She thought of her parents, what she remembered about them. Though she had been young when they died, she never forgot seeing them together—happy and blatantly in love. She had grown up with the same idea of love, wanting to be able to spend the rest of her days with someone who shared her soul the way she suspected it had been for her parents. The way she believed it was for Lord and Lady Pemperton.
Perhaps that wouldn’t be her fate. Perhaps she would be content with the life she had but would never truly be happy.
Fate is a cruel mistress.
Isabel didn’t know how long she sat there simply staring, coming to terms with everything that had just transpired. The memory of the way the Duke kissed her last night rang in her head alongside the words she’d just heard him say. So many emotions swirled in her but she focused on one: acceptance.
If this was what the Duke thought was best for both of them, then she could do nothing but agree.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
It didn’t last long.
Isabel had convinced herself that she and the Duke were not meant to be. Since he was so hell-bent on staying away from her, Isabel believed that there was nothing more she could do but to move on. She had convinced herself of that and had nearly come to terms with the idea.
That was, until night fell.
She sat upright in bed. Elisa had bid her goodnight not too long ago but she knew that a few servants would still be up and about. Even so, Isabel couldn’t stop thinking about the Duke and how much she wanted to see him.
She knew that she shouldn’t and it was why she was still sitting in bed, trying to resist the urge to seek him out like she did earlier today.
Then why do I want to see him so badly? Haven’t I learned my lesson?
Clearly she hadn’t since she was already getting out of bed. She was very much aware of the fact that she was in her nightgown, but it wouldn’t be the first time the Duke would see her dressed in so little. Her cheeks warmed at the memory of that night in the hallway, the first night she had spent as a betrothed lady.
She peeked her head outside and when she noted that there was no one around, she slipped out. She held her head straight and her shoulders back as she made her way to the Duke’s office, all the while keeping an eye and ear out for anyone who may happen upon her. She tried thinking of an excuse as to why she was wandering around the hallways when she should be asleep.
Thankfully, she encountered no one on her way to his office and when she looked under the door, she saw a slight golden light shining from the other side.
Without stopping to rethink what she was doing, she knocked on the door. She waited those tense moments biting her lip, resisting the urge to press her ear to the door to hear if he was approaching.
When the door opened, she jumped a little. She quickly put her hands behind her to hide her nervousness and looked up at the Duke.
He looked even more chiseled with the light shining from behind him. She felt small and fragile and even though he didn’t greet her with a smile or a sliver of warmth, Isabel felt her body grow hot.
“Miss Isabel,” he said gruffly. “What are you doing here?”
She said the first thing that came to her mind. “I couldn’t sleep.”
He stared down at her for a few seconds and Isabel was expecting him to turn her away. But then he said, “Would you like for us to go the parlor then?”
“That’s quite all right,” she said with a shake of her head, masking the excitement that sprouted in her. “We can stay here.”
He nodded and then stepped away, allowing her to enter. She felt an odd sensation come over her as she went inside. After hearing what the Duke said, she hadn’t expected for him to accept her into the office so readily.
She went straight for the chair across from his desk and watched him as he made his way toward the drinks tray. “You should have a drink,” he said. “That should help relax your thoughts a little bit.”
“What makes you think I have pressing thoughts?”
“Why else wouldn’t you be able to sleep?”
Because I can’t stop thinking about you. Because I can’t stop thinking about the things you did to me in the hallway that night. Because I love you and I want to tell you.
“A drink would be lovely,” she said and watched as he went about pouring it. She took care to look away before he turned to face her again, both hands holding a glass of wine. The Duke offered her the glass and then made his way over to his side of the desk.
She didn’t like the distance that was between them but she wasn’t about to complain. She was happy she had even made it this far.
“Why are you working so late, Your Grace?” she said, breaking the silence.
“I always work this late,” he responded. “Because there is always work that needs to be done.”
“You are quite a dedicated man.”
“Yes, I take my responsibilities very seriously.”
