‘Yes, I’ve been thinking about that,’ he said, ‘and talking to Lady Mixby, who remembers all the old scandals. Your father wouldn’t happen to be the same Edmund Carstairs who ran off with a girl he met at an assembly in some out-of-the way place in the north where he was stationed while he was in the militia, would he?’
‘Well, yes...’ she admitted.
‘Then you are from a good family.’
‘Not directly. I mean, yes, my father was well-born, but once he married my mother he was entirely cut off from them all. And they never acknowledged me. Not even once both my parents had died. It was the Biddlestones who took me in when I became an orphan.’
Even though they’d done so grudgingly. And ended up betraying her.
‘That will not be an obstacle to your social success. Everyone knows what a clutch-fisted man your grandpapa Carstairs is. People will be only too ready to believe he didn’t want the expense of bringing you out, if we start rumours to that effect.’
‘Why would we do any such thing?’
‘To smooth your path, of course. Not that it will need all that much smoothing. For heaven’s sake, your Carstairs grandfather is an earl, didn’t you know that? The Earl of Sterndale. Which makes you perfectly eligible. The granddaughter of an earl may go anywhere, and marry as high as she pleases.’
‘I don’t think of myself that way. Not after the way he repudiated me when Papa sent me to him—’
‘Yes, but since then your father has died a hero, hasn’t he? And even I remember rumours about how your grandfather shut himself away for a week and was as surly as a bear when he came out. I shouldn’t be a bit surprised to learn that he will acknowledge you now joyfully. Particularly if you are presented to him as my duchess,’ he finished with a cynical twist to his lips. ‘So that acknowledging you won’t cost him a penny.’
She sucked in a deep, painful breath. Then forced herself to say what had to be said.
‘In other words you are going to have to spend the rest of your life making excuses. Explaining me away. I had enough of that with Aunt Charity. And I couldn’t bear it if you...’ She turned her hands over in his and gripped his. ‘I don’t want you always to be ashamed of me.’
‘Ashamed of you?’ His eyes widened in surprise. ‘Why should you think I could ever be ashamed of you?’
‘Because you already are.’
‘No, I’m not.’
‘You are. From the very first moment we got here, and your butler practically had an apoplexy at the sight of me, you have been obliged to make all sorts of excuses to explain me away.’
‘Perkins is far too good at his job to have anything like an apoplexy,’ countered Gregory. ‘And anyway, I don’t care what servants think.’
‘But I do. I don’t want people whispering about me wheedling my way into your life. Or you being made to feel as though you need to hide anything about my past—which you’ve just admitted you would have to.’
Gregory’s brows drew down. ‘For heaven’s sake, woman, the only reason I have come up with ways to smooth your path into society is because you are making an issue of your past. Nobody else cares or they wouldn’t be so keen to see us wed.’
‘They...your family...are keen to see us wed?’
‘Admittedly Hugo is thinking primarily of himself. Once I start producing my own heirs he thinks he will be free to live as he pleases, instead of having to train to be a duke. And even as I stormed from the room, vowing I’d make you change your mind, Lady Mixby was wittering on about how romantic it was and how she was going to look forward to introducing you to society by means of a grand ball.’
She looked at him then. Really looked at him. With a growing surge of hope swelling in her heart. Because all she could see in his eyes was determination.
‘So long as you aren’t ashamed of me...’
‘Never!’
She wished she could believe him. But actions spoke louder than words. ‘Then why did you send me to my room the moment we got here?’
‘Need I remind you that you were trembling? Which you’d never done before. Not even when you were woken by a farmer with a gun. At first I couldn’t think why you were so overset. But then I reasoned that if even I felt self-conscious, because I smelled of the cow byre and looked like a vagrant, then it must be ten times as bad for you. I was at least among my own family—you were facing a set of strangers. Hugo was being abominably rude, and Lady Mixby was being...’ He compressed his lips for a second. ‘Lady Mixby. I thought you’d feel better able to deal with them all in a...er...complete set of clean clothes. And naturally you were upset with me, too, for not being completely honest about my identity. I hoped that if you had a chance to calm down you’d be able to see things weren’t as black as they seemed. Besides, you needed to get your feet treated,’ he finished on a shrug.
Once more she’d misjudged his motives. She’d been so angry, so hurt, when he’d hustled her upstairs, because it had put her in mind of the way she’d been treated by her aunt. She’d assumed he wanted her out of the way, too. Because she had already felt betrayed on discovering he’d been hiding so much from her when she’d thought they’d been so close.
But Gregory had been thinking of her all along. Not only that, but he’d pretty accurately judged how she’d been feeling during that first awkward meeting with his family. Even down to his oblique reference to her lack of decent underwear.
‘Oh, you dear, dear man,’ she said, reaching out her hand to caress his cheek.
He grabbed at it. ‘Shall I take that as a yes?’
Chapter Seventeen
‘Oh, Gregory...’ She sighed. ‘I wish I could say yes—I really do...
He surged to his feet. ‘You cannot possibly still be harbouring any doubts, surely?’
