Once Upon a Duke's Dream

by Ellie St. Clair

  Bradley frowned, a sickening feeling growing in his chest. Had Durand been attempting to do away with him? A horse with a spur under its saddle could be unpredictable and Bradley knew he could have easily been thrown should he have gone riding with the rest .

  “Best go to my room, old chap,” Belrose interrupted, swaying as he attempted to stand. “I’ll see you tomorrow .”

  Bradley wanted to follow him, to grasp him by the collar and shake until he got more answers, but he knew it would be futile to do so. Instead, he bit his tongue and remained where he was, watching Lord Belrose attempt to make his way to the door .

  Doubts lingered in his mind. Something was very wrong about this situation and he did not want to believe Belrose’s words without question. Was Isabella really betrothed, as Belrose had said? Or was she merely a pawn in her stepbrother’s game, being used in whatever way he wanted? Would she be forced into matrimony somehow, if she was not being pushed already? He did not think that she cared for Belrose, even though she had paid him a little more attention of late. Then again, none of this was his business. He was meant to be focusing on Durand and his connection to the French, not losing himself in Isabella — no, Miss Marriott’s affairs .

  Bradley shook his head, knowing that he could not leave the matter to rest. Whether it was his place or not, he would have to speak to Miss Marriott and discover the truth. If she was engaged, as Belrose said, then he would leave things there. However, if she was not, then he would tell her what he knew. He did not want her to be lured into a marriage with Lord Belrose that would end up hurting her in the long run. Would she speak to him? Would she believe him? Staring broodily into the fire, Bradley allowed his thoughts to turn to the lady once more, realizing that, soon enough, he was going to have to face up to the growing affection he had for her in his heart .

  His eyes went to the plant where he had poured his brandy and, to his utter shock, he saw that the leaves were wilting, looking a darker green than before. Had he been correct? Had Durand put something in his glass? A slight shudder went through him as he rose from his chair, picked up the offending glass, and threw it in the fire. This situation had suddenly taken on a more dangerous turn .

  13

  T he next night, Isabella padded down the hallway with the candlestick held firmly in her hand, trying not to breathe as she climbed the staircase to the upper floor of the estate. Gerard and the rest of his guests were still awake, judging by the sound of the raucous laughter that floated up towards her. It had been another day of evading the Duke, and tonight she had managed to slip away almost unnoticed, not having any particular interest in either playing cards or joining in the ribald conversation .

  Sighing to herself, she shook her head and leaned against the wall for a moment, her lungs growing painful at the swift nature of her climb. She would be well hidden from Gerard and the other guests by now. Even if they did come out of the drawing room and make their way to their beds, they would not see her. She intended to spend a few hours searching some of the smaller, unused rooms at the top of the house. All the bedchambers were on the floor below, which meant that no one had any reason to be up here .

  She walked down the slightly eery corridor. This floor was so rarely used, it had an empty, lonely feel to it. She approached the door of the room she wanted to search, which she remembered as a long, open room that had always been used to store various items .

  Once she was within, the light of her candlestick would not be seen through the solid oak door. Pushing it with all her might, she prayed that it would open, her grip turning the handle of the door but, to her frustration, it did not budge. Setting the candlestick down, she turned the door handle again, feeling it turn completely. It was just her strength that was lacking then, for it was evident the door was unlocked, but stuck. Gerard had taken her keys to the house some time ago, and she had never been able to retrieve all of them so the fact that these doors remained unlocked was a blessing .

  “Might I help you ?”

  A low voice had her shrieking, the sound echoing through the corridors. Clapping a hand over her mouth, she turned to see none other than the Duke approach her, his eyes on her face. A sudden weakness rushed through her from the fright he had given her and she sagged against the door, only for him to catch her under the elbow .

  "I do apologize, Miss Marriott," he said, quietly. "I did not mean to startle you ."

  “Hush, please!” she exclaimed, wrenching her arm from his. She waited until he had clamped his mouth shut before listening hard for any change in the sounds from the other guests. Thankfully, the laughter was still the same, and someone was hammering out some awful tune on the pianoforte. Letting out a long sigh of relief, Isabella glared at the Duke, hating that he had somehow discovered her presence up here .

  “I confess I followed you,” he continued, as though reading her thoughts. “We have not spoken in almost two days and I could not continue in such a fashion .”

  “Please,” Isabella begged, keeping her voice as low as possible. “You must be quiet. I cannot be seen here .”

  He studied her for a moment, before nodding and stepping forward towards the door she had been trying to open. He had to put his shoulder to it, but soon the door began to move, creaking loudly as it opened to them. Once there was a big enough gap for her to escape through, Isabella nipped inside, holding her candlestick aloft so that she might look about the room .

  The Duke’s presence behind her made her catch her breath despite herself, her heart leaping into her throat as his arm grazed hers .

  “Here,” he said gruffly, holding out another candlestick. “This room could do with a little more light .”

  "I am not sure they will take," Isabella replied, frowning. "This room looks to have remained unused for some time." The candles sputtered and refused to catch but, eventually, the Duke held two candlesticks, each holding three candles. It certainly helped her to see the room a little more clearly. It was full of old furniture and forgotten belongings, most covered by cloth and dust .

