My Divinely Decadent Duke

by Sandra Masters

  The duke followed his mother up the steps and she turned to the right to her room, while he entered his chamber where his valet waited.

  “Have you selected formal evening outfits you wish to wear?” the valet asked.

  “The black silk breeches with the brocade waistcoat and the double-breasted jacket should do. I will wear the linen shirt with the high collar along with my cravat.” He sat in his usual chair while the valet shaved him, his mind a million miles away from the subject at hand—how to win his wife back.

  He thought of Cassandra’s wedding ring, a simple band he’d purchased. Yet the dynasty did have a collection he wanted to review. The one he favored most was the one he did not give her. There was sentiment attached to it. His grandfather gave it to his grandmother. Althorn went to his safe in the study, and withdrew the ring box. He would give it to her tonight…after she told him about their baby.

  His mother waited for him and they descended together. Her diamond tiara sparkled like a thousand moons.

  He had sent Cassandra’s tiara with the maid. They ascended the coach and went to the nanny house to pick up Cassandra, who waited regally for them in her small sitting room.

  Good God, she was a vision in champagne colored silk. Her tiara suited her flaxen hair and her dress flowed down her curved body. Tall, statuesque, and voluptuous, he wanted to take her back to his chambers His loins tightened in intense desire. He exhaled and quelled the raging need. It would have to wait its turn. And when that’d happen, worlds would scorch and passions would ignite the universe.

  He exhaled and helped her into her cape, and the three left for the Royal Pavilion. Coaches waited in line, but his ducal insignia allowed them to pass through, and speed wasn’t the word to describe the entourage of carriages who awaited the audience.

  The footmen assisted in departure and the duke was well known as a favorite of the King to the majordomo who screened all guests. So the information was taken and they were ushered in. Evening capes, hats, and accessories were received by special attendants.

  Soon they were at the ballroom entrance and were announced. “Their Graces, The Duke and Duchess of Althorn, and the Dowager Duchess Althorn.”

  They descended the long staircase and melded into the crowd. Chandeliers and candelabrums glittered, baskets of flowers hung overhead in certain side rooms, and a general gay atmosphere surrounded them.

  “Gordon, even though we’ve been here before, this event takes my breath away.”

  “His Majesty enjoys only the very best for himself and his guests. This is his special pleasure palace. He entertains in London at his many homes, but little else compares to the glory of this residence and his pride in this special edifice.”

  He turned to his mother. “I see some of your friends. Would you like me to escort you there to sit with them? I’m sure you have much to catch up on.” He winked at her, and she smiled happily.

  “Thank you, son. It’s so. Why don’t you two mingle with the younger set? I’m sure our talks would bore you.”

  He whispered in her ear. “You are a great conspirator.”

  She smiled graciously to him, and was warmly greeted by other ladies.

  Althorn conducted Cassandra around the perimeter of the room, nodded to some friends, and greeted others.

  “Have you saved dances for your husband?” he asked, a mirthful smile crossed his face.

  “Actually, they are the first and the last, plus two waltzes. I may sit a few out because it does make me dizzy.” She let the dance card slip from her hand and took her fan, flipped it open, and brushed it across her face.

  “Is that so? You have a flirtatious look about you. Perhaps we can sit on the balcony and the fresh air will invigorate you.” His gaze held hers. “Have I told you all women here tonight pale in comparison to you?” He took her hand.

  “No, but you still have the ability to charm me.” She sighed. “Your evening attire fits you well and is rather snug. Is it comfortable?” She lowered her eyes.

  “Somewhat. It is the latest fashion, and with you on my arm, wife, I’m sure we make a spectacular couple. However, any time you desire to strip me of my evening wear, I am your eager slave.” His fingers circled her palms. “Are you nervous?”

  “I have the notion you’re up to no good, Althorn.”

  “Most assuredly, dear Cassandra, you could be correct.”

  One of his gentleman friends came up to them, and shook the duke’s hand and smiled at Cassandra. “Congratulations, old chap. Just heard the good news. Doesn’t surprise me though.”