‘I cannot help having a few,’ she protested. ‘I mean, when I suggested marriage I thought I had many practical reasons for doing so. Only when we got here they all turned out to be nonsense.’
‘What do you mean, nonsense?’
‘I have no title, nor even a fortune—not by your standards. I suddenly felt as if I had nothing to bring to our marriage except disgrace. So I couldn’t understand why you seemed content to go along with it unless it was because you didn’t want to go back on your word, once given. And anyway, had I known at the time you were a duke of course I’d never have been so...so...forward as to dare propose in the first place.’
‘Which is one of the reasons I didn’t tell you,’ he said grimly. ‘Don’t you have any idea what it did for me when you whispered that shy proposal in that barn? To know you were willing to trust your fortune to me, thinking I had nothing? Prudence, nobody has ever thought I was of any account.’
‘Of course they have,’ she said, frowning. ‘You’re a duke.’
‘No,’ he groaned. ‘You don’t understand. Me.’ He beat his chest with the flat of his free hand. ‘This. The man. You heard Hugo. He said what everyone else thinks. That I am nothing without the title, and the wealth, and the body of servants whose only function is to maintain my dignity. Even my wife—’ He stopped, his face contorting with remembered pain. ‘You are the only person who has ever seen me. Wanted me. Gregory. Just Gregory.’
‘But you are not just Gregory, though, are you? Can you not understand why I have felt as though I can’t marry you?’ She cupped his lean jaw with one hand. ‘I wouldn’t know how to begin to be a duchess. I’m so ordinary.’
‘Not to me, you aren’t! You are the only woman I have ever spent an entire day with. The only one I have ever held in my arms all night. The only one I could imagine ever wanting to do either with.’
‘Are you sure,’ she asked, searching his earnest face, ‘that it isn’t all because of the extraordinary adventure we’ve had? That once you get back to your real life you will wake up and realise yo
u were carried away on a tide of...of recklessness, or something? I mean, when I proposed to you, you said I’d have changed my mind by the morning, once it was clear of that drug.’
‘My mind is completely clear now,’ he said earnestly. ‘And I swear I will never grow tired of you, Prudence. Because you have seen me. The man I am inside. You looked right past the title—’
‘Which was only because I didn’t know it was there,’ she pointed out.
‘Even now you know I have it you would rather I didn’t, which is completely astonishing. Do you think I could lightly let such a rare treasure slip through my fingers? A woman who sees me and not the title?’
‘But you almost did, though, didn’t you? You practically invited me to break off the betrothal. Just now.’
‘I felt as though you’d ripped my guts out when you did it.’
‘I felt as though I’d ripped out my own, too. Especially as you went all cold and hard and didn’t seem to care. My only consolation was thinking that if you really didn’t care then I’d done the right thing by you.’
‘You little fool,’ he grated, gripping her shoulders. ‘Couldn’t you tell it was pride that made me let you go? Pride that made me vow you wouldn’t reduce me to grovelling, the way Millicent made me grovel? Not in front of my family anyway. It took me about two minutes to work out that if I could get you alone all I would have to do was kiss you and you would do anything I wanted.’ He shook his head, as though in disbelief. ‘But the moment I saw you lying there, weeping, I knew that kissing you into submission wasn’t the answer. That I needed to break down all the barriers you’d thrown up between us, no matter how much I hurt you in the process.’
‘You were a bit ruthless,’ she admitted.
‘Because I was fighting for us,’ he said.
And not grovelling. He would never do anything that smacked of grovelling. But then, nor would she.
‘And I’m about to be more ruthless still,’ he said grimly. ‘Because I cannot help thinking that if I’d made you mine in that barn you wouldn’t have put me through all this tonight. You wouldn’t have dreamed of breaking off the betrothal, no matter how many doubts you might have had about my motives, or my status, or any other damn thing about me. The one time in my life when I have an attack of conscience where a woman is concerned,’ he said, shaking his head as though in disbelief, ‘and it all blows up in my face!’
And then he swooped, hauling her into his arms and kissing her hungrily.
Oh, if only he’d acted like this, spoken like this, before, she would never have dreamed of breaking off the betrothal. She flung her arms about his neck and kissed him back as well as she was able, given her inexperience.
It appeared to be enough for him, for he plunged his tongue into her mouth and took her experience of kissing to a whole new level. It was as if he wanted to devour her. It was so breathtaking she was going dizzy with it. It felt as though she was falling.
And then she realised she was falling—backwards onto the bed.
‘I’m done with being a gentleman, Prudence,’ he snarled.
‘Good...’ She sighed as he rained kisses over her face.
‘I cannot stand the thought of any other man touching you,’ he moaned into her neck. ‘I saw it happen, in my mind’s eye, the minute you broke our betrothal. Men swarming round you like bees round a honeypot. You’re so beautiful,’ he said, rearing up and looking down at her as though he’d never really seen a woman before.
He cupped her cheek. His hand was trembling.
‘I know I said I would get your inheritance back for you, but I’m not sure I could have done it if you weren’t going to be my wife. It would have tempted even more men to court you. And you might have fallen for one of them.’