Isabel took a sip of her wine, ignoring how literal the statement felt in her situation. “You should take some time to rest, though, Your Grace. I don’t think you have done anything entertaining since arriving in London.”
“I did attend the ball at Pemperton Manor.”
“That you did. But that’s hardly enough for one gentleman to fully relax. What about other activities?”
“Such as?”
Isabel shrugged a shoulder. “I’ve heard of gentlemen’s clubs. Don’t you want to attend one of those?”
The Duke rose. Isabel’s heart thudded for a moment, not knowing what he was about to do, fearing that he would throw her out for wasting his time. But he only came around the desk and leaned against it, much closer to her than he had been before. All she had to do was reach out and she would touch his trousers.
“I don’t care for any of those things.”
“So you do nothing to unwind, then?” she asked. “You simply work day in and day out?”
The Duke shrugged and held up his glass. “A drink is all I need before I head back to work again.”
She shook her head, smiling a little. Feeling bold all of a sudden, Isabel rose. She was thinking of a good way to tell him her feelings but for now, she couldn’t find the right opening. “Your commitment is admirable, Your Grace.”
He only nodded, taking another sip of his wine. But he didn’t take his eyes off her for a single second.
In return, Isabel didn’t look away from him either. She felt the tension in the air, one she suddenly realized was purely erotic. All of a sudden, she forgot about her intentions to admit her feelings. She wanted to feel his lips on hers, his hands beneath her gown.
She wondered if it would be too bold to act first. She desperately wanted to and her longing was growing to such an extent that she nearly did. But the Duke beat her to it.
He dropped his glass just as she dropped hers and he lunged for her. Their bodies felt against each other, their tongues battling as the kiss deepened. Her hands were in his hair, his were in hers.
Isabel felt like she could not get close enough. She’d never felt such wild abandon of passion before, such intensity that she thought she’d go crazy if she didn’t have every inch of him now. The feeling terrified her but she gave into it wholeheartedly, wanting to have the man beneath the mask.
The Duke lifted her off the ground. Isabel wrapped her arms around his neck, still kissing him passionately as he turned around and lowered her down onto the desk. He leaned into her and she felt the telltale signs of his arousal against her leg.
She thought it would have scared her but it only spurred her on even more. It only made the burning in the pit of her stomach grow out of control, consuming her every thought until she no longer felt like herself. With the way he was kissing her, his hands running up and down her body, she felt like a desired woman.
When he lowered his hand down to meet the wetness between her legs, Isabel was shocked. But she was eager to have him feel that intimate area, needing him to touch her even
more. He didn’t break the kiss even as his fingers perused her inner thigh, making her shudder.
Finally, she felt his thumb brush against her and she gasped, her nails digging into his back. He held her close as she gasped again when he did it once more. Again and again, he kept brushing his thumb against her, the movement quick but exploding before he did something she definitely didn’t expect.
He moved quicker, pressing harder, and the feeling increased tenfold. Now, she couldn’t focus on kissing him any longer. She could only give into the sensations coursing throughout her body as his fingers moved deftly against her.
She pressed her hands against the top of the desk, leaning back. She wanted to look him in the eyes but she could hardly keep hers open, noticing a rising pressure within her that felt completely foreign.
But, as if he could sense it, he went faster and faster until the pressure disappeared and Isabel could no longer feel anything around her. She threw her head back, taking care not to scream out the way she wanted to. Then the room disappeared and she could only wait until she came back into reality.
“Oh, goodness…” she gasped once she came back to herself.
The Duke pulled away from her and rested both hands on the desk, hanging his head. Isabel quickly fixed her gown, frowning. She didn’t ask because she knew what was happening. Just as it had happened the last time and the time before that.
The Duke said nothing. Isabel watched as his fingers tensed against the wood. She watched him open his mouth, then close it again. He was obviously thinking of what he should say.
Isabel didn’t want to hear it. She didn’t need to. By now, she was well-versed on the rejections from the Duke and so she gathered herself together and silently made her way to the door on still shaking legs. She paused for a moment, hoping he would say something to stop her, but it was wishful thinking.
