The clatter of horse hooves turned him back to the window. A horseman entered his line of sight, ambling away from the abbey. Although the man’s back was to Leopold, the fine horse, and the way he sat in the saddle, hinted that the gentleman held considerable consequence in society. That he’d been born in the saddle as every lord was.
Unease stirred in Leopold’s belly. Although he was here too, the hour was really too early for proper social calls. Any man leaving the abbey at this hour would be assumed to be leaving after a long night. And that night might have been spent in the duchess’ bed. No wonder the gossips speculated about her love life. Leopold should leave. He should never have come back.
Wilcox entered the drawing room as he rushed toward the door. “The duchess will see you now, Mr. Randall. Please come this way.”
He groaned. Did he really want to see her after she’d entertained a man in her bed? Who the hell was he kidding? He was a fool. Of course he did. Leopold hurried after the retreating butler, eager to get today over with and be on his way.
Wilcox stopped and turned around to face Leopold. “I fear I should warn you that the duchess is out of sorts this morning. She’s had an unexpected early visitor and is, even now, greatly distressed by the conversation. It is my hope that she will be settled again soon.” The butler looked about to say more, but suddenly closed his mouth.
Since servants rarely involved themselves so closely in their masters’ lives, Leopold was surprised by Wilcox’s candor. However, the intelligence that Her Grace’s visitor was unexpected loosened the tension gripping him. “Of course, Wilcox, I shall attempt to distract her from her troubles.”
Wilcox grinned. “You do that very well indeed, sir.”
To his surprise, Leopold was shown to the ducal study—the beating heart of any estate. The duchess waited on the far side of the room. But between them lay a disaster of mammoth proportions. Papers littered every surface; piles had built up beneath chairs and toppled over. It appeared disorder stretched even to the interior of the abbey. Where the hell was the steward in all this? If he’d worked for Leopold, he have rung a peal over his head and dismissed him.
“Good morning, Your Grace.” Leopold bowed respectfully, determined to remember his place this time. What happened here was none of his business, except to find what he searched for. He had to remember that when dealing with the duchess.
No more touching, no more kissing.
No more thinking about satisfying physical needs.
“Mr. Randall, so good of you to call on us again.” The duchess didn’t offer a smile, and her clipped words made Leopold distinctly uneasy. Had she changed her mind about helping him?
Since the duchess remained on her feet, Leopold had no choice but to do the same. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, wondering what to say next.
The duchess cleared her throat a few times before she spoke again. “It has occurred to me that we might be able to help each other, Mr. Randall.”
Her words stirred uneasily between them, and Leopold wondered what mess he’d unwittingly stepped into. “How so, Your Grace?”
The duchess rubbed her fingers across her brow. “As you might have noticed, I am woefully unsuited to managing the estate alone. At one time, I had assistance. My husband’s steward stayed a few months beyond his death, but I’ve had no luck finding a suitable replacement. Imagine my surprise when I stepped into this mess ten months ago. My brother, Lord Grayling, my son’s guardian, will not stir himself from his own estate to guide me. However, it occurred to me that you seem to grasp the essentials of managing this estate far better than myself, even after being away so long.”
Leopold stared. “Are you suggesting I enter into your service?” The request filled him with fury. Leopold set his hands to his hips and glared.
The duchess rubbed her brow again. “No. No. Of course I could not have you enter into my service. But I do need help.” Her arm waved over the paper-strewn desk. “I do not know where to start, or who to hire to fill the position. I’m making a mess of everything.”
Her obvious distress cooled Leopold’s anger quicker than a dunking in a cold stream. He took a step forward.
She covered her face with both hands and her shoulders shook with silent sobs. He didn’t understand what had brought on such a strong reaction to her difficulties, but he couldn’t help but be concerned. Yesterday she had seemed content. What had happened overnight while he’d been away? Although he’d promised moments ago not to touch her again, he crossed the room and set his hand to her shoulder. The duchess turned and burrowed blindly into his chest.