  She arched an eyebrow. “What good news?”

  “I would think you know, Cassandra.”

  Another couple came up to them and expressed happiness. Soon they were surrounded by well wishers.

  Cassandra tugged on her husband’s jacket. “Please escort me to the balcony or some private room. We need to speak.” She didn’t meet his eyes.

  “Of course, my dear. I’ll lead you to a special private room I remember. It has a balcony, too.” He rushed her away. “You may not strike your husband in public at the King’s Soiree. It is in bad taste. The ton would say Tsk, tsk.” He led her into an exotic oriental parlor and locked the door.

  “Will this suit you?” he inquired. “Perhaps you’d like to sit? There a lovely Ottoman styled couch or there are two chairs in front of the brazier fire.”

  “You rogue. You know?” She fingered his lapel; her hand lingered and brushed the satin.

  Enthralled at how she walked to the lounge and sat on it, he simply inhaled the view as she patted her hand beside the empty space, a silent offer for him to share it with her.

  “Yes, I know. Why couldn’t you share such a joyful event with me?”

  “It was never a part of the plan because it would bind us together in immeasurable ways. It would be entrapment to a man who enjoys his freedom. Please believe me, Gordon. I never wanted to bind you to a marriage I forced you to accept.”

  “Poppycock, it wasn’t so.” He touched her satin skin with the knuckles of his hand. “You didn’t force me into anything. Freedom and entrapment are just words. It no longer applies to this rake.”

  “Gordon, I’m afraid. Afraid of the future. Afraid for our child. Afraid for what will happen to us. Are you truly happy about my condition?”

  “What man wouldn’t be thrilled to father a child with a woman such as you?”

  They were close together on a silk couch and his thoughts were wicked. “I find I desire you day and night. You consume my mind, my body, my heart. Cassandra, can’t you see this?” His hand fingered her lips in a slow sensuous touch. “I look at your mouth, your nose, your eyes, and I can find no fault, but it is not the outer beauty that amazes me.”

  Althorn took her to him. Cassandra laid her head on his shoulder, and listened to his heartfelt words.

  “It is the inner you that endears. The woman who is selfless and thinks of everyone but herself. I take it as my duty to let you know how cherished you are by all you touch with your grace, charm, and compassion. How was I ever fortunate enough to obtain you, I would say was God’s will. Everyone knows, I bungled it badly.”

  “Not everyone,” she whispered. “I’ve had the most fantastic time of my life—in your home, in your life, in your arms. No one can rob me of those memories.”

  He arose and fell to one knee. “You once inferred to me you wanted a husband who’d be a friend and a lover. For the short time you’ve been gone, I wanted you to know how I have missed you and the children. I’ve wanted to show you how much I have changed and did something wildly symbolic and…romantic.”

  Still on his knees, he handed her the ring box he’d held in his breast pocket. “Open it, Cassandra.”

  She unlatched it. Her eyes widened and glistened like the stars of the firmament.

  “My grandfather gave this to my grandmother. One ring is for your finger and the other is for mine. Notice that when they mesh together,” and he showed her how, “th
ey represent my ducal signet. What I try to say rather badly, my dearest, whom I love with every beat of my heart, is I am only half a man without you.” He removed the simple gold band from her hand and replaced it with the heirloom piece.

  “Please don’t discard the ring. I still treasure it, but will wear it on my other hand, Gordon.”

  “Place the other half on my finger, Cassandra. It is symbolic of our new life.”

  She did and the look he saw in her eyes held a thousand promises and no more goodbyes.

  “My beautiful angel, mother of my child, I do love you. However, my knees weren’t designed to stay in this position, so I will arise. It’s difficult, at best,” he cajoled.

  Cassandra thought she heard thunder, but the evening sky was serene, and her tears flowed as she fondled the ring on her hand. His lips softly kissed each tear.

  “I do hope these are tears of joy, Cassandra.”

  “Oh, yes. Gordon. I now believe you love me.” She raised her finger to look at the sapphire- and diamond-encrusted ring. Thank you, my love.” She squeezed him gently.

