Temptations of a Duke's Daughter (The Duchess's Investigative Society Book 2)

by Samantha Holt

“It’s my name.”

  “Yes, I know. I was just...trying it out.”

  “Will you tell me what you wished to speak about or not?” he snapped. “Are you giving up finally?”

  Any more time lingering over how his name sounded on her lips and he was going to stride out of the library and dive into the lake with all his clothes on just to get some sense of sanity.

  “Of course not.” She sent a sour look his way. “I spoke to Rose today.”

  “Rose?”

  “One of the laundry maids.”

  He grimaced. If it was one of the servants who remained here to keep things clean and tidy whilst he remained in the country, it was no wonder he didn’t know who that was.

  “Anyway, she said she thought Julian was courting a woman from back home.”

  “I do not think so.”

  “How would you know?” She set her feet on the ground and shoved the footstool away with one foot.

  “Well, I—” He eased out a breath. Admitting he knew more of Julian than she realized was not a possibility. “I just suspected.”

  “I think I should go and speak with his parents.”

  “I think the sheriff did as much.”

  “But I might be able to find out more. People like talking to me.”

  “As you have said before,” he said dryly. “However, do you not think it would be strange that this maid they have never met, has come to talk of them about their son?”

  “I should think they might find comfort in the fact I wish to find out what happened.”

  “You are not going,” he said firmly.

  She leaned forward, her posture slowly unfurling into the recognizable stand of privilege—chin raised, shoulders straight. A haughty air quality to the slight tilt of her nose. He doubted anyone told her no.

  Well, it was about time.

  “Why should it bother you?”

  “It is...improper.” He gestured vaguely to her then clasped his hands behind his back when she moved. He’d waved the red flag to the bull. He’d seen bullfighting in Spain on his Grand Tour and none of those creatures were as determined to run a man down than her. He had a fight on his hands now. If only this blasted woman were a tad more predictable.

  She rose from the chair and motioned to her uniform. “I am disguised as your maid. It cannot get more improper than this. All I need is for you to find out where they live. You must have a record of it somewhere—”

  He stood and drew himself to his full height to peer at her down his nose. “No.”

  If she met Julian’s parents, she might find out enough to put a few pieces together and he could not have that.

  “But—”

  “No.”

  “It is like you do not even wish to solve this matter!” She flung her hands in the air, twisted and stomped several steps away.

  “Why did I go and see where Julian died then?” he blurted. He closed his eyes briefly when she stilled and twisted on a heel. Now why did he want to go and provoke the bull? And why did he feel a desperate need to improve his standing in her eyes? He didn’t give a fig what anyone thought of him—most especially her.

  “You...went to my house?”

  “And met with your sister and aunt too. I wanted to hear what Lady Eleanor had to say about her meeting with Julian myself.”

  “I hope you were kind to her. This has been most aggravating for her.”

  “I was a perfect gentleman. I even wore a cravat.” He allowed himself a smug smile as her shoulders softened and the point of her chin retreated.

  “Oh.”

  “They are an interesting lot. I can see why you are the way you are.”

  “Oh? And how is that?”

  He took a step closer. Why, he could not be certain. Apparently he was no longer in control of his own movements.

  “You are clever.” He moved closer still. “Bold.”

  Another step and he was in front of her, within arm’s reach. She lifted her gaze to meet his and he glanced at her lips then spied the darkening of her eyes. This was interesting. Most women preferred words on their beauty. But not Chastity.

  “Determined,” he continued.

  “Yes,” she agreed softly.

  “Courageous.”

  She nodded and she wavered closer until there was barely a foot between them. His heart stuttered and the air about him thickened. He struggled to draw it into his lungs while his fingers prickled with the urge to grab her. Somewhere a voice told him to stop, but he was too far gone. He wanted to see what happened.

  “Loyal,” he added softly and reached out to press a strand of dark hair behind her ear. “Extremely loyal.”

