Tristan grasped her shoulders. “Tessa, wake up.”
Her eyes opened. She looked dazed.
“Hurry, I’ve got to dress you.”
She gasped. “Where are we?”
“Gatewick Park.”
“Oh, my God.” She covered her mouth.
He lifted her in his arms and stood her before him. “We must be quick.” He pulled up her chemise and stays.
“Where is the busk?” She sounded frantic.
He found it on the seat, and with trembling hands, he tried repeatedly to insert it. At last, he managed to push it into place. He helped her with her sleeves and bodice. Then he turned her. She shook so hard, he was having trouble with the hooks. He forced himself to concentrate and managed the last one.
Voices sounded outside. In a panic, he grasped her cape and threw it over her shoulders. While she dealt with her bonnet and shoes, he tied his drawers, stuffed his shirt back into place, and fastened the buttons on his falls and waistcoat as fast as he could. She helped him into his coat.
He caught her face in his hands. “Meet me in my study later tonight. We will talk.”
An arrested expression crossed her face. “I do not think that is a good idea.”
“Tess, we’ve no time to argue now.”
She inhaled sharply. “I am deeply sorry for seducing you. It did not occur to me you would become so distraught.”
“What?” Had she forgotten to pack her brains?
“You must not worry, for I will still respect you tomorrow.” She paused. “But…”
Tristan gaped at her. He must have pleasured her senseless.
A knock sounded at the door. They both turned to stare at it. Then she glanced at him and said in a rush, “I hope you will forgive me, but I cannot make an honest man out of you.”
While Julianne played the pianoforte in the drawing room, Tessa pretended to be engrossed in the music, but she could not concentrate. The haze of Tristan’s lovemaking still held her in thrall. She remembered the words he’d spoken in his chocolate voice. “Like this?” She squeezed her thighs together, remembering the exquisite sensations.
Tessa must be careful not to reveal her overwhelming feelings, but her heart overflowed and his sensual spell still enveloped her like a thick fog. But she must not show it. The duchess sat on the opposite end of the sofa, and her observant eyes missed nothing. She’d certainly missed neither Tessa’s rumpled gown nor Tristan’s wrinkled cravat when they’d descended the carriage a mere three hours ago, though she’d said nothing. Tessa prayed she’d attributed it to a long day of travel.
Soon Tristan and Hawk would arrive after imbibing their after-dinner port. She must not look at Tristan, for she feared everything in her heart would show on her face. At dinner, she’d dared to peek at him, and he’d returned her gaze over his wineglass. His blue eyes had smoldered as he’d returned her gaze. And she’d remembered his erotic words. Come for me, darling Tessa.
She would not regret today. Not ever. She’d stolen one afternoon of lovemaking with Tristan, incomplete as it was. Even now, with his mother seated on the same sofa and his sister playing, she recalled his touches and kisses. The way he’d watched her beneath his sultry lashes as she’d pleasured him. And his hoarse cry as he’d throbbed in her hands. She’d wanted to weep when it was over, but he’d awakened and taken her lips in a fierce kiss, as if he were starving for her. He’d made her feel wanted, desired, and loved.
And if what she’d done was wrong, and she knew it was, no one but the two of them would ever know. He knew, as she knew, they could never be. Like the star-crossed Romeo and Juliet, they had only the one stolen time together. No matter how much she grieved for him afterward, she would not regret one single moment of their lovemaking.
But now they were in his home. The girls and their families would arrive day after tomorrow. She shoved the thought aside. Soon enough she would witness him court two others, but she would face that heartache only when she must. For right now, she would keep him in her heart as long as she could.
She ought to be ashamed, and part of her was, but another selfish part of her wasn’t sorry at all. Because she would carry the beautiful memory with her for the rest of her life and know that she’d given her heart for one day to the man she loved.
“Did my son speak to you?”
The duchess’s voice startled her. Oh, God, did she suspect? Had she simply waited for the right opportunity? But no, she could not know. Tessa prayed she did not know. “I beg your pardon?”
“Attend me, young lady. Did my son speak to you?”