Astounded by a Duchess of Romsey seeking comfort from him, he wrapped his arms about the sobbing woman and then tightened his hold as she shuddered. Her hands clutched at his chest as she dragged in great gulps of air. Leopold smoothed his hands along her back, bumping over her spine, and the softer womanly curves he shouldn’t be thinking about.
Desire, urgent and insistent swept over him and he tightened his arms around the shaking woman. The duchess’ scent invaded his senses, pushing his caution aside. He wanted to bury his face into the curve of her neck to taste the sweet skin there. He wanted to mold her body with his hands until she moaned. He wanted far more than he could have.
When her sobbing passed, Leopold continued to hold her loosely against him. “What exactly do you need from me, Your Grace?”
The duchess stiffened, but didn’t pull away. She kept her head against his pounding heart. “I know you want to find your siblings and to do so you need to search the abbey for information. What I ask is that you help me sort through this disaster as you go. Perhaps you’d consent to stay here as well so you make better progress in your endeavors.”
Stay here?
Leopold gulped at the thought. He’d be able to search day and night. He could find his family far quicker than if he merely visited when allowed. But could he resist the temptation?
Leopold set the duchess away from him. She seemed as dazed as he by the loss of contact.
Could he trust himself not to be enticed by her?
Given she’d just been in his arms without a murmur of protest, Leopold had his doubts. “To help you return Romsey to order and employ a new steward?”
“Yes.” Her watery gaze fastened on his. “But Romsey Abbey is a large estate. With just Edward and me in residence, the place feels empty. I want to offer you the opportunity to make your home here and, once you find your brothers and sister, to bring them here, too. It would be nice to have family about the place, even for a short while.”
Any words he could have uttered lodged tight in his throat. He couldn’t speak to accept or refuse. Dear God, as a lad he’d dreamed of living within these walls. But it had been a boy’s foolish fantasy, a wish that had little chance of ever coming true.
Until now.
“I understand that my request may not be convenient, but the abbey is large enough that you need not fear for inviting your own acquaintances to call. The east wing is little used.”
Leopold nodded, noticing the way the duchess bit her lip after each statement and tried not to think of kissing her cares away. “It was empty in my youth, too. However, I would not like to cause the staff additional work. I would not require considerable space.”
The duchess’ chin lifted. “So you will stay?”
Leopold nodded, and then had the wind knocked out of him as the duchess jumped into his arms. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, Leopold.”
The duchess wound her arms about his neck tightly and hung with her feet dangling off the floor. He had little choice but to hold her close or else have them both topple over. Her lips pressed to his cheek and then the duchess kissed him full on the mouth. Startled, Leopold attempted to deny her again, but in opening his mouth to speak she invaded to deepen the kiss.
Lust flared at the touch of their tongues, obliterating his reason for maintaining the proper distance between them. He cupped her bottom, pulling her hips hard agains
t his. The duchess curled herself closer, fingers sliding into his hair as she devoured his mouth.
A storm of desire washed over Leopold at the duchess’ unbridled need. It matched his completely. He gentled her kisses when she became frantic. She followed his lead, rubbing herself against his body provocatively. He cradled her in his arms, stunned that he’d fallen under her spell again but unable to find his good sense. His heart swelled with longing as he heard her soft whimpers. They echoed in his head painfully, reminding him of another night so long ago.
Reluctantly, Leopold ended the kiss and buried his face in her neck, panting hard. He hadn’t expected this when he returned home. He hadn’t expected this irresistible passion to spring up between them. It couldn’t end well. It wouldn’t.
The duchess’ feet swung restlessly as her arms tightened about his shoulders. Her quick pants of desire stirred his lust to painful levels, yet she seemed in no hurry to leave his arms or continue what she’d started. Leopold gratefully held her close because, unfortunately, he had no idea what to say to her after this shocking lapse.
