Duchess by Deception

by Marie Force

  “Oh my! Whatever shall we do?”

  “We will provide her with shelter and protection for as long as necessary.”

  “Your Grace,” she whispered. “Should you be involved in such a mess?”

  “Perhaps not, but involved I am. Please see to her transport. I shall speak to Rutledge and the others myself.”

  “Very well.” She bustled off while Derek descended the stairs, his head spinning from everything Catherine had told him.

  * * *

  Hours later, after taking every step he could think of to ensure Catherine’s safety, Derek saddled Hercules and set off along the well-worn path he’d once traveled daily to visit his grandmother. After the loss of his parents, his uncle Anthony had seen to the many needs of the duchy, while Derek’s grandmother, his father’s mother, had showered him—and Simon—with love and care until they left for boarding school.

  She’d been gone more than ten years now, and Derek still missed her. As he rode, he wondered what she had known of her husband’s earlier dalliance with a woman in service to the household—Catherine’s grandmother. Even though it had happened well before their marriage, he was certain, knowing his grandmother, that she’d been well aware of the affair that had no doubt caused quite the scandal at the time.

  Outside the cozy little cottage, Derek tied the horse’s lead to a tree and was felled by nerves that made him laugh softly to himself. When was the last time he’d been nervous because of a woman? Probably the night Kitty made a man out of him—and that had been more than a decade ago.

  In the hours they’d spent together, Catherine had touched him deeply. Her vulnerability struck at his protective nature, but her strength and determination had been just as compelling. He only wished he didn’t have to keep his identity hidden from her. Just long enough to get to know each other and to keep her safe from Lindsey, he told himself as he approached the front door and knocked.

  She answered wearing a pale pink silk dressing gown. Her golden locks fell past her shoulders in waves of curls.

  The sight of her pushed the air from his lungs. She looked so pretty and pure and perfect.

  “Hello, Jack.”

  Chapter Six

  Derek told himself he was supposed to say something, but with all his focus on her loveliness he found it nearly impossible to form a coherent thought. “I just, I, um wanted to make sure you were comfortable.”

  “I am more than comfortable. This house is absolutely adorable!” Without an ounce of guile, she ushered him inside where a fire in the hearth cast an amber glow over the small sitting room. The sight brought back his grandmother in a rush of happy memories—the happiest memories of his young life. “It reminds me of our home in Hampshire,” Catherine said. “Cozy and quaint.”

  Derek gripped his hat in both hands, feeling like a hulking lout in the small room. “And you have everything you need?” He took a quick look around, noting the homey touches Mrs. Langingham had probably seen to personally.

  “Indeed. Would you like to sit?”

  He eyed the high-backed chair adjacent to the settee. “Um, yes, thank you.”

  “Are you all right?”

  “Of course,” he said, startled. “Why do you ask?”

  “You seem different. Tense.”

  Tense. He wanted to laugh. His skin suddenly felt too tight for his body as every inch of him was painfully aware of her fresh scent, the way the silk clung to curves he hadn’t fully appreciated earlier, and how at home she seemed in his grandmother’s home.

  He’d no sooner sat than he surged to his feet. “I should probably go.”

  “So soon?” Disappointment radiated from her.

  “It is not proper for us to be here alone.”

  “And yet it was proper for you to spend most of last evening in my bed?”

  “That was different,” Derek stammered. Had he ever been so undone by a woman? No. Never. “You were ill.”

  “You said yourself no one would know we were alone together when we were in the manor. Who will know now?”

  Derek stared at her, riveted by the movement of her plump lips. “My, ah, Hercules is out front, announcing that I am here.”

  She looked up at him with those dark navy eyes. “Announcing to whom?”

  “Anyone who happens by.”

  Those amazing lips curved into a small smile. “Doesn’t anyone who happens by happen to work for you?”

  Beginning to be amused—and embarrassed—by her questions, Derek rubbed at the stubble on his chin. “Yes, I suppose they do.”

  “And you have requested their discretion?”

  “I have.”

  “So why then must you leave so soon?”

  Cornered, he rolled the brim of his hat between his hands. He looked around, taking in the fresh flowers and wood piled on the hearth. “Are you hungry? Can I fix you something to eat?”

  Her expression conveyed suspicion while her mouth quirked with amusement. “You know how to cook?”

  He released a jagged breath. “Are you intentionally trying to provoke me?”

  Laughter burst from her in rolling waves that captivated him. “Not intentionally.”

  He tossed his hat on the chair. “I never said anything about cooking. I can, however, put cheese and bread on a tray.”

  “That I’d like to see.”

  “Fine.” With exasperation warring with amusement and desire, he stalked into the small kitchen to search the icebox for provisions, counting on Mrs. Langingham to be predictable. Sure enough, he found a hunk of fresh cheese. He also found a loaf of crusty bread, still warm from the oven, added a bunch of grapes and poured glasses of red wine. When the spread was ready, he carried it into the sitting room.

  After placing the tray on the table in front of the settee, he bent with a flourish and produced a cloth napkin. “Your repast, my lady.”

  She eyed the offering, again with the hint of humor he’d come to expect from her. “I am most definitely impressed.”