“Your son spoke of many things,” she said. Oh, this was bad, very bad. She could hardly think because she was drunk with all her feelings for Tristan.
The duchess pointed her quizzing glass at Tessa. “I have noted the clever way you misdirect the conversation. I will not tolerate it.”
“I beg your pardon,” Tessa said. “It is an ingrained habit.” She wasn’t quite sure what the duchess meant, but Tessa thought she’d better act contrite. Not an easy feat for her.
“You have a nervous disposition, no doubt.” The duchess narrowed her eyes. “Do most people fall for your diversions?”
Tessa stilled, unsure what to say.
“Answer my question,” the duchess said.
“Um, most people do not seem to realize I have changed the subject.” She glanced at the drawing room door. Perhaps she could claim weariness and leave. But she wanted to see Tristan once more tonight. Longed to see his expression, perhaps even one more secret look from him, one that acknowledged he knew it was over, but would always remember her. A look that said you are special, nothing like all those other women before. Or the one he must marry.
“I suppose it proves useful in thorny situations,” the duchess said. Then she frowned. “Young woman, I am speaking to you.”
Tessa swerved her gaze to the duchess. “I beg your pardon?”
“You did not answer my question. Did my son speak to you about marriage?”
She swallowed. Did the duchess mean a marriage between Tristan and her? Excitement and fear for what could never be rose inside her. Oh, she’d thought of it today. Let herself pretend for a while. Imagined the two of them tangled in sheets. Imagined touching his hot skin while he devoured her mouth, her neck, her breasts.
The duchess peered at her. “Did he mention any particular gentlemen?”
Just like that, reality crashed into her. “No,” she said.
“Hmmph,” the duchess said, and returned her attention to her daughter.
Tessa gripped her hands. How could she even have allowed herself to imagine a future with him? She could never marry Tristan. Even if it weren’t for the girls and his noble intention to avoid scandal, she could not have him, even if he wanted to marry her. But she loved him.
She loved him.
Tristan didn’t love her. He’d told her over and over again he didn’t believe in love. For him, it was nothing but lust. She was no different from all those other women he’d taken to bed. No, she was worse. Because those women didn’t pretend to be respectable. Those women didn’t pretend he loved them. Those women weren’t masquerading as his matchmaker while dallying with him.
How would the duchess feel if she knew the woman she’d championed at the parlor game had lured her son into an illicit one-day liaison? Tessa tamped down the guilt rising in her because she wanted to cherish her feelings for him for this one night.
Footsteps clipped outside the drawing room door. Tessa’s heart squeezed as Tristan and Hawk strolled inside. When Tristan looked at her, she glanced at him from beneath her lashes, unable to resist.
Julianne stopped playing. Tessa broke eye contact with Tristan. Heavens, she must take herself in hand.
“Julianne, pray continue,” the duchess said. “You are in want of practice.” Once Julianne resumed playing, the duchess turned to her son. “Be seated.”
Hawk strolled over to the pianoforte. Tristan sat right besi
de Tessa on the sofa. Oh, no. He sat much too close. She inhaled his delicious scent, a scent like a magic vapor that made her crave him. He shifted just a little. She glanced at his long fingers on the sofa, now only inches away from her own, and remembered what he’d done to her with his hands.
A discordant note banged from the pianoforte. “Hawk, you rogue,” Julianne cried out, laughing.
Tessa dared to cast a sidelong look at Tristan.
He watched her with a determined expression. She glanced away. A horrible suspicion gripped her. Surely he did not mean to propose to her. No, he would not. He knew it would cause a horrific scandal. His mother did not suspect. If she had, she would have sent Tessa packing back to London. No one knew what they had done. Tristan had said he would not bring disgrace upon his family. Tessa breathed a sigh of relief. She was safe. And miserably, hopelessly in love with a man she could never hope to deserve.
“Tristan,” the duchess said.
Tessa nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of the duchess’s voice.
“What did you do to Miss Mansfield?” the duchess said. “Look at her. She is uncharacteristically meek. I can barely get a sensible word out of her. I told you to make yourself agreeable to her.”