  Her throat bobbed. “Yes,” she whispered.

  He leaned down until his lips were mere inches from hers. “Not to mention absurdly kissable.”

  Her mouth parted. She did not run, did not turn away. Chastity remained, as bold and as courageous as ever. Even if he wanted to, he could do nothing other than bring his mouth down upon hers.

  She gasped when their lips touched. The instant heat blooming through him made him groan. Her arms flung around his neck and drew him close. His only choice was to press his palms to the base of her spine and flatten her against him so he might feel every inch of her against his aching body. He wasted no time in deepening the kiss, stroking his tongue over hers and groaning again. She kissed him back with urgency, taking everything from him until time vanished and only they existed, suspended in some strange world where this desire was the only thing that mattered.

  They broke away at the same time. Valentine had to take a minute to gulp down a breath and check the ground was still in one piece beneath him because it felt as though the world had just collapsed.

  What in damnation had he just done?

  Chastity pressed a hand to her chest. “That was…”

  Incredible? Remarkable? The most ridiculously erotic kiss he’d ever partaken in?

  “Yes?” he managed to grate out.

  “A mistake,” she finally said.

  “Yes.”

  A huge mistake. And one he would not be making again anytime soon.

  Chapter Ten

  “I always did like brooding men.”

  Chastity peered at her aunt through a narrowed gaze. “What does that have to do with anything?”

  Her aunt shrugged as they continued their stroll along the meandering stone path of Green Park. Spring breezes gave way to burgeoning summer heat that beat down upon Chastity’s face despite her parasol, and she fought the desire to fling the thing away and turn her face to the sun. There was something to be said about the freedom to be freckled. She rather enjoyed not having to stay pale and freckle-free as a maid.

  Aunt Sarah pressed a finger to her lips. “You know there was a Mr. Bradbury, I think his name was, who paid particular attention to me and he had the most mysterious and brooding air. I did find him so intriguing, and I do believe he thought the same of me.” She grinned. “Though there has never been anything brooding about me,” she added. “But there really is something about them when they are all quiet and dark-eyed like that. Makes one imagine you could have quite the time bringing them out of themselves.”

  Chastity shared a look with Cassie, who walked on the other side of their aunt and had taken to wearing more jewel tones since her marriage. The emerald green gown flattered her pale features much more than the fair shades of a debutante. Her sister’s cheeks were perpetually rosy and it seemed marriage suited her. Thank goodness Cassie had chosen far better than Chastity ever had.

  Demeter had her arm looped through Cassie’s, and Chastity caught sight of the little tug Demeter gave. She smiled to herself. Demeter loved her walks and always wanted them to walk as far as possible. When in the country, she could be counted on to vanish for hours, trekking over every hill in the vicinity and walking miles.

  Today, however, there was no time for long walks or brisk paces that would make them breathless. She had little time away from her d
uties, and she needed to update her sisters on her investigation.

  Or lack thereof so far, she supposed.

  The fact Eleanor hadn’t accompanied them meant things had not improved at home. She never missed out on a chance to walk with them all.

  “Uncle Simon was never brooding,” pointed out Cassie.

  Aunt Sarah wagged a finger, the huge amethyst setting of her ring catching the light. “That is beside the point. Sometimes bold women like us need a quiet man. It balances us out.” She indicated between her and Chastity.

  “You forget, Aunt, that I have had a man, and I do not need another,” Chastity reminded her.

  “There is a complete difference between need and want.”

  Chastity closed her eyes briefly. Want? Need? Who could tell the difference? After being kissed by Lord Kendall, she felt both—deep in her core. As though she both wanted and needed more kisses. Which was entirely ridiculous. Her aunt might enjoy brooding men, but she did not. She didn’t enjoy men at all. Give her the company of women any day and let men stay as they were—at a distance and unkissed by her.