  “Please come back to me. I miss you so. You are the love of my life, and I don’t want another second without you in it. What more can I say to convince you? The cottage is a novelty and perhaps we can use it to tryst when we want to get away from the world. My bed, my heart, and my world are empty without you.”

  He went to place his hand on her stomach, but stopped. “May I? May I touch the womb that harbors my dearest wish?”

  She nodded, more tears escaped.

  His hand hovered over her belly. He spoke to the unborn babe, “Dear child of mine, I love you as much as I love your mother. I will protect you with my life. You are so wanted. My happiness cannot be contained.”

  He rose, pulled her to him. “Are you content now, my love? Do you have any idea what you and the children mean to me?” His hands splayed her back. “I kiss you with the warmth of my heart—not passion, but the love one man has for a special woman. I know our love will fire into an inferno, but for the moment it is beautiful and priceless. Oh, how I adore you.”

  She placed her hand in his, and they walked back from the oriental opulence into the splendiferous ballroom to where the dowager sat with the other matrons.

  It was a spectacular moment, as he addressed his mother, “Mother, all is well.” And for all to see, impetuously, he picked up his wife and twirled her around him gently. Every gaze in the room was upon them.

  “I am the happiest man in the world.”

  “Kiss me, Cassandra. Tell me you love me, too. It’s only fair.”

  “You wicked man,” she squealed and planted a kiss on his nose. Her body slithered seductively down his. He stopped her mid-way with a chaste kiss.

  “We have shocked everyone, but you are my decadent husband. I love you, always have, and always will.”

  Cassandra’s happiness overwhelmed. She was content. Everything would be all right. Nothing could hurt them now.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  The pressman had a field day with the explosive gossip.

  The Tattler Tales wrote:

  His Majesty’s gala was well attended. Unexpected was the announcement that Her Grace Althorn is in a family way. It came as a surprise to all, especially to her husband, his Grace. When the news was proclaimed, the duke cared not about propriety, embraced and twirled his lady around in happiness. He slid her down his torso. Oh my, and when she landed on terra firma, he gave her a chaste kiss for all to witness. Have we been party to redemption by a virtuous kiss from a rake who proudly renounces the title? What has our London society come to? Lest, we forget, he also gifted the fabled twin ducal ring whose sentiment consists of two bands when intertwined with each other, signify he is only half a man without her. How divinely romantic. L’amore romantique.

  ****

  Gordon re-entered the cottage after he delivered his mother to the villa. It was blissful, because he didn’t press Cassandra for bed sport, much as she might have welcomed it.

  She would remember his words forever. “I love you, Cassandra. Love is a two-sided coin, and when you come to me and establish yourself as my wife again, I would be honored to make ardent love to you. I would do so right now, but it would be just a release of a need.” He skimmed the back of his hand across her cheek. The look on his face pulled at her heartstrings.

  His words were magic to her ears. “My intentions are pure. It is more than animalistic want. Anyone can mate physically. I want us to experience the euphoria of soul mates not only for the moment or tomorrow, but forever.”

  He cupped her face with both hands. “Come back to me, Cassandra.”

  A wicked grin graced his face. He stepped forward to her. “Although, I’m persuaded to leave something to tempt you.”

  She felt a chill when Gordon removed her cape, threw it aside, picked her up and cradled her in his arms, as he took her to the small bedroom and deposited her to a vertical stance.

  “Please stand for me?” he asked, an utterance he’d never used. She was at the foot of the bed. The gentleness of his hands soothed her as his kisses thrilled her. Her clothing fell to the floor. With a lover’s gesture, her stockings and slippers were whisked off. She accepted his hand as she was led to the bed where he deposited her.

  Fully clothed himself, his kisses scorched as he laved at every inch of her soft flesh. When his tongue followed the path up and down each thigh, she felt an inexorable desire to have him enter her. And when his hand lingered to the place their child resided, he said to her, “I long to hear my child’s heartbeat,” it was all she could do to contain the glory of the moment.