His voice rumbled. “Was I not agreeable enough for your taste, Miss Mansfield?”
Oh, she wanted to box his ears for that double entendre. “You were… tolerable.”
“Perhaps it is your turn to be agreeable, Miss Mansfield,” he said.
She returned his gaze. What did he mean? Oh, my, did he think to continue their liaison? She could not. They could not. But a very naughty part of her imagined running through the grounds late at night, hand in hand, until they were well-hidden—and then he would swoop in for a lush, wet, and hungry kiss.
“Tristan,” the duchess said. “I understand you spoke to Miss Mansfield about marriage. Did you get her to agree?”
“Not yet.”
The duchess rapped her fan on the sofa. “If you do not apply yourself to finding her a husband, I will take over the matter.”
“I will speak to her again tomorrow after breakfast,” he said.
Tessa swerved her surprised gaze to him. He’d said he only wanted to warn her, but later he’d tried to convince her to marry. Perhaps he only wanted to discuss ways to divert his mother.
“Tristan,” the duchess said. “Make sure she says yes.”
Tristan gazed at Tessa with an expression so intent she could not breathe. “I will.”
The next morning, Tessa descended the stairs and walked toward the breakfast room with her head held high. After a great deal of thought, she’d concluded she’d misinterpreted Tristan’s meaning last evening. He would not risk scandal, not when both girls and their parents were expected to arrive tomorrow.
As for his mother’s misguided matchmaking attempts, Tessa planned to dispatch them at breakfast and be done with the matter forever.
When she entered the dining room, everyone else was already seated. Tristan held out a chair for her, and for one heady moment, she inhaled the scent of sandalwood soap. “I’ll fill a plate for you,” he said.
“Toast only.” She’d decided to start a slimming regimen and improve her figure. Of course she’d concocted the idea after imagining stepping naked out of a steamy bath only to find Tristan watching.
He set a brimming plate of eggs, sausages, and toast before her. She spread only a smear of strawberry preserves on the toast. After finishing half, she set it aside, sipped her tea, and smiled at the duchess, who sat at the end of the table.
The duchess set her cup down and regarded her son. “Here is evidence of a nervous disposition. She cannot eat.”
“On the contrary, Duchess, I am not nervous at all. After a refreshing night’s sleep, I am myself once again,” Tessa said. In truth, she’d lain awake for a long time, reliving Tristan’s lovemaking. “Now that I am no longer suffering from travel fatigue, I wish to thank you for your concern about my marital status.”
“We will discuss the matter after breakfast,” Tristan said.
“No, we will discuss it now,” Tessa said. “There is no reason for this meeting. I have made my arguments in the past and have no wish to repeat them. My mind is made up. I will not marry, and now we may discuss your courtship, which is the reason we are gathered here.”
Tristan set his cup down. “You have no one to protect you. You know Mortland is after your fortune.”
“My brawny footmen are more than equal to the task.” She thought better of mentioning Mortland’s invasion of her home two nights ago. If Tristan knew, he might confront Richard. And then Richard would confess everything—everything but his own perfidy. She could not bear for Tristan to know the truth about her.
The duchess cleared her throat. “Miss Mansfield, we are straying from the subject. You need a husband.”
“For what? I manage quite well on my own, and as I’ve said previously, I enjoy my independence.”
The duchess narrowed her eyes. “What of the estate? You must marry and have children so that one of them may inherit. Your uncle would want a family member to take over and ensure its prosperity.”
“Since there is no entailment, I may leave it to whomever I please. Meanwhile, I consult with my steward and employ hundreds of other servants to see to the operation of the estate.”
“Why should you bother with men’s work? And who takes care of managing the housekeeping affairs? Do you relegate those duties to a servant?” the duchess said.
Tessa smiled, knowing her next words would impress the duchess. “But, Your Grace, I manage both the estate affairs and the housekeeping duties at the same time. Name one man who can say as much.”
Silence ensued. Certain Tristan would glower because she’d topped him in duties, she cast a surreptitious glance at him.
He set his napkin on the table. “Are you finished with your breakfast, Miss Mansfield?”