‘I wouldn’t. I couldn’t. There is nobody for me but you, Gregory.’
His jaw hardened. ‘I intend to make sure of that. Tonight will be like a branding. No other man will ever have you after this. You are mine.’
‘Yes,’ she purred.
But he didn’t seem to hear her acquiescence. For he had seized her wrists and pinned her hands high above her head, stretching her out beneath him like a sacrifice.
Her heart was beating so wildly it felt as though it was going to burst through her ribcage. He was going to take her here, now, with all his family downstairs, wondering what was going on. It felt so decadent. So thrilling.
‘You do want me, don’t you, Prudence? You wouldn’t have proposed in the first place if that wasn’t so. You wouldn’t kiss me back with such enthusiasm if you didn’t want me.’
Was that a hint of uncertainty she saw in his eyes? Had Millicent wounded him so deeply that even now he couldn’t quite believe that a woman could truly want him?
‘Yes, I want you,’ she said. Hoping that all the love she felt for him was blazing from her eyes. ‘You know I do.’
His hold on her wrists slackened. ‘Even though we’re not yet married?’
That question made her love him all the more. For even though he was desperate to brand her he would still stop, right now, if he thought for one second that she had any reluctance at all.
‘Even though you’re a duke,’ she replied.
‘You’re trembling again,’ he said.
‘It’s excitement,’ she panted. ‘I know I ought to feel outraged or terrified by your threats to...to ravish me. But I don’t want to protest, or struggle. The weight of your body, pinning me down like this, is...’
And then her words ran out. She didn’t have enough experience to be able to describe what he was making her feel. But her body told him, arching up to make the contact with his powerful hips even stronger.
There was no longer any uncertainty on his face. It had been replaced by a knowing smile.
‘What you are feeling now,’ he drawled, ‘is nothing to what I’m going to make you feel soon.’ He nuzzled at her ear then, nipped at the lobe, then let go of one of her wrists so he could run his hand down her body, as though tracing her shape. It made her hips, her breasts, hunger to experience a similar caress.
She whimpered and writhed beneath him.
He nipped at her lower lip. Flicked his tongue into her mouth, making her open it to grant him access. Ran his hand back down her side and round to her hips. When she wiggled in response, he slid his hand round to her bottom and kneaded it.
He teased and tormented her with skilful caresses and kisses, rousing her to such a pitch that all she could think of was ripping his clothes off. Or hers. Oh, Lord, she needed... Oh, she needed...
She pulled his face to hers so she could kiss him. And he let go of her other hand so that she could put both arms round his neck and plunge her fingers into his hair.
‘Mine,’ he breathed into her ear, before capturing her chin, turning her head and plundering her mouth yet again.
‘Yes.’ She sighed when he paused for breath. ‘I think I can really believe it now. Only...’
‘Only what?’ He tensed. ‘What now?’
‘Nothing, really. It’s just that if you had made me yours, that night in the barn, I would have felt as though I was bestowing some great gift upon you. Whereas now...’ She glanced round the room. At the velvet hangings, the moulded cornices, the marble mantel, all of which shrieked of his wealth. And made her dreadfully conscious of how little she was worth.
‘The reason I didn’t make you mine that night is because I didn’t want you to have no choice in the matter once you had discovered all there is to know about me. I knew you’d be shocked when you found out I’m a duke. I feared you might think I’d deceived you for some nefarious reason. I wanted you to be able to remember that I’d behaved honourably, in that one way at least, and then you might be able to forgive the rest.’
‘Oh, Gregory.’ What a selfless thing to have done for her.
‘What a pity we cannot return to that night and do it right this time, knowing all there is to know about each other.’
‘That,’ he said, rolling off her and standing up, ‘is an excellent idea. Come on,’ he said, grabbing her hand and hauling her to her feet.
‘What are you doing?’
‘I think you can see perfectly well what I’m doing. I’m taking the quilt off the bed.’
‘Why? What for?’
‘Because we would both rather our first time together had been out in that barn.’
‘Well, yes,’ she admitted.
‘Well, then, don’t just stand there,’ he said as he rolled the quilt and slung it over one shoulder. ‘Get some blankets,’ he said as he grabbed a couple of pillows. ‘As many as you can carry.’
‘What? But we cannot go all the way back to the barn. Not at this hour of the night.’ She considered it. ‘Can we?’
‘No need,’ he said with a wicked grin. ‘I have somewhere much better in mind.’
She was so relieved he wasn’t going to put off making love to her properly—or should that be improperly?—that she asked no more questions. She just set to, stripping down the bed as swiftly as she could.
They stumbled down the main staircase with bundles of bedding in their arms and crossed the hall to a door at the rear as quickly and quietly as they could. Gregory looked totally nonchalant, but Prudence was rather nervous of anyone seeing them and correctly guessing what they were up to. Not half an hour ago she’d broken their betrothal and stormed off upstairs. And then he’d stormed up after her. If he’d...subdued her in private she might have given the excuse that she hadn’t had any choice in the matter. But here she was, carrying her fair share of blankets, proving she was as eager as he to behave with a scandalous lack of propriety.
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