Daring Deeds 0f A Forbidden Duchess (Steamy Historical Regency Romance)

by Violet Hamers

  I would love for the Duke to see me in that gown. He wouldn’t be able to take his eyes off me.

  “Lady Pemperton, may I ask you something?” Isabel said, turning to her.

  The Marchioness was in the process of sipping her cooling tea. She quickly set it down and turned to Isabel, eyes glittering. Her clear enthusiasm for Isabel’s debut grew stronger and stronger as the days went by, which made Isabel try harder to hide her melancholy. She didn’t want to put a damper on the other lady’s spirits.

  “Yes, of course, dear. You can ask me anything.”

  “When will the Duke arrive to assist with my debut?”

  “The Duke?” Lady Pemperton’s perfect, dark brows dipped into a frown as she thought. “In his last letter, he informed me that he would be here the day before the debut ball.”

  “The day before?” Isabel exclaimed. “But the ball is only a few days from now!”

  “That should give you your answer, then. Is there something wrong?”

  Isabel shook her head, her mind whirring madly.

  No, nothing’s wrong. Only that I’m so excited to see him that I don’t know if I’m even prepared to.

  After their last parting, she wasn’t so sure about anything regarding the Duke. During their time together, she had truly believed he had been falling in love with her, the same way she had been falling for him. It was evident in the way he spoke to her, the way he looked at her, the way he requested her presence.

  But here she was, in London to make her debut. If he truly cared for her the way she thought, she wouldn’t be here. She would still be in Brighton, with a marriage proposal and a pending wedding ceremony to become the next Duchess of Ventbury. She would be with him, walking in the gardens, having their usual discussions, eating together.

  I would have the courage to kiss him the way I want to. I would have the courage to tell him the things I truly feel without worry.

  Yet, that wasn’t her reality. Her reality was in this moment, preparing to impress a bunch of lords and ladies she didn’t know in hopes of securing a good husband.

  “Miss Isabel, are you listening to me?” Lady Pemperton said, cutting into her thoughts.

  Isabel nodded, picking up her own teacup. “Of course, My Lady.”

  “Good. Now, since the ball is drawing so near, there are some things you’ll need to learn.”

  “Things like what?”

  “Like how to attract the best suitor, of course,” Lady Pemperton said with a wink, which made Isabel flush.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean,” she said on a sigh, turning to face Isabel fully. “There are certain things you can do and say that will make the lords of the ball more interested in you. You’re already lucky enough to be born with such wonderful looks, my dear, but that won’t get you as far as you need to be. You need to have the personality to match.”

  Before Isabel could get a word in, the Marchioness went on, “And I’m not saying you’re boring, dear. Far from. In fact, I find you absolutely endearing. But I do have a few tips for you.”

  Isabel’s intrigue heightened. Lady Pemperton was a beautiful lady and she often told Isabel how easily she had secured the Marquess during her first London Season. According to the Marchioness, Lord Pemperton was quite the catch in his younger days and had many ladies vying for his attention. But she never actually detailed just how she managed to snag him.

  “It’s simple, really,” Lady Pemperton went on. “All you have to do is look him directly in the eye when you speak to him.”

  Isabel frowned. That wasn’t what she was expecting to hear. “Pardon me?”

  “Sounds a little too simple, doesn’t it?” Lady Pemperton chuckled. “Believe me, dear, it isn’t. Ladies these days place too much emphasis on demureness, especially during their first Season. They try too hard to be the innocent and perfect lady. But, I’ve found that when you look a gentleman directly in the eyes when you’re speaking to them, they get a sense of strength from you. Perhaps a smidgen of defiance. And, whether they care to admit it or not, they love that.”

  “Oh, my.” Isabel never thought of that. “Is there anything else?”

  “Yes, of course,” Lady Pemperton said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “If there is a question you don’t want to answer, be mysterious. Use your fan if you have to. Not only does it draw their attention but you get away from having to say anything you don’t want to. All right?”

  Isabel could use all this on the Duke when he came back! The excitement that should have filled her at the thought of the upcoming ball now consumed her when she imagined the Duke walking through those doors. He would see her in her new gown, and when she used these tactics on him, perhaps he would be more drawn to her than he was previously.

  Her heart fluttered at the thought of his deep, chestnut eyes, filling with passion. She couldn’t wait to look deep into those eyes again.

  Lady Pemperton went on and on for a while, Isabel absorbing everything she said. They were small little bits of advice, things that Isabel wouldn’t have even thought of, but she couldn’t deny would give her a certain edge she didn’t have before.

  She wondered if that that was the reason the Duke wasn’t attracted to her. Perhaps she truly was a lot like the innocent and demure ladies Lady Pemperton spoke about. If that was the reason the Duke could allow her to leave so easily without looking back, then she was sure to correct that when next she saw him.