  “Not all men are useless clods.”

  “They’re not?” she asked, smiling.

  “I fear you mock me.”

  “Never.” Attempting a solemn expression—and failing—she helped herself to a grape.

  Watching that grape disappear between those sensuous lips was one of the most provocative things he’d ever witnessed.

  Patting the other side of the settee, she invited him to join her.

  Derek eyed the seat and glanced at her. Swallowing hard, he lowered himself gingerly.

  Catherine hummed softly to herself as she sliced the bread and cheese, offering some to him.

  “Thank you.” They ate in silence, the crackling of the fire the only sound in the room. “May I ask you something?”

  Startled, he looked over at her. “Of course.”

  “Before, at the manor, when we were together, I was in a strange place with people I do not know, yet I was comfortable with you.”

  Even though his mouth was suddenly dry, Derek managed to swallow the bite of bread. Not trusting himself to speak, he took a long sip from his wine. “And now?”

  “Now I fear you are regretting your offer to help me but don’t know how to tell me so.”

  Derek sat up straighter. “I assure you that is not the case.”

  “Why then are you so dreadfully uncomfortable?”

  He sucked in a sharp, deep breath, amazed by how attuned she was to his moods. “I want to help you. Honestly, I do.”

  A flash of hurt crossed her expressive face. “You have changed your mind.”

  “That is not true.”

  “Then whatever is the matter?”

  Summoning courage and self-control, Derek blotted the wine from his lips and turned to face her. “When I kissed you, I told you I would think of nothing else until I could do it again. It turns out I was quite right about that.”

  Her face flushed with color that only fueled his desire. “And this makes you uncomfortable?”

  “Ve
ry.”

  “Why?”

  “Because a gentleman must be concerned about the reputation of the woman he cares about.”

  “You care about me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Even though we have only just met?” she asked, incredulous.

  “We already know each other better than I have known almost anyone.” Derek told himself that much was true despite the lies he had told her.

  Seeming pleased by that, she reached for his hand and held it between both of hers. “I am five and twenty, Jack. You gave me my first kiss yesterday. I feel like my life is passing me by, and nothing exciting has ever happened. Until now.”

  Derek forced himself to breathe. “And you find me exciting?”

  Her fingers skimmed over his knuckles. “I do.”

  He leaned in closer to her. “Would it be improper if I kissed you again?”

  “Probably.”

  “Oh,” he said, backing off as disappointment flooded him.

  She laughed and tugged on his hand to bring him back to her.

  Dangling at the edge of sanity, Derek uttered a growl and tilted her face to receive his kiss. This time, she met him with open lips and an eager tongue. He tried to remember this was only the second time she’d ever kissed a man, but her avid response made him forget his good intentions. Her flavor, sweetness tinged with the bite of wine, invaded his senses, making him hungry for more.

  “This is highly improper,” he whispered against her lips.

  “Highly.”

  “So we should stop.” Her fingers sifted through his hair, sending a shiver of delight dancing through him.

  “Probably.” But rather than stop, he angled his head to delve deeper. “You are certain you have never done this before?”

  “Mmm.”

  “You’re a fast learner.”

  Catherine’s throaty chuckle sent a burst of lust straight to his already hard cock.

  “Do you still feel uncomfortable?” she asked.

  He caressed her face with both hands, gazing into her eyes. “Yes, but for different reasons.”

  Embarrassment once again colored her cheeks. “That seems to be a frequent concern for you.”

  “Only since I met you.”

  She gasped. “You say the most outrageous things!”

  “I speak only the truth,” he said with a pang of guilt over what he was keeping from her. But every time he was with her he became more convinced the deception was necessary for now.

  “Will you come back again tomorrow?”

  He kissed both her hands. “Do you want me to come back tomorrow?”

  “Yes, Jack,” she said, laughter dancing across her face. “I want you to come back tomorrow.”

  “Then I shall.”

  “Will you kiss me again?”

  “Only if you want me to.”

  “Do I have to wait until tomorrow for that?”

  Derek hung his head, seeking guidance before he did something they might both regret. “It might be best if we waited.”

  “You don’t wish to kiss me anymore? Did I not do it right?”

  Derek gasped and looked up at her. “You did it exactly right. That is the problem.”

  Tears flooded her eyes. “I don’t understand.”

  “I want more of you, Catherine. I want things a gentleman only takes from the woman he is married to.”

  “Oh.” Her eyes met his, and in them he saw courage and determination. “What if I want those same things?”

  Derek ached for her. Did she know what she did to him? “You have been through a terrible ordeal, first with Lord Lindsey and then with your illness. I do not wish to take advantage.”

  Her cheeks flamed with color. “If I ask you to bed me, then you are not taking advantage.”

  Derek nearly swallowed his tongue. “I should speak first to your father, ask for your hand.”

  She shook her head. “He would never allow it.”

  “Because I am common.”

  “You are not common to me.”

  Derek wanted to laugh at the irony. Her father would no doubt jump at the chance to marry his spinster daughter off to the Duke of Westwood. But Catherine would never marry a duke. Here, finally, was a woman who possessed all the qualities he most desired, but he could not have her as his wife. The situation suddenly seemed tragically ridiculous.

