. Every lass will be paraded before them for the rest of the evening.” He pointed to where musicians set up to play for the upcoming dance. “Look.”
“Entertain Elizabeth for a moment. I’ll return shortly.”
Oscar looked to her friend as if noticing her for the first time. Beatrice dashed away, ignoring Elizabeth’s loud gasp.
At the guards’ table, the men pretended not to notice as she neared. Afraid of her beast of a brother and her contrary disposition, most kept a distance whenever she was about. Beatrice searched the faces until finding Finlay, a slender young archer she’d been a friend with since childhood.
Her friend, who’d, traveled with her family when coming to Cumbria as a squire to her father, lifted a brow in question but stood at her pointed look. Despite the fact he was in love with a village girl, he puffed out his chest and walked to Beatrice. “Beatrice, whatever could possibly bother you on this fair day?”
Sarcasm dripped from every word and Beatrice scowled. “Am I that unpleasant that my being annoyed doesn’t worry you in the least?”
Finlay remained quiet, so Beatrice hit his arm. “Will you dance with me?”
“The music has not yet started.” He searched the room. “Whose attention are you attempting to get?”
Beatrice huffed. “Not attention, but the opposite. My parents are attempting to marry me off and I do not wish to be. Not yet. I want to choose my future husband.”
Finlay’s eyes grew round.
“Are you listening to me? I refuse to make a fool out of myself by fawning over that fancy duke and his brother. It’s obvious they are untamed rakes.”
Letting out a long breath, Finlay looked up to the ceiling.
“Am I to presume I wasted my time coming to ensure you repay your promise of a dance?” The smoothness in Gavin’s deep voice, so different from any she’d heard fell over her. Unfortunately, due to what she’d just spoken, the effect was more like cold water than anything else.
The search for an appropriate response came up empty. Instead, Beatrice turned and smiled at him. “It is not nice to eavesdrop on conversations Your Grace. Sometimes, one hears things not meant for one’s ears.”
“Obviously.” His dark gaze was flat, but the corners of his pressed-together lips curved. “However, Miss Preston, rakes don’t always behave properly.”
Hoping to get support, she turned, only to find Finlay had returned to his seat and kept his head down. Not exactly a true friend, then, to abandon one during times of trouble.
“Are you enjoying your coming out party?” She lifted her nose and scanned the room hoping annoyed parents would rush over and shove her out of the way in order to garner the duke’s attention. It wasn’t that she found him unappealing, quite the opposite. If Beatrice was to be honest, he was exactly the type of man she’d always dreamed of marrying.
Handsome, sensual, tall, broad-shouldered, with silky tresses that fell to his shoulders and a roguish smile that made her stomach tumble. It had not been unnoticed by her that his legs and arms were well formed, his backside taut from horseback riding. Yes, the man who stood before her was not just every woman’s dream, but hers as well.
“Should I be afraid?” he drawled. “You are looking at me like a woman starved.”
Her eyes rounded before she could make herself look away. “I am quite hungry. I was just thinking of the boar meat from the hunt. It was quite succulent.”
The music started and the duke took her arm. “Your mother tells me you love walks about the garden. How about some fresh air before we dance?”
It was hard not to grin at noticing her mother’s wide smile directed at her and every single glare from the other women present as Gavin walked her toward an open doorway. When they passed a table of young women who stared at her companion, Beatrice stopped and looked up at him. “If you’re in need of fresh air, any of the women behind me would gladly accompany you.”
None too gently, he guided her by the elbow until outside. They descended the stairs in silence to the lord’s beautiful gardens. Despite the sudden thumping of her heart at being alone with the duke, Beatrice had to admire the beauty surrounding her. Fragrant blooms swayed in the gentle breeze as their perfumes intermingled in the air. Lady Mereworth obviously knew which flowers to plant where, as every plant flourished.
Next to short hedges, benches were scattered here and there seemingly without thought or pattern. However upon closer inspection it was obvious that each would garner a quiet private spot to talk. Exactly the place Beatrice would avoid this night at all costs. She continued past a bench, pretending the flowers took all her attention.
In truth, the man next to her took every single ounce of concentration to ignore. He let out a long breath and stopped walking. “It’s a lovely night, is it not?”
Gavin, the rake, looked down. He didn’t meet her gaze but instead, studied her cleavage. Damn the cut of the dress her mother insisted she wear.
On her mother, the neckline was acceptable. Since Beatrice’s breasts were quite larger, they practically over spilled. “It’s my mother’s dress. She insisted I wear it. I see the bait works. However, as you may suspect, I am not interested in any romantic notions.”
“It’s a shame.” He smiled and her legs wavered. Perhaps the bench would have been a better idea than standing, especially when he moved closer. “You’re a beauty. I am shocked that you are not surrounded by admirers.”