  His touch on her body was magical as his fingers caressed the path up to her breasts. “Are they sore? May I worship them?”

  She nodded and thought she’d die if he didn’t. Flushed, anxious, ready for him, she wanted him to stay and bed her.

  With a kiss that was not so chaste, he devoured her lips when she opened to him. Evident was the arousal in his tight silk breeches.

  “I want you so much, Cassandra, but there is a need to show you I’ve never thought to use you. Come back to me as my wife, and we will be glorious together in ways you could never imagine.”

  He turned to her. “Please don’t let me wait too long. My manhood demands gratification, but my heart will wait until you are ready. Good night, my love.” He stood and covered her with a light wool blanket. Gordon walked out the door, closed it quietly.

  Three o’clock in the morning and Cassandra experienced a strange sensation of loss. He’d said he wanted her, loved her, that he was her future.

  In fatigue, she thought to close her eyes for a moment and wanted to remember all his words, but sleep overtook her and she rested soundly.

  Now wide-awake at the sun’s light, she jumped out of bed, sat on the edge, waited to quell any morning sickness. To her relief, there was none. Her mind planned to move back that afternoon. The children would be in the park with their nanny, and she would instruct the staff to remove all their possessions. She danced on air with her joy and dressed in a simple but appropriate frock and wore her laced boots.

  Because the duke and Cassandra arrived early in the wee hours, the children and nanny slept at the main house, and didn’t disturb her rest. The cottage’s quiet atmosphere no longer suited her. She took a cloth bag she’d prepared the day before, threw on her cape, and almost ran the distance to the villa. She came through the beach entrance to the kitchen out of breath, where she was greeted warmly.

  Cassandra smiled shyly and greeted the Cook. “Is Mother Madelaine awake? I should like to speak with her.”

  “Yes, your Grace, she is.” There were giggles amid bowed heads. “The duke is in his chamber upstairs.”

  There was an uncomfortable moment.

  “Dear Duchess, may we congratulate you on your good news?” asked Cook. “It will be an excitement for all of us.”

  Cassandra’s mouth was agape. “How did you know?” she a
sked in complete innocence.

  “It is in the Tattler Tales, your Grace. The pressman never lies.”

  “Oh.” She raised her fingers to her mouth. “They found out already?”

  Cook nodded and handed her the paper.

  Cassandra read the article and smiled. “True, they didn’t print anything false about me or my husband.” She walked around the large wooden table. “While I was away, I baked this loaf of cinnamon bread. I’d like to surprise his Grace with gooseberry preserves. Would you kindly prepare a plate while I wait?”

  Cook nodded and rustled away to get the preserves he most favored. When she returned, there was the fresh baked bread heaped with preserves and two glasses of cold milk.

  “Thank you.” She left the kitchen headed toward the upstairs chamber.

  The sound of her boots on the inlaid floor should have warned of her presence. She knocked. There was no answer. She knocked a second time, harder, and still no answer. Perhaps he left his room?

  About to leave, she thought she heard a groan. She placed the tray on an outer table and opened the door. The sight of him shocked her. Cassandra ran to him and touched his head. She withdrew it quickly from his hot face. He was naked on wet soaked sheets, his body sweated profusely and he flailed his arms.

  For a moment, she was helpless. She ran to the door and screamed for Chester. “Come quickly. It’s urgent. Summon the physician. Attend me. Now! Hurry, Chester.”

  The majordomo took to the steps with another male servant who followed. He went into the chamber after Cassandra, and instructed the man to wait outside the door.

  He opened the door and spoke to the servant who scurried away with his instructions. He returned to the duke’s chamber. “He’s in the middle of a recurrent attack of malaria, Duchess. We will have to keep him cool. I will summon for water from the well, wet and dry cloths. Well water would be cooler and will help subside his fever.” He went to the duke and touched his clammy hand. “I’ve summoned two grooms, my lady, who will fan him constantly. These are specially made bamboo fans kept for this purpose while we bathe him with cool water.”