“Indeed I am, but I will be happy to wait for everyone else.” She returned her attention to his mother and found the woman regarding her with amusement. “Duchess, how may I help you today?”
“Miss Mansfield, I am astonished by all of your accomplishments,” the duchess said. “May I enumerate them?”
Oh, dear, the duchess meant to put her in her place. “Your Grace, I did not mean—”
The duchess held up her hand. “No, let me speak without interruption. You don’t strike me as overly modest, but you are not conceited either. Indeed, you devote yourself unselfishly to the needs of others. You nursed your uncle for years, took in Lady Broughton when she had no one, and as if that weren’t enough, you’ve made matches for a number of poor wallflowers. You even took on the task of matchmaking for my son, a Herculean feat I couldn’t manage. To top it all off, you manage the estate responsibilities of a gentlemen and a lady. While you are not one of the common beauties, your voluptuous charms are far more alluring to gentlemen. In short, Miss Mansfield, you are perfect.”
“Duchess, I know my faults, and I most certainly did not mean—”
“Hush,” the duchess said. “Tristan, you should have no trouble at all finding her a husband. When the eligible gentlemen learn she is on the market, they will fall at her feet.”
Tessa stared at the duchess in horror. Oh, dear God. How had everything gone so wrong?
Hawk waggled his brows. “I say, Miss Mansfield, you are quite a catch.”
The duchess looked at her son. “I’ve changed my mind. Take your friend off the list of potential husbands.”
“What?” Hawk and Tessa said at the same time. She gaped at him. He gaped at her.
“The pair of you would spend all your time trying to outdo each other in some mischievous pursuit or another.” The duchess regarded her son again. “She’ll want some weak ninny she can twist round her little finger. Find her a man who will keep a firm rein, but won’t break her in the process.” She rose. “Tristan, get her agreement.”
They all stood.
Tessa gritted her teeth and rose slowly. “No. I will not stand for anyone telling me what to do. Out of necessity, I learned to manage my estate and all the other responsibilities. I am not like other women. My career is important to me. It brings me joy. I am independent, and I like it. I’m not some wilting flower waiting for a man to rescue me. I see those ladies who go from their fathers’ arms to their husbands’ arms. I understand that is what they know and need. But I am not like them, and I can’t change it. And I don’t need a husband to keep a firm rein over me. How insulting. I rein myself.”
Hawk grinned. “Duchess, will you reinstate me on the husband list? I find her passion most exciting.”
The duchess fingered her quizzing glass. “Yes, I begin to see the possibility. She could put a firm rein on you.”
“Stubble it,” Tristan said. Then he turned to Tessa.
His eyes held an odd expression, one she couldn’t interpret. “I wish to show you something.” He held out his arm.
She relented because they needed to speak privately. But as he led her away, a stinging sensation rippled over her hands. She’d seen the determined look in his eyes last night. No, she would not borrow trouble. He understood as she understood that yesterday was yesterday. And done.
Chapter Seventeen
Tessa’s stomach churned as he led her up one side of the U-shaped staircase. Neither of them spoke, but his severe expression spoke volumes. He’d probably wrestled with his conscience last night, but she would do her best to persuade him not to dwell on what could not be changed. They must put yesterday behind them. When he accepted the inevitable, and he would because he had no other choice, their forbidden friendship would end. An aching sadness spread through her veins, but she must not show her feelings.
When they reached the landing, he walked over to a winged statue in one of the enormous arched niches. “Eros,” he said. “The Greek god of lust and fertility.”
“Oh.” Heat flooded her face as she recalled their intimacies yesterday. She’d responded with abandon to his every touch, but she would not allow shame to mar her beautiful memory. Soon he would marry, and all his kisses and caresses would be for his wife. She could not bear to think of it, but an image of Georgette’s dimpled smile and slender figure rose in her mind. All her feeble hopes that he would always remember their lovemaking shriveled as she recalled his words. I want to want my wife. Sorrow engulfed her, for she knew he’d soon forget her when he took the exquisite Georgette to his bed.
How to Marry a Duke Page 23