Beatrice turned to gaze past his shoulder. “Yes, well, you do not have a problem with that.”
“Beatrice?” Something about the way he pronounced her name made her breathing hitch. How did he do it? To gain such a reaction from just speaking one word was new to her.
“Yes?”
About to insist they return inside as the music now wafted in the air, she turned her attention back to him. Gavin’s mouth covered hers. The kiss was soft yet not gentle. Demanding, but at the same time allowing her to respond as he kept his body apart from hers.
Her eyelids fluttered shut and she didn’t quite allow the kiss. Instead, it lingered because of her inability to move away. Sensations of warmth and excitement weaved around her from head to toe until everything else disappeared. In the moment his lips moved over her mouth, all that existed was Gavin.
It would be their only kiss, Beatrice decided, and enjoy it she would. Afraid he’d move away, she took his shoulders and parted her lips.
Not because she was experienced, but because it seemed the natural thing to do. To taste more of him, to take him deeper.
Gavin’s tongue pushed past her teeth to tangle with hers. He then deepened the kiss by pulling her against him. Leaning her face to the side, his mouth continued to ravage her until the kiss made every inch of her hum with pleasure.
The sense of falling brought her arms around his neck and Beatrice clung to Gavin, not quite sure how to stop. It had to end. It was enough.
His lips traveled down her jawline and Gavin’s teeth sunk into her neck. It wasn’t hard enough to be painful. No, it was not what she would describe as physical pain, but there was an ache.
The sensation shocked her back to reality.
“Ah!” Beatrice pushed away. Her breathing hitched as she struggled to get a full breath.
It helped, somewhat, to see he did the same, his chest expanding and lowering as he held her by the arms. Not so much to control, but because she swayed.
“Are you able to stand without assistance?”
Beatrice pushed his hands away. “Of course.”
When her knees threatened to give way, he guided her to the bench.
“I have to say, I must sit for a bit, too.”
With his arms across his lap, as if to cover up, Gavin leaned forward and let out several breaths. “I cannot go inside for a few moments. Neither of us can. I would embarrass us.”
“Why would I be embarrassed? What is wrong with you? Are you in pain?” The heat between her legs was becoming manageable. Mostly due to his continuous huffs and strange demeanor.
Finally, Gavin seemed to feel better as he straightened and studied her for a moment. “Do you not know about a man’s aroused state? It can be quite obvious.”
Beatrice looked to anywhere but between his legs. “Oh. I suppose so.” Feeling foolish, she stood. “I best go inside. I suppose our…kiss makes up for the dance then.”
“No it does not.” His gaze traveled up her body and Beatrice almost fidgeted, but kept still. “As a matter of fact, we should dance all night.”
“I am not interested in you, sir.” Beatrice placed her fisted hands on her hips. “As a matter of fact, I don’t understand why you insist on it. Your future potential for a wife could be inside while you dally about out here with me.”
Gavin stood, his broad body blocking her view of the entrance. “You do not fool me. You can barely keep your eyes from me and you are not hard to see through.”
The lack of breathing properly had obviously weakened the man’s ability to make any sense. She turned her eyes up to the starlit sky then to the bushes, anything to keep from looking directly at him. It was not easy.
He continued to stare at her as if waiting for a reply, so she obliged. “Whatever are you talking about?”
“You are fearless, yet vulnerable. Although there is an air of lack of caring, I saw the way you helped your friend to spend time with your brother. Your friend, the archer, is proud of you. Your parents know your worth. The women in the room are not just envious of your beauty, but of your confidence and independence.”
For the first time since she could remember, Beatrice could not think of what to say. The statement was so rich, so different than anything that anyone had ever said about and to her.
Seeming to understand she was without words, the duke led her back to the great room. Moments later, she found herself dancing with the most handsome man in the room.
Chapter Five
Gavin wasn’t at all surprised to find Beatrice had disappeared halfway through the night. The woman was as puzzling as she was enticing. He suffered yet another dance with a woman who kept stepping on his feet since she concentrated too much on his face. “I apologize. I do not know what has gotten into me. I am usually a good dancer.”
Thankfully, the song ended and he could escort the now pouting woman back to where she’d been sitting. “I am so winded. Fresh air would be nice.” She batted her eyelashes at him.
“Ah, my uncle calls,” Gavin exclaimed and dashed away.
Alasdair peered down his nose at the people gathered then over to the dancers. “I expected more entertainment than just your escapade with the feisty girl, Beatrice.”
Gavin pressed his lips to keep from laughing. “What about the red-haired guardsman? I caught him slipping out a side door with someone unexpected in tow.”
Straightening, Alasdair searched the room. “Pray tell, who did he leave with?”
Settling into the chair next to his uncle, Gavin motioned a nearby serving woman for ale. “I find it more amusing to allow you the opportunity to figure it out for yourself, Uncle.”
