Isabella tried to refocus on the search, relieved to no longer be alone in her quest but unable to focus on what she was looking for. Her body had responded to his kisses, while her mind was in torment over him. She wanted to explore things further, wondering if he could satisfy this urgent, desperate need he had awakened in her, but knowing that it was quite foolish to do so .
For heaven's sake, she could be ruined if someone saw her even kissing the man! Though did it matter? She was planning to leave anyway, far away from England where no one would know anything about her. That was, unless he was genuine in his affections, for then her future could look quite different. Did he mean what he said? Could she trust that, despite their difference in status, in wealth and even in life, that he might truly hold some affection for her ?
His willingness to help her, his encouragement to speak openly of all the difficulties she faced, told her that he did truly feel for her and wanted to assist her in her troubles. He could have very easily walked away from her and focused only on his task, but instead he seemed truly interested in her .
Or was it because she knew where the key was ?
The inner voice of caution rose up within her. Isabella shook her head to herself, refusing to believe what it told her. The Duke — Bradley — had been honest enough to tell her all that was going on, which included the potential treason her brother was involved in. He would not have told her the extent of it if he did not trust her. What she did not know was the depths of his affection. He could very easily breeze in and out of her life, with only a few stolen kisses and whispered words as memories of their time together .
Seeing him glance over at her, and aware that she was standing quite still instead of searching, Isabella turned to the next lot of shelves and began to hunt for the diary. She would have to consider the Duke carefully, before she lost her heart entirely .
* * *
T heir search yielded nothing, and finally, as Isabella yawned and weaved where she was standing, the Duke declared it was time to get some sleep. He led Isabella out the door and back down the stairs, where the house was now quiet. He bid her goodnight at her door before continuing on to his own room. Isabella wanted to ask him to come into her chamber, but she wasn’t sure if she was ready to give herself to a man who may not be part of her future .
Changing out of her dusty gown and into her nightclothes, Isabella was so tired that despite her racing thoughts, she soon fell into a deep sleep. When she woke hours later, it was still pitch black outside and she was befuddled as to what had awakened her, until she heard the noise .
It was shouting — or a moan? She couldn’t be sure, but it seemed to be coming from the room next door, the Duke’s bedchamber. Had Gerard entered his room — was he trying to do something to him? Sudden worries about the Duke had Isabella flying from her bed, not thinking of how she was dressed. She scrambled for the key to unlock the door of the adjoining dressing room, and she found the door on the Duke’s side still unlocked .
She pushed open the door, unsure of what she would find on the other side. When she stepped into his room, however, the only person within was the Duke himself. He was tossing and turning in his bed, mumbling and moaning in his sleep .
Before she could think of what she was doing, Isabella moved over the the bed, gently nudging his shoulder. When that didn’t do anything, she shook his arm, hard, in an attempt to wake him. Still, his arms flailed, and she had to duck to keep from making contact with him. Finally she grabbed him by the shoulders and called out to him — “Carrington! Carrington! Bradley !”
His eyes flew open and he immediately stilled, taking in his surroundings and Isabella’s face .
“Isabella? I — what… what are you doing ?”
“You were shouting out in your sleep. I came to see what was the matter .”
“Oh,” he sighed. “I’m sorry to have disturbed you. It’s nothing .”
“Clearly it is something ,” she said. “You were quite distraught .”
“It’s only a dream,” he said. “A nightmare really, that visits me over and over again. I dream of Roger’s death, the bullet coming through the air and striking him in the chest as he sat on the horse beside me .”
“Oh dear,” she said as she lifted a hand to his face. “I’m so sorry .”
“Nothing to be sorry for,” he said, his face softening as she leaned over him. “The dreams have lessened since I’ve been here actually — since I met you .”
She blushed, and then looked around her as if suddenly realizing when and where she was .
“I … I should probably return to my room .”
“You probably should .”
But for some reason she could not pull herself away from him, as she stayed leaning down over him. Slowly, she lowered her face to his, kissing him so softly, so sweetly that he barely felt it .
He reached his hand up into her hair, loosening it from it’s braid as he twined his fingers through it and let it fall down her back. He lifted her from where she sat on the edge of the bed and placed her on top of him, deepening the kiss and running his hands down her body. She felt every touch of him through her thin nightgown, and her skin felt like fire where his fingers had been .
She lifted her mouth from his. “I want … I need….” she whispered to him, as she yearned for something she couldn’t put words to .
“I know darling, but I won’t do that to you, not yet,” he said, as much as it pained him, “though I long to as well .”
She touched her forehead to his, knowing he as right but not wanting to accept it. “I just … you make something come alive inside me, that I never knew was possible .”
She kissed him again, and he realized that while he would not take her innocence, he could help her with what she was seeking .
His fingers went to the bottom of her nightgown, and he slowly inched them up her leg. She opened to him, and when he found her most tender place, she arched up at the sensation she had never felt before. His fingers moved over her nub, as the ache built within her .