  “I do not require any further assistance, Your Grace,” she said, turning towards the Duke .

  “Carrington,” he corrected her .

  “Your Grace,” she repeated. “Although I do thank you for your help thus far .”

  His brows furrowed as his blue eyes bore into hers with an intensity that made her tingle. “Oh no, Miss Marriott. I am not about to be so easily sent away. I believe we have much to say to each other .”

  She frowned and looked down. “I do not believe I have anything to say to you, Your Grace .”

  “I think you do.” Putting the candlestick down, he moved closer to her and caught her chin with one gentle finger. Raising her face to his, he waited until she met his gaze before speaking. There was a softness in his expression that made her heart quicken its pace and her entire body come alive at once .

  She tried to remain quite stern-faced towards him, though she cursed herself as her feelings came so quickly to the surface. It did not take much, it seemed, for her to fall back under his spell, despite her inclination not to do so. Her foolish heart was already twined with his, even though she had promised herself not to consider him any longer .

  "I am here to help you, Miss Marriott," he said, quietly. "I will be honest with you if you can be honest with me ."

  Surprised, she regarded him with caution. “You mean to say that you will tell me what it is you have been hiding? I was right to suspect so ?”

  “You are quite right, Miss Marriott,” he replied, sounding quite resigned to the fact that he was going to have to tell her everything in order for her to trust him. “I have been hiding the truth from you, but no longer .”

  Isabella did not know what to think. Should she believe him and tell him everything that was going on? Did he truly wish to help her ?

  "I can go first if you prefer," he said, softly, with a half smile. “I have been untr
ustworthy up until this point, but no longer. I swear it. You deserve the truth, and not just because I want to prove myself to you .”

  Isabella nodded, and sat down in an old dusty chair, not caring about her gown. "Very well," she said, gesturing for him to begin. He looked a trifle uncomfortable as he took a seat across from her in a matching chair that had been hidden away for storage and seemingly forgotten. He began to speak, warning her that what he had to say might not be easily accepted on her part, but still, he continued. Hearing about his friend's death, Isabella's heart wrenched, her hand going to her chest as she saw the pain on his face as he described the man who had been his closest friend .

  "And so, you think my stepbrother might be the man behind all this," she said slowly, narrowing her eyes a little .

  The Duke shrugged. “I cannot say for certain, Miss Marriott. All I know is that there are three Frenchmen here and two of them are in cahoots, although Belrose is not privy to all that Gerard has planned .”

  Isabella stared at him in shock. “Lord Belrose is the one involved with my brother ?”

  He cleared his throat and nodded, looking a little abashed. “I am afraid that Charles Belrose is a little too talkative when he is in his cups. He explained to me that your stepbrother has promised you to him on the condition that, once you are wed, he gives half of your fortune to Durand .”

  A cold chill washed over her, her heart sinking to the floor. “I see,” she said, through numb lips .

  “I’m sorry to tell you this about your betrothed, but I felt you should know .”

  “My betrothed?” She said in surprise. “I am not betrothed to the man, Your Grace .”

  “According to Lord Belrose and your stepbrother, you are .”

  She gave a harsh laugh, her pain evident on her face. “I have never liked my stepbrother, Your Grace. I believe you can see why .”

  "He has moved here without your consent," the Duke said matter of factly, as some relief showed on his faceg. “And you have no one to aid you .”

  “Indeed,” Isabella whispered, hanging her head. “Well, that is somewhat untrue. I do have Olivia, though she does not know the full extent of the goings-on here.” She smiled through the tears that threatened to fall due to her frustration at the entire situation. “She was quite put out by your actions the other day, Your Grace. You are lucky I held her back .”

  A sudden thought struck her and she looked up at him, terrified that he would think her complicit. “You do not think that I am in any way involved in this scheme ?”

  “No, of course not,” he reassured her, his words filled with sincerity. “Well — I admit I did wonder at first, but not once I came to know you better. Though I could tell from the first moment I met you that you did not care for your brother. It has not been until I came here that I discovered the full truth about what he is like .”

  Isabella dropped her head, trying desperately to keep her tears at bay. She did not want to break down in front of him, but she had been forced to be so strong for such a great length of time that even just speaking with him about this made her walls begin to break .

  His hand lightly touched her shoulder and she looked up to see the Duke looking down at her with a sympathetic smile. “I am here to help you, Miss Marriott, if you will let me,” he said, with a tenderness that made her want to weep. “I confess that I have a growing affection for you which, for my own reasons, I have been battling but, regardless of whether you return them or not, I wish to help you in your current predicament .”

  Isabella swallowed the lump in her throat and gave him a somewhat watery smile. “I confess that my thoughts are so confused that I am not sure in what direction to turn .”

  “Then tell me what it is you are searching for,” he said, crouching down in front of her so that he might look more deeply into her eyes. “I know that you have not found it, whatever it is, as you told me .”