Although Alasdair scowled, his eager gaze continued searching the room until widening. “Mullen’s wife?” The corners of his lips lifted as he leaned forward, chin resting on his right hand. “If Mullen catches wind of this, the man will not be subtle.”
It mattered not to Gavin what happened, but what he hoped was to allow Alasdair to become distracted enough to not guard his words. “Uncle, do you honestly feel I should marry soon?”
Mullen stood and trekked across the room toward the garden doors. Alasdair waved a dismissive hand to Gavin. “You should marry. Our family must keep the title.”
“If I were to meet with misfortune, there is always Sinclair and if we are both overcome and killed, you or Uncle John would take it.”
Alasdair tracked Mullen as the older man now headed to the guards’ table. “John will not have a male heir. He and Alice no longer share a bed. I won’t marry. Even if I were to…” He stopped speaking as Mullen’s wife meandered from the back of the room. The red-haired guard was not with her.
Mullen hurried to her and seemed to be questioning his wife.
“I wonder if the guard is wise enough to stay absent?” Alasdair exclaimed with exaggerated glee.
Gavin rolled his eyes. “I have plenty of time then. No hurry.”
When the couple went to sit, not seeming either angry or happy for that matter, Alasdair finally turned his attention back to Gavin.
“The Duke of Aldorf has petitioned to the crown for your title to be given to his own brother. The brother, you know, has tried to kill him several times. He grows tired of sleeping with an open eye, I suppose. With enough coin, his brother can buy even the duke’s closest guards to slit his throat.”
The entire business of titles and such was of little importance to Gavin. Not worth it in his opinion. However, the title was a matter of much pride within the family since it had been awarded to Gavin’s grandfather for bravery.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“There is no specific reason, dear boy. We believe the threat is not strong. Not yet. However, once you sire a male heir, the duke will lose ground. Until you sire a boy child, one of his strongest weapons is the lack of a new direct heir after you.”
Rage surged and Gavin clenched the tankard. “Father has only been dead a few weeks.”
A sigh escaped Alasdair and his brows lowered. “I miss my brother dearly. If anything, I expected him to live the longest. I understand you mourn Gavin. However, your duties as Lord and titled Duke of Selkirk come first. You must produce an heir with haste.”
In essence, whether he loved the woman he married or not mattered little. What was important was to marry and to produce a male child. The woman would have to be prepared to have a second child in short order if the first was not a male child. Gavin scanned the room. Not seeing anything, his mind clouded. “When did you plan to tell me all this?”
“The true reason for this gathering. The reason every family brings lasses from near and far is because word has been spread. You will be choosing a wife soon.”
Now he understood the reference by Beatrice to it being his “coming out party.”
“Uncle. You should have told me upon my arrival. Why all the secrecy?”
Finally, Alasdair looked to his brother. “He will be cross upon learning I’ve told you all this. We know you.
You are so much like him. Like your father. You will not be forced into anything. Your father requested we help you marry as soon as he passed. He also told us you would resist it.”
Alasdair lifted a shoulder. “I can’t keep secrets.”
“My father planned this?”
“No. The gathering was my idea. Oh look.” The red-haired guard entered and looked around the room until finding Mullen’s wife. The woman fidgeted, refusing to make eye contact. Mullen jumped to his feet and rushed to where the guard stood.
“Now, it’s about to get interesting,” Alasdair exclaimed.
Gavin searched out Beatrice’s brother. The large male remained at the guards’ table. He stood and made his way to intercede between the guard and Mullen.
The night was about to become interesting, indeed.
“No. I don’t believe you.” Beatrice collapsed into the cushions of the chair she sat upon. “He asked for us to be married?”
Her mother practically floated across the floor. “Aye, he did. Most formally. He had Oscar present his request to your father.”
Of course, her mother failed to see that neither she nor Beatrice were included in the decision. “I don’t want to marry him. I’ll have to live far away.”
“It’s not that far,” her father grumbled and frowned at her. “The Lord has requested we return tomorrow for the exchange of vows.”
“Tomorrow!” Beatrice jumped to her feet. “No. I refuse.” She looked to Oscar for help, her spirits boosted when he came to stand beside her.
“Why can’t we ask for a fortnight?” her brother interceded. “Beatrice needs time to grow used to the idea. I can take her to his castle when the time is right.”
“She will marry and be bedded tomorrow and that is final. The Lord already questions our fealty. This will prove our loyalty to him and ensure your mother and I have a place to grow old without fear of being sent away on a whim.” Her father refused to listen to anything more. Instead, he pointed at them both. “Oscar, you can travel with your sister to Hardigg Castle. Vow loyalty and join His Grace’s guard if you wish. But the marriage will happen.”