  Chapter Twelve

  David tried not to fiddle with his thumbs. He kept his hands before him, his eyes on the curtain shielding the carriage window because his mind was so far away that he didn’t even notice it was drawn. It came as no surprise to him that he was thinking about Miss Isabel. She consumed his every thought while he was away, and now that he was on his way back, it seemed it only grew in intensity.

  He would finally see her again after a month of being apart. Those weeks felt like years but now that the time was here, now that he was finally nearing London, he couldn’t stop thinking that maybe he wasn’t ready to see her again.

  Oh, but I so badly want to see her again. If only just to see that she’s been all right. I don’t have to do anything else as her guardian.

  As her guardian. As her guardian. As her guardian. I’m growing sick of that.

  But he allowed it to fuel him. He allowed it to keep his thoughts away from improper areas, thinking about Miss Isabel in ways he knew that he shouldn’t. He kept reminding himself that he was going to London to assist with her debut, to aid in his ultimate goal of helping her find a husband.

  It wasn’t working very well, but at least he tried.

  Now the carriage wasn’t too far from the townhouse in London, so David mapped out a plan in his head. He didn’t trust himself not to stick to Miss Isabel’s side the moment he saw her, and he knew he couldn’t allow that to happen. So, when he arrived he would pay his respects to her and the Marquess and Marchioness, then once he knew everything was in order, he would retreat to his study.

  I’ll simply fall back into the practice I was in before I got to know Miss Isabel. It shouldn’t be hard and it should help somewhat.

  He kept telling himself that, though he knew deep down it would never work. As the carriage pulled up to the townhouse where he knew she was waiting, his heart thudded in his chest with anticipation. As he continued up the steps toward the entrance, James following behind, he was well aware that the moment he laid eyes on her, all sane thoughts would fly out his mind.

  It was so all along, so why will this time be any different?

  Crossed between longing and apprehension, he entered the townhouse. He was relieved to find that she wasn’t waiting for him the moment he walked in, though his heart sank a little with contrasting disappointment.

  “Miss Isabel, the Marquess, and the Marchioness are waiting in the drawing room, Your Grace,” said the butler, standing to the side.

  David barely remembered to give him a thankful n
od before he made his way there. He tucked his fingers into a fist, his apprehension preceding him.

  The moment he entered the room, the air shifted around him. He felt as if he had been transported to another place, another time. He was stuck in that limbo for a brief moment, seeing Miss Isabel and her alone. The way her long hair fell down both sides of her face, her vibrant eyes appraising him as he came closer on leaden feet. He hadn’t forgotten this face. He thought about her every moment they were apart. But now, as he drank her in, he realized that his mind had failed to realize the pure beauty she was in person.

  Miss Isabel rose when he entered, a soft smile gracing her lips. Somehow, that gave him the strength to draw nearer. When they parted, she had been distant, upset almost. But that looked to be put aside right now, since her eyes lit up the closer he came.

  “Your Grace,” she breathed, curtsying, and David let the sound of her voice wash over him. He didn’t want to make it look too obvious. He straightened his spine, allowing the mask to fall over his face.

  “Miss Isabel,” he greeted, not as gruffly as he hoped he would be. “You’re looking well.”

  “And so are you, Your Grace,” she said. “Why don’t you have a seat and rest while tea is fetched for us?”

  She gestured to a seat to the left of her, leaving him to sit between her and Lady Pemperton—who David was yet to even look at. Without waiting for his response, Miss Isabel reclaimed her seat, smoothing down her skirt.

  David lowered himself into the chair, frowning just a bit.

  There is something… different about her. She seems… more confident?

  “How was your trip, Your Grace?” she asked, cutting into his thoughts.

  He glanced at Lady Pemperton, who offered him a little smile, holding a teacup to her face. It effectively shielded most of her expression, which David had a feeling was her aim. Lord Pemperton stood by the window, holding a glass in his hand. He gave David a warm smile as greeting, content, it seemed, to remain silent.

  “It was exactly how I thought it would be, Miss Isabel,” he said. “Long and boring and I was dying to come back home.”

  “But is not the manor in Brighton your true home, Your Grace?” she asked lightly. “That is where you spent your childhood, after all.”

  David blinked. She held his gaze, waiting expectantly for his response.

  I can’t possibly tell her that wherever she is now feels like home to me, can I?

  “Well, neither is France. And how have you been, Miss Isabel? Lord and Lady Pemperton?”

  Miss Isabel was the one who spoke. She picked up her teacup and took a sip before she continued, “Preparations for the debut have been going well. As you know, it is to be held tomorrow but I do think I am prepared for it.”

  Ah, yes. Her debut.

  He hadn’t forgotten about it, but he had tried his best not to think about it. He knew it had to be done but every inch of him wanted to cancel it at the very last minute.

  Miss Isabel wasn’t looking at him while she sipped her tea. She seemed more laidback than usual, more at ease. Not quite like the Miss Isabel he knew before.