“Please,” she said, not knowing what she was asking for. He did, however. He flipped her over so she was underneath him, and he trailed kisses down her body as he moved lower .
“What … what are you doing?” she asked. “You can’t —”
“I can,” he said, as his tongue replaced his fingertips, and he brought her the satisfaction she had been longing for .
15
D espite the very welcome visit from Isabella the previous night, Bradley spent the following day feeling nothing but anxiety and tension, aware that he was, very soon, to be at the climax of his investigation. He was more and more certain that Durand was the man behind Roger's death, given that he now believed that he had attempted to set up a situation where it would appear that Bradley had been the victim of a tragic accident .
Of course, Belrose could be quite mistaken about what he had seen, and Bradley might have no reason to be on his guard but, regardless, he could not help but be edgy. Visions of what Gerard might do assailed him. Poison in his teacup, a sudden shove over the side of the stairs. Of course, he did not think that Durand would do such a thing, for these would, no doubt, place suspicion on both himself and his guests. If Durand did plan for Bradley's death, then it would have to either look like an accident or be far away from the Durand estate, as the ambush on him and Roger had been .
“Ready?”
Bradley frowned as his friend extricated himself from the dancers to make his way over to him. “You sound much too eager, Kenley .”
“That is only because I am excited about what we might find,” Alastair replied with a grin. “While you have been chasing evidence as well as Miss Marriott, I have been able to do very little. I have had to act just as any other guest might .”
Shaking his head, Bradley couldn’t help but grin at his friend’s wry expression. “And you have enjoyed every minute of it. Dancing, cards, liquor, Lady Olivia … you cannot tell me that yo
u have found that a trial !”
Alastair laughed. “I cannot hide the truth from you, Carrington !”
“No, indeed, you cannot,” Bradley agreed, fervently. “I am sorry for what I said about Miss Marriott, however. It has taken me some time to accept that I find her quite the desirable woman and even more time to admit that affection for her grows in my heart .”
His friend did not look in the least bit surprised. “Indeed. I must say that I am glad to see your cynical heart has found its match at last, Carrington. She will be good for you .”
“I am not about to propose, Kenley!” Bradley exclaimed, slightly flustered. “I mean, we have – ”
“Why ever not?” Alastair interrupted, lifting one eyebrow. “You are well suited, you lust after her with your eyes and you clearly have an affection for each other which, in time, I’m quite sure will turn to love, and you shall have the kind of marriage most of us can only dream of .”
"I…." Bradley tried to think of some reason as to why he would not consider matrimony to Isabella. Perhaps Alastair was right. He made it sound so simple. If Gerard was guilty, there would be some scandal, but Bradley didn’t care so much about that. ”Well, at least let us get this entire business out of the way first," he said, eventually. "Then we shall see where the path takes us ."
Alastair chuckled. “It might take us to the end of your investigation, Carrington and then what shall you do ?”
It was on the tip of Bradley’s tongue to say that he would help Miss Marriott to find her family’s heirloom so that she might be free of her stepbrother for good, but he realized first that it was her secret to tell and secondly, the thought of wedding her would not let him go .
If he married her, then she could seek the heirlooms still but with no urgent need pushing her to continue searching with such desperation. They had not found anything last evening and he had seen the worry on her face as they had closed the door to the second room, evidently growing more concerned that, without the box, she was destined to be used as part of her stepbrother’s cruel schemes whether she wished it or not .
“Ah, Miss Marriott,” he murmured, when the woman in his thoughts drew closer to them as the rest of the guests continued with their dancing. “How lovely you look this evening .”
She smiled, as two spots of red appeared in her cheeks, adding to her loveliness. Tonight she was dressed in pale yellow dress that reminded him of sunshine, with delicate lace around the bodice that he longed to remove once again. “I thank you, Your Grace .”
“Please,” he said, quietly. “Carrington.” He chuckled, seeing the way she glanced at him in surprise, as Lord Kenley stood with them. His wishes in front of others made his regard for her rather public. “I believe I have told you, on more than one occasion, that I am not a stickler for propriety .”
She glanced at Lord Kenley, who excused himself almost immediately. “Last night, I asked you to call me Isabella, but only in private if you please ."
His heart swelled as he thought of more private times with her, and he caught her hand, pressing a light kiss on the back of it. "Very good, my dear Isabella,” he whispered. Her name on his lips felt right, as though it belonged there. "Now, I shall retire to my room and meet you shortly ."
Her blush deepened, but she nodded and moved away from him, walking over to her stepbrother and begging to excuse herself. Bradley chuckled to himself on seeing how she put on a pained expression, pressing one hand to her head. The excuse of a headache was to be used again, and, evidently, Gerard Durand did not care for it, excusing her with a wave of his hand and a disgruntled expression on his face. Bradley waited for another half hour before taking his leave of the guests – but not before he caught Lord Belrose shooting worried glances his way. Had the man recalled what he had said to Bradley in his drunken state? Bradley could not feel any kind of sympathy for Belrose, glaring at him before leaving the room .