  Children’s laughter drew her attention to the edge of the lake where nannies and their charges gathered to retreat from the heat of the day under the shady canopy of the trees whilst the children waded into the edge of the cold water, their clothing tucked up around their thighs.

  She recalled doing the same when she had been a child and in London; though Cassie and Eleanor had been too young to join her. Once she was older, she had been forced to watch over them from a blanket on the grass instead—yet it never bothered her. Looking after her younger sisters always brought her great pleasure.

  Her throat tightened. All she wanted for them was happiness, for them to never suffer through what she had, yet somehow she had been unable to shield Eleanor from misery.

  “Chastity?”

  She turned and forced herself to focus on Demeter. “Pardon?”

  “I asked if you were managing to maintain your role as a maid.”

  She smiled thinly. “I believe so. The early mornings are utter misery, but the earl is a simple man with simple needs.”

  Unless one counted needing to kiss her. Or wanting to. Or whatever it was. Nothing felt simple about that kiss.

  “The housekeeper thinks me unnecessary, and I would be inclined to agree with her.”

  “At least he runs a good household,” Demeter said. “There are many who are most unkind to their servants, and he does have a look to him.”

  “Oh, Lord Kendall might look mean, but he is most certainly not.” She paused and scowled to herself.

  Why was she defending him? His servants were loyal, well-paid and given a day off a week—far more than many households—but it hardly made him a saint. Their own servants were treated similarly after Chastity’s mother taught them the importance of treating those who work for you well.

  The rewards of having loyal and caring employees were certainly worth the additional expense in Chastity’s mind. Unfortunately, John had never thought so and running his household had been entirely different to keeping things going for Anton. Of course, now that her brother was married, she did not have a say in such matters anymore, so this investigation had come at an ideal time really.

  Not that she was grateful for it. Oh no. She’d rather the young man was alive and Eleanor untouched by scandal.

  And she was untouched by Valentine…

  “Have you found out anything at all yet?” Cassie prompted. “Eleanor is starting to look frightfully thin and would not even accompany us today for fear of drawing the wrong attention.” Cassie shook her head and sighed. “You know that most of her devastation is because she fears the damage it will do to us and not her.”

  “She scarcely leaves her room,” Demeter added.

  “Not even when I tried to tempt her out with a new device,” Cassie declared. “It is most worrying to see.”

  Chastity grimaced. “I had hoped at least coming here rather than Regent’s Park would help. Besides which, I would rather not be seen by those who know us so we may continue our ruse that I am in the country with friends. If Anton sees me in London, he shall say something to Papa.”

  “Father has scarcely noticed your absence.” Demeter waved a hand. “Y-You know how he is these days. And Anton is far too in love with Eliza to notice much either.” She made a face. “I am happy for them both but goodness, it’s mightily strange to hear your brother whisper sweet words to his wife at the breakfast table.”

  Cassie nodded. “Anton is secretly a romantic.”

  “As are we all,” sighed Aunt Sarah.

  Demeter shook her head. “Not me.”

  “Nor me,” added Chastity. Her late husband had put a damper on any romantic notions she had long ago. “Anyway, with any luck I shan’t be much longer. I intend to visit Mr. Harper’s parents,” Chastity explained. “There is talk that he was courting someone from home, yet no one knows anything of her, and it seems odd that it should be kept a secret.”

  Demeter nodded. “It does seem logical that this has to do with a love match. Perhaps the woman was married.”

  “Perhaps, but I cannot persuade Lord Kendall to tell me anything of the man’s family and there is no chance the housekeeper will give me any of his details.”

  “How odd. Do you think the earl has lost interest in solving the matter?” Cassie asked.

  “I do not believe so but maybe he fears the attention such a visit will draw.” Chastity shrugged. “Either way, I do believe I need to speak with them. It would be useful.”

  “I can have Luke check the census records at Parliament,” Cassie suggested.

  Chastity grinned. “That is precisely why I wish to meet. Your husband is a useful man.”