  David looked away from her, annoyed at himself for his intense attraction. At this rate, he was bound to show these two ladies just how much he felt for his ward, which was the last thing he wanted to do.

  “Yes, the ball,” he said. “That is good.”

  He couldn’t think of another thing to say. His mind wasn’t even present. It was focusing solely on the way she smelled, the tantalizing sweet scene that perfumed the air. It was mesmerizing, almost addicting, and David found his eyes drawn to her once more.

  She was looking directly at him. There was no blush, no furtive glances. She wasn’t the Miss Isabel he knew a month ago. Somehow, over the course of those few weeks, she had changed and evolved to this mature lady sitting next to him.

  But her beauty hadn’t dimmed in the slightest. If anything, she only grew more gorgeous during their time apart. Even with her hair blanketing the sides of her face, David caught sight of her beautiful, long neck and in an attempt not to be rude and stare, he looked at her neck instead.

  It would be lovely to rain kisses down that beautiful neck of hers. To take her hand in mine and pull her body close. I want to bring those kisses up to her lips, then slowly go back down…lower and lower…

  He whipped his head toward the door, banishing the thoughts.

  Goodness, not even trying not to stare at something other than her neck works to keep the lustful thoughts at bay.

  “Your Grace?”

  “Forgive me, Ladies,” David said, rising stiffly. He looked at Lady Pemperton, because at least that was somewhat safe. She looked back at him with brows raised in expectancy. “After the ride here, I am terribly worn, so I’ll be retreating to my room.”

  “Of course, Your Grace,” said Lady Pemperton. “I can’t imagine travelling all the way from France has left you feeling energized at all. By all means. You’ll have to feel well rested for Miss Isabel’s debut ball tomorrow, in any matter.”

  He nodded gratefully and because he knew it would be rude to do otherwise, he bid Miss Isabel a farewell nod as well. She was frowning at him but he didn’t stick around to see if she would say anything.

  That’s right. Tomorrow is her debut ball. How can I have those thoughts when she’s slated to find a husband?

  The guilt that consumed him raged war with his desire to do what he wanted. He wanted to have Miss Isabel for his own. He wanted to laugh in the face of his responsibilities and do what his heart—and the other more ravenous parts of his body—wanted him to do.

  As he walked away, he swallowed the desire and let the guilt overwhelm him.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The night of the ball came much too quickly for Isabel’s liking. After the Duke’s arrival the previous day, she shamefully spent most of her time trying to get his attention again. She would wander past his study, talking loudly to Elisa in the hopes that he would hear her and invite her inside for a chat. And when that failed, she spoke a lot during dinner, using many of the tips Lady Pemperton told her, hoping it would work on him.

  It didn’t. The Duke seemed to be immune to her charms. And to make matters worse, he didn’t even speak to her the way he used to, but with a polite distance that hadn’t been there before.

  Isabel didn’t want to admit to anyone but herself just how deeply her disappointment ran. She had soaked up everything Lady Pemperton had to say about seducing the best suitor, hoping that she could use it on the Duke, but it was all for naught. He was unaffected by it all, unaffected by her presence, it seemed.

  “Is something the matter, Miss Isabel?” Elisa said as she fitted her into her gown. “You have been sighing for a while now.”

  “Have I?” Now that she knew the Duke was somewhere near, she could hardly think straight. “I’m just a little nervous about tonight.”

  “You needn’t be, Miss,” Elisa told her calmly. “You are a charming and beautiful young lady. You’ll have every gentleman who crosses your path in the palm of your hands.”

  Except the one gentleman that I actually want.

  She resisted the urge to sigh again, not wanting to worry Elisa. At least tonight, the Duke would get to see her in her gown. She’d been waiting for that moment the instant she saw it and she hoped she was as much a vision in it to him as she was to everyone else.

  And I should save a dance for him. Perhaps if I get him alone, or as alone as I can be surrounded by other dancing people, we’ll really get to talk.

  “You look absolutely stunning, Miss Isabel,” Elisa said and she offered Isabel one of her rare smiles.

  Isabel couldn’t help smiling in return. “Thank you, Elisa,” she said, lifting up her skirts as she made her way to the door.

  Her heart began to thump painfully. The Duke should be waiting downstairs for her, before it was time to load into the carriage. He would see her in the gown for the first time.

 
Maybe, just maybe, he’ll see me and decide he wants me for himself.

  She had to keep herself from hurrying down the hallways. Elisa would know something was off with her and she had taken great care to hide her still growing feelings for the Duke from everyone. She didn’t want their pity, nor their disapproval. She had more of that herself.

  Before she arrived at the top of the staircase, she heard a commotion. She hurried closer to see James, the Duke’s valet, rushing toward the door with a travel case in either hand.

  “What’s happening?” she asked Elisa, even though she knew the other woman had as much information as she did.