As soon as he was back in his bedchamber, he opened the door to the small dressing room and found Isabella standing there, looking a little lost .
“Well done,” he smiled, stepping forward and catching her in his arms. “You have done very well, Isabella. I am quite sure this will all be over soon, and you will be free of your stepbrother regardless of what we find .”
“But we did not find the diary, and I’m not sure where else to search,” she murmured as she stepped back, her eyes not quite meeting his. “If Gerard is not guilty, then I cannot be free unless I find the diary .”
The urge to ask her to wed him, came over him with such strength that he had to bite his lip to keep the words back. Now was not the time nor the place to propose, for he had not even sorted the idea out in his own mind .
“I said I would keep you safe from him,” he said, eventually, his arms going around her waist as he tugged her to him. “And I meant it, Isabella. You need have no fear where your stepbrother is concerned. Just trust me .”
Her eyes met his and slowly the concern left them, and he felt her let out a long breath. “I do trust you,” she whispered, the smallest of smiles catching her lips. “I’m not sure exactly why, but I do .”
He could do nothing but kiss her gently, feeling the stirring in his loins that warned him not to take things too far. She was vulnerable and he did not want to take advantage of that. However, he couldn’t seem to hold himself back, finding his hand drifting to brush the soft skin above the neckline of her dress .
His mouth slanted over hers as his tongue skimmed her lips. She opened to him, catching his bottom lip with her teeth, driving him mad. His hunger for her increased, and he lifted her leg up around his hip, pressing against her. He unconsciously began to lift up at her skirts, drinking in her gasp. She lifted her mouth and moaned into his ear — and it was only when the sound of his bedchamber door opening met his ears that she pushed back, looking up at him with shock in her eyes .
He smiled at her, her hair mussed and her mouth red after his thorough kiss. He lifted her dress back up over her exposed breasts .
"Just Lord Kenley," he whispered, dropping a kiss on her forehead. He reluctantly let her go and led her back to his room .
Alastair did not look in the least bit surprised to discover that the two had been ensconced together, although he sent a large wink Bradley’s way .
“And now we must wait,” Bradley declared, ignoring Alastair altogether. “The guests have not yet retired and we shall have to wait a few more hours after that too .”
“They were all retiring as I left,” Alastair said, settling himself in a chair by the hearth. “And I caught the butler on my way here and asked him to send up a tray to your room. Said something about you having something of a delicate constitution at dinner but that you felt a little more hungry now .”
Bradley nodded. He had not eaten much at dinner, given how anxious he had been over the remainder of the evening, and a tea tray sounded just the thing. “Very good, Kenley,” he said, as Isabella sat down opposite his friend. “I doubt any of us will be able to sleep while we wait, although do not let me stop you from resting .”
“No, indeed,” Isabella declared, smiling at them both, although Bradley could see the strain in her expression. “I feel so anxious that I am not sure I could sleep a wink, even if I tried !”
“Courage, Miss Marriott,” Alastair smiled, as there came a scratch on the door. “By this time tomorrow evening, all will be in order .”
Bradley rose to open the door as Isabella hid behind it so as not to give herself away to the servants. Bradley’s eyes widened in surprise as he opened the door to find not the butler, nor a footman, but instead a very blonde, very beautiful woman .
16
“L ady Olivia!” he said in surprise, as the woman pushed past him into the room. “I say, I’m not sure —”
She looked around the room, taking in Isabella behind the door, a shocked expression on her face, and Alastair in front of the hearth with a grin
stretching from ear to ear. He rose and placed a kiss on the back of her hand. “Anger becomes you, milady,” he said, raising her ire even further .
She raised her eyebrows as the three of them looked at her like schoolchildren caught by the headmistress .
“At first, it was fairly clear what was happening when the two of you disappeared early,” she said to Bradley and Isabella before pointing at Alastair. “But you , my lord, are not known to withdraw from entertainment until the very end of the evening. Now, who will tell me what is happening here ?”
Bradley looked to Isabella, who seemed at a loss. She nodded to him that he could trust Olivia, but she looked seriously at her friend. “Olivia,” she said. “What we speak about must not leave this room .”
“Of course!” said Olivia indignantly .
“Olivia.”
“All right, I know I’m not known for discretion,” she said. “But if this is truly important, I promise I will not say a word .”
He was not quite convinced, but Bradley saw no other option and shared an outline of the details of what had brought them together, and she looked enthralled at the thought of being involved in such intrigue. He begged her to return to her room — four of them could be too much a crowd — but she refused, too excited to let this continue without her .
An hour or so later, Bradley caught the look on Alastair’s face, stopped his pacing, and glanced at the clock .
“I think now we should be all right,” he said, walking towards the door. “Give me a moment to check that the coast is clear .”
Opening the door just a crack, Bradley listened carefully for any sounds, only to be thoroughly convinced that the rest of the party had, finally, chosen to retire. There was no more laughter, no tinkling of the piano. Instead, there was only the beautiful sound of silence .
Once Upon a Duke's Dream Page 11