  “No, I have not,” Isabella replied, miserably. Haltingly, she began to tell him a few details, but then found herself relating to him the whole story, including her plan to run away to the Americas. She thought he might laugh at her for being so ridiculous but, instead, he simply nodded .

  “Quite a predicament we are in, then,” he murmured, with a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Both searching for something we cannot be sure will be there .”

  Isabella tried to laugh but could not quite manage it, her emotions so close to the surface that she was struggling to contain them. “You need to get into the cabinet, then,” she said, softly. “I am sure I know where he hides the key, although we will have to find a way to get into the study again .”

  “It was not locked the last time,” he replied, with a frown. “Is that unusual ?”

  "Very," Isabella replied, firmly. "Perhaps it was because he knew he was not to go riding after all." Her eyes searched his face, realizing that, for the first time, there was a frankness about his expression that told her he was being completely honest with her. She could not be angry over his lack of willingness to discuss the situation, given what he suspected of her stepbrother, but the knowledge that she might not only be related to, but housing, a traitor brought a cold shame to her heart. She would help him if, for no other reason, than to determine Gerard’s true nature .

  “Perhaps we might go in the dead of night,” he suggested, chuckling at her surprised expression. “Lord Kenley is, in fact, something of a genius when it comes to locks, although I think the small locks in the cabinet are too small for even his nimble fingers. We shall require the key for those ones, I believe .”

  Isabella gave a slow smile. “I know where that key is hidden .”

  “Wonderful,” the Duke smiled, pressing her hand for a moment. “Then we shall see for certain whether or not your brother is the one behind Roger’s murder.” His smile slipped. “And if he is, then I am sorry for whatever consequences come your way, even though you will have nothing to do with the situation .”

  “Please,” she replied, grasping his hand firmly. “You must not worry about me. I will have my freedom in either case and that is the most important thing to me .”

  Their eyes met and their gazes held for what felt like minutes, to the point that Isabella felt her heart slam into her chest repeatedly, suddenly overwhelmed by what she saw in his eyes. Shadows flickered across his face from the candlelight, highlighting his dark eyes and strong jaw brushed with stubble, and the memory of his lips on hers was brought forcefully back to her mind .

  “Miss Marriott,” he breathed, his words caressing her cheek. “I am sorry for what I have done to cause you pain and confusion. Believe me when I say that you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes upon and that, despite my embittered heart, I am discovering that I hold a deep affection for you. I want you more than I have ever wanted anything before in my life .”

  14

  S he could not speak, could not respond, and when his mouth pressed against hers in a searing kiss, it was all she could do to hold onto him, desperate for him to linger. Fire erupted in her core, shooting flames through her whole body as he angled his head to deepen the kiss. Her arms made their way around his neck, her fingers digging into the silky dark chestnut of his hair as she clung to him. There was no help for her. Her strength of mind was too weak, she thought, as her mouth parted beneath the insistent pressure of his .

  She drew in a shuddering breath as he dragged his lips from hers and began to kiss a trail down her neck. Stunned, she realized that his hand was on the curve of her breast, burning through the thin cotton of her dress. She ought to be fighting it, ought to be telling him to stop, but Isabella discovered her body was reacting in ways she had never experienced before. Fear mingled with desire, her breath coming hard .

  He lifted his head and smiled at her, dark passion within his glittering blue eyes. She looked back at him, her pulse thundering in her ears. Her gaze flicked to his mouth, aware of where it had been
only moments before. Involuntary tremors raked her body as he brushed the tips of his fingers across her breast, making her gasp. Then, his mouth was back on hers once more, and she was just as helpless to stop him .

  He caught her around the waist, pressing her hard against the wall so that the length of his body was flush against hers. Something pressed against her belly and, immediately, desire ravaged through her — a longing for something she did not quite understand. Heat pooled in her core, making its way down her body, and Isabella flushed with embarrassment, gasping against the onslaught of his lips .

  He broke the kiss and gently pushed down the bodice of her dress, freeing her breasts. His eyes roved over them, before his lips trailed down along her neck to the rosy bud of her nipple. She gasped as he sucked it, his fingers toying with the other side. His lips returned to hers as his wide hands spanned her waist, while her arms wrapped around him and her fingers dug into his back and bicep .

  She moaned, and the sound brought him back to his senses .

  “I must apologize,” he muttered, suddenly breaking their connection and drawing in a ragged breath as he rested his forehead against hers. “I should not be taking such liberties. Forgive me .”

  Isabella found that she had no words, her body still roaring with heat, her blood still pumping through her with a ferocity she had not expected .

  “It is not … that is I … I welcomed it, do not be sorry .”

  “I suppose we should begin our search,” he said, with just a hint of laughter in his words as he stroked her cheek.. “My dear Miss Marriott, you are too tempting for words .”

  “Isabella,” she gasped out .

  His eyes widened. “Isabella, then. Could we revisit Bradley ?”

  She looked up at him with some trepidation. “Perhaps when — when we are alone .”

  He gave her a wolfish grin as he let her go, easing her away from him, his fingers lingering on hers as he led her to the middle of the room where they began exploring. It was eerily quiet here, seemingly another house entirely .