The duchess wriggled a little more and Leopold relaxed his grip. She slid down his body until her feet touched the floor, but she didn’t look up. She didn’t take her hands from him either.
After a moment, she patted his chest. “I’m very glad you’re staying.”
Despite the awkwardness of having kissed each other senseless just moments before, Leopold’s lips lifted in amusement. “I did think you somewhat pleased, Your Grace.”
At the formality of his words, she looked up. “Perhaps you should call me Mercy when we are alone. I should like that very much.”
Leopold blinked. So Mercy was her real name, after all? He’d thought it a cruel nickname the first time he’d heard of it. “I should not be so familiar, Your Grace.”
Mercy’s fingers stroked over the fine silk of his waistcoat, smoothing the fabric in an unsettling and affectionate way. “Well, given that I cannot seem to stop kissing you, I would not like to be Your Grace all the time. It seems absurd.”
She glanced up shyly, an impish grin lifting her lips at her wicked habit of kissing him. Leopold couldn’t help but smile in return. As he did, her small hands rose to cup his face, one finger dipping into his cursed dimples on each side of his mouth.
Leopold moved out of her reach and let his smile fade away.
“I think your dimples make you appear very handsome. Quite rakish.”
“I’m not a rake.” But he was a prime idiot for being here still.
“No, I know. Everyone tells me you are a good man. I thought that the moment we met. You have a face that inspires trust.”
Leopold turned to her, astonished by her candid observations. “Are you like this with all gentlemen who come to call?”
She leaned against the wall behind her. “What? Brazenly forward with my speech with no thought to my elevated rank. Of course I am. It sets my sister’s teeth on edge, but I will not lose all of myself to the duchy.”
“I was talking about the kissing.”
Mercy stilled, a frown marred her brow. “No. No. Only you have had to suffer the indignity of my scandalous advances. I don’t know how you do it.”
Only you. Leopold’s heart pounded at the thought. Yet he must not forget his place again.
She drew closer. Her hands skimmed over his arms lightly, and then rose to adjust his cravat. Her deep green eyes held his gaze and she extended her tongue to lick her kiss-swollen lips.
Leopold’s cock thickened.
“Do you know that I’ve never wanted another man to touch me, not since my husband died? Most men are so obvious about their ambition to bed me. I quite like watching your eyes darken with desire like that. It makes me feel all fluttery.”
Leopold dragged in another desperate lungful of air and kept his hands by his side, curled into the tails of his coat. He would not touch her again. He didn’t trust himself.
“But unlike most men, you have the restraint of ten.”
She rose on her toes, brushing her lips lightly over his. Leopold growled, pushed to the edge of endurance by her teasing, and captured her wandering hands. “Enough, Your Grace, I’m not your plaything.”
Mercy settled back to the ground with a huff. “I had not once considered you in those terms, Leopold. I just enjoy kissing you. But, as you wish. I will do my best to behave.”
What he wished was to bury his face between the firm swells of her breasts and taste her soft skin. Ruthlessly, Leopold held himself in place.
Mercy glanced at her wrists, and he released her.
“As I said ‘the restraint of ten men’.” She sighed a little wistfully, and stepped back a few paces. “Lady Venables is joining me this afternoon for luncheon. Would you care to join us on the terrace before you begin in here? It seems as if the day will be fair.”
Leopold shook his head, even though she couldn’t see him. “I believe I should get started in here immediately. There is a lot to be done I fear.”
Her green eyes met and held his a long moment. “That’s what I thought you’d say. I truly do appreciate any help you can spare for my son and me. But I also understand that your first concern is finding your family, and that you will likely leave the moment you discover their location.” She frowned. “Whenever that happens, I still want you to consider coming back here with them. If only so we may become acquainted. I’m sure we will all get along famously.”
Mercy opened the door, but looked back at him one last time. Her gaze skimmed him from head to toe and back again, a smile tugging at her lips. The effect on his body was immediate. He shifted uncomfortably under her scrutiny.