  “Why have you never married, Catherine? Surely someone so lovely had many suitors.”

  She crossed and uncrossed her fingers, staring at them for a long time before she flipped those potent eyes up to meet his. “I was once betrothed. Many years ago.”

  “What happened?”

  “His horse spooked on a jump they’d made hundreds of times before. Ian was thrown. His neck was broken.”

  Derek grasped her hand. “I’m so sorry.”

  “It was a very long time ago.”

  “And there has been no one since then?”

  “No,” she said sadly. “All the other eligible young men in my village were betrothed to others.”

  “So he was your one chance.”

  “Or so I thought.” After a moment of charged silence, she added, “I shock you with my candor.”

  “To the contrary. I find it refreshing.”

  “I am not a foolish young debutante, Jack. I am a fully grown woman who knows her own heart, who yearns for romance and passion, and who would rather be ruined by a decent, common man such as yourself than be the wife of a boorish aristocrat like Lindsey.”

  “What of love? Do you yearn, also, for love?”

  She shrugged. “I had love once. I am no longer naïve enough to believe it is the most important element of a successful match.”

  “Prudent and practical.”

  “I have had to be both since my father announced his intention to marry me off to Lord Lindsey.”

  Derek’s head was spinning. The woman of his dreams was offering herself to him with no reservations. Why then did he hesitate to take what she offered? “I would like to court you.” The words were out of his mouth before his brain caught up. “As much as it is possible to court someone under these conditions.”

  “My father and Lindsey are no doubt looking for me.”

  “If they get close, we will know. I have men positioned throughout the estate. Any outsider will be brought to me immediately.”

  “And what will we do if they succeed in finding me?”

  “Why don’t we determine that if it happens? And in the meantime . . .”

  “You would like to court me.”

  “With your permission, of course.”

  She smiled. “Permission granted. Whatever does courting entail under these circumstances?”

  “I imagine we’ll find out,” he said, squeezing her hand. “Will you be all right here alone tonight?”

  “Of course. I managed to survive on my own for three weeks, did I not?”

  “I refuse to even imagine how you did that. I will have an armed footman positioned outside with orders to shoot should anyone trespass into your yard.”

  “That will allow me to sleep in peace.”

  He rose from the settee, even though everything in him yearned to stay. “I bid you farewell until the morrow.”

  She did something with her long eyelashes that stirred his deepest desires. “When you return shall we begin our courtship?”

  “Indeed.” Bending to add more logs to the fire, he turned to find that she had stood to walk him to the door.

  “Mrs. Langingham tells me the seamstress from the village will be here in the morning to take measurements,” she said.

  “Then I shall aim to arrive after your meeting.”

  “I will await your arrival.” At the door, he turned to her, intending to leave her with a quick kiss on the cheek. But she curled her arms around his neck and went up on her toes to better reach his mouth. One taste was all it took to once again make his head swim.

  “Get some rest,” he whispered when he was finally a
ble to tear himself away.

  “You do the same.”

  As Derek left her standing in the doorway, he wondered how he could possibly sleep with blood boiling in his veins and desire thrumming through his body. He swung up onto Hercules, tipped his hat at Catherine, turned and headed for home.

  Chapter Seven

  Catherine watched Jack ride off on his black stallion. After a lifetime spent in stables, she appreciated the skill with which he handled the high-spirited mount. She couldn’t help but smile when she noticed the way his breeches hugged his muscular legs and backside. Yes, he and his splendid horse were both finely made males.

  She tempted him. Even an inexperienced woman recognized hunger in a man’s eyes, and the knowledge filled her with anticipation. How would she ever pass all the hours until he returned?

  Taking an anxious look around the yard and woods beyond, Catherine stepped into the cottage and slid the wooden lock into place. It certainly wouldn’t keep out a determined invader, but she would rest easier with the door locked. She carried their tray into the kitchen and put away the leftover cheese before draining the remnants of her wine.

  Fingering one of the dainty lace doilies on the small kitchen table, Catherine noted the duke’s grandmother had fussy taste, reflected in the feminine furniture and details in the small cottage. It was the perfect place to recover and hide out until Lord Lindsey gave up on finding her.

  For the first time since she had lost Ian, Catherine had romance on her mind. If only the infernal fever hadn’t left her so weakened. She was anxious to be courted by the dashing Jack Bancroft and to continue looking for her grandmother’s key. However, it would be a few days before her strength returned. Until then, she had to rest. Being still and inactive never had sat well with her, especially now that she was being courted by a devilishly handsome man. At least he would keep her entertained until she could resume the dig. The idea of how he might keep her entertained drew a nervous giggle from her.

  She changed into a clean night rail Mrs. Langingham had provided and brushed her hair until it fell in shiny waves to her waist. Even though it was still early, she slid between cool sheets on the four-poster bed and took deep breaths to quiet her busy mind. What if he decided he didn’t want a woman who all but threw herself at him? What if he decided he wanted a real lady and not a woman who pretended to be a lady while fancying travel and adventure and digging in the dirt for ancient artifacts?