  “He certainly has his uses.” Cassie offered a sly smile. “I shall send word once we have the address.”

  “Perfect. Now I must make haste. I was meant to collect these sheets from the laundry, and I have taken too long already.” She lifted the bundle in her arms.

  Demeter gestured up and down her. “Be sure to change before you return or else you shall look mightily odd.”

  “And enjoy that brooding man, my dear. I sense something quite special in him,” Aunt Sarah added.

  Chastity rolled her eyes but gave her aunt a quick kiss on the cheek. Her aunt might adore the idea of romance, but Chastity did not. Romance had ruined her life once and she was not willing to let it happen again.

  ∞∞∞

  Valentine shoved a hand through his damp hair and shivered when a droplet trickled down his spine. Not unwelcome in the heat of the day, he had forgone rubbing his hair or body dry and had chosen to sling his shirt and trousers directly onto skin wet from his swim. He would have swum earlier in the day, before the sun reached its pinnacle, but he’d suffered a restless night and had arisen ridiculously late for him. Even Lane noted the late hour.

  Damn it all. Chastity was making a mess of his life, of his routine. The perfectly crafted life he had made for himself had splintered at the edges simply because of her presence.

  And the kiss of course.

  He strode away from the lake, moving briskly. His muscles burned from the vigorous swim and his skin still tingled yet it was not enough to rid himself of this madness. Save from drinking himself into a stupor, there was little else to do. Besides which, he would save the drinking for a specific day—one coming up far too soon. Not only did he have to contend with a day he only ever wished to forget, he had that bloody kiss rocketing around his mind.

  Still no progress on Julian either. He should have known this fool plan would come to naught. He should get Mrs. Cooke to rid the household of her—that would solve most of his problems and erase any need to repeat said kiss.

  Not that there was any chance of that happening. She said it had been a mistake too. So it was hardly likely to reoccur was it?

  He picked up his pace. Perhaps several loops around the garden would help. He moved with brisk, s
tomping steps past the parterre, already blooming with red and yellow tulips, as though he could stamp his very thoughts into the ground and bury them deep where he could never retrieve them.

  This was what happened when one stayed celibate for too long, clearly.

  It was a fine explanation and one he rather liked. At least he did not have to ponder why he kissed Chastity and why it had felt like something he simply had to do.

  He paused at the sound of a squeak emerging from a bush partway up the gravel path. An animal perhaps? Branches swayed and leaves rustled. Too big to be an animal. An intruder?

  He approached with deliberate steps, aware of the tiny crunch beneath his feet, despite moving slowly. His breath held, he rounded the bush.

  An unholy scream ripped through the leaves.

  He jumped back a few steps and clapped a hand over his eyes. Not just someone.

  Chastity.

  “What the devil are you doing?” he asked from the comforting darkness behind his hand.

  She huffed. “Trying. To. Get. This. Wretched. Dress. Off.” She huffed again. “Obviously.”

  “Obviously,” he muttered and split his fingers to peer through the gap. Lace, petticoats and a hint of bare back made up the crouched pile that was Chastity.

  He lowered the hand slowly. “Why are you dressed like that?” He gestured to the expensive silks.

  “I had to meet with my sisters.” She narrowed her gaze at him, remaining low behind the bush.

  If anyone looked out, they would see him having a conversation with a plant and conclude he had well and truly lost his wits.

  “You know, you could cease staring and help me.”

  He jolted. Had he been staring? His gaze landed back on the bare shoulder marred only by a thin strap and grimaced. Yes. Yes, he had.

  Ducking behind the bush, he eyed the back of her open gown and hesitated. It had been a long time since he’d undressed a woman. Even in—what?—five years, things could have changed.

  “Come on, Valentine,” she urged. “I need to get back to work before someone notices my absence.”

  “There must have been an easier way to see your sisters.” He hovered a hand over the tiny buttons at the back of her gown. “How did you even get into it in the first place?”