Her lips curled into another impish smile. “I’ll see you at supper. We dine at eight.”
The door shut with a soft click.
Leopold continued to stare at the polished wood. Dear God, the Duchess of Romsey appeared far more single-minded than her predecessors. Leopold very much feared he wouldn’t be able to resist her come-hither looks for long. And when he did fall at her feet, he’d be utterly ruined.
CHAPTER TEN
Once Mercy stepped into the relative privacy of the hall, she gave in to her emotions and let out a satisfied huff. Yes, she and Leopold Randall would get along famously once he got over his apparent shyness. Mercy just needed to be patient with him, and give him time to adjust to life at the abbey. She hoped he adjusted quickly because the man was truly delicious to look at and especially to taste.
Fate had returned him to the abbey for a reason and Mercy was only too happy to take advantage of it. She was supremely confident that her scandalous behavior was the result of finding a good man at long last. Why else would one glimpse of his dark eyes and taste of his firm lips make her act so shamelessly?
She had never behaved, or even felt, like this before. Well, perhaps once before.
Just once.
Mercy frowned at the similarities of her behavior then and now.
Both occasions were entirely different—and yet.
She shook her head to dispel the remembrance. All that mattered was that she felt alive again, no longer weighed down by responsibilities beyond her strength. Leopold’s steady presence would hopefully unravel the mess she’d created of the estate’s affairs and keep Lord Shaw at bay. Given his meticulous nature, she felt certain Leopold would find just the right man for the position of steward. Hopefully, Mercy would get along well enough with her new employee that the steward might stay to work for the duchy beyond Edwin reaching maturity.
Once the issue of running the estate was behind them, she planned to convince Leopold to stay here and make his home at the abbey. The very thought of accepting the man’s passionate kisses, along with his confidences, made her heart pound eagerly. Even now, she yearned to return to him and feel his hands over her body; even when her embraces were hesitantly returned.
Patience. She must be patient.
Resolute, Mercy twirled on the spot, enjoying the caress of h
er silk gown as it slid against her legs. This was likely another gown made from the fabric Leopold had sent to the estate. She imagined the caress as if it was his fingers brushing over her skin. The impatient throb at the junction of her thighs returned, as persistent as when she’d been kissing Leopold earlier. Heavens! She really shouldn’t imagine that just now. She’d never retain her mind.
When she was steady again, she looked up to find her butler watching her with an indulgent smile hovering on his lips. Embarrassed to be caught fantasizing, she hurried forward to meet with him.
His smile grew. “I take it the meeting with Mr. Randall was satisfactory to your needs, Your Grace?”
“Yes. Everything is perfect now.” She smoothed her hands over her gown, hoping that she wasn’t too rumpled from Leopold’s embrace. “Can you see to it that the blue suite is aired and made ready for occupation today? Mr. Randall has consented to stay here indefinitely.”
The butler’s eyes widened. “Indefinitely?” A frown grew on his brow. “That is an unexpected development.”
Mercy tapped her lips, ignoring Wilcox’s confusion. “Randall undoubtedly has possessions at his lodgings at the Vulture. Be sure to have them sent for, and see to it that any servants he may have are housed accordingly.”
Wilcox nodded slowly. “It will be done immediately, Your Grace.”
“Excellent.”
“I’ve heard he travels with only a valet attending him, Your Grace.”
Of course he’d have only one servant attending him. From what she could tell, Leopold had simple tastes and needs. “He will also be assisting me with some estate business. See to it that all his requests are obeyed as if they were my own, and be sure to see to his every comfort. His work will likely keep him busy—he was looking at the account papers when I left him a moment ago.”
Wilcox adjusted his cravat. “Of course. I shall inquire of his immediate needs and see to it that he is made very comfortable. Might I enquire also, Your Grace, what his routine will be with regard to His Grace? I know you are restrictive of whom may visit with the duke and when.”
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