I can only blame myself.
She knew it was her fault. She knew the truth, had heard it come straight from his mouth, and still hadn’t heeded it. She only forged on, hoping that true love would prevail in the end, when it was clear it wasn’t meant to be.
This time, she did cry. On her way to her chambers, as she got into bed, she cried. Out of anger, out of shame, out of sadness.
And she vowed to herself that when she awoke the next morning, she would forget all about the Duke of Ventbury.
* * *
Lady Pemperton seemed to be more excited about the Opera than Isabel was and she spent many hours with her trying to pick the best gown to wear. They finally settled on a muted blue gown with black embroidery and a slightly dipping neckline. Lady Pemperton had said that the gown would serve to let the Count remember just who he was betrothed to.
Isabel didn’t care what she wore. She was more excited to attend the Opera than she was to impress the Count but she supposed the latter was a good benefit. It would be nice to hear him say how lovely she looked, especially seeing that there was a certain someone who had never said those words to her.
The Duke was in his study when it was time to leave for the Opera House. Isabel tried to put him in the back of her mind, to forget that he was even there now that she had Lord and Lady Pemperton in her midst, as well as the Count, but it was easier said than done. Not when she could still feel the taste of his brandy-covered lips.
“Fascinating,” Lord d’Ylles said once they were in the carriage on their way to the Opera.
Isabel smiled in response, knowing that whatever he was about to say next was going to help her forget about the one person she couldn’t get out of her mind. Hopefully. “What is, My Lord?”
“Every time I see you, you seem to get more and more radiant. The lovely glow of the moonlight on your skin is mesmerizing. And the shine of your eyes makes me warm inside.”
“Did you practice that while you were on your way?” Isabel asked, cocking her head to the side.
“I thought it was pretty poetic but now that I’ve said it out loud, I know how much like a fool I sound.”
“It was poetic,” Lady Pemperton said. “I can’t remember the last time I’ve heard someone say such nice things about me.”
Lord Pemperton opened his mouth to protest but Isabel came to his rescue. “Oh, come now, Lady Pemperton,” she said. “My Lord Pemperton always has something lovely to say about you and you know it.”
“Thank you, Miss Isabel,” Lord Pemperton said. “At least I have a witness to it all.”
Lady Pemperton only cocked her chin upwards in a playfully stubborn manner. The Count laughed. “It really inspires me to see a couple like you two, who have been together for so long,” he said to them both. “I only hope that it will be the same with the lady I marry.”
His eyes fell on Isabel when he said those words, his tone suggestive. Isabel hadn’t expected him to be so bold with his feelings—and their betrothal—so suddenly and she flushed. “I’m sure it will be, My Lord,” she said, ignoring the fact that she only said it because she knew she should.
Lord and Lady Pemperton, as if they had become the same person over the years, smiled at the same time. The Count’s eyes remained on her, filled with quiet happiness. She was smiling back at him, but his obvious glee was fast growing stifling.
Thankfully, the conversation didn’t center too much on them as they made their way to the Opera House. It flowed freely and easily, with much thanks to Lady Pemperton who had the uncanny ability to make sure that there was never a dip in the conversation. Isabel lost track of all the things they spoke about on their way.
The Opera House was fast filling with people when they arrived. The Count helped Isabel out of the carriage, staying close to her side as they made their way inside.
The moment they entered the tall, ornately furnished building and began making their way to their seats, Isabel relaxed. She had been tense thinking about the last time she was out in public, but she felt no eyes on her this time, even though there were many people about. Surely one or two of them might be staring, seeing that she was together with one of the most eligible bachelors in London, but there was no uneasy feeling crawling up her spine. She was simply excited to be here.
The theatre was grand. They were led to the box seats and the Count helped her to her chair. Isabel caught sight of the look Lady Pemperton gave her whenever the Count did something kind. It was clear to them both that he would be a doting husband and Lady Pemperton was obviously delighted in that fact.
Isabel liked it just as much. Anyone with eyes would be able to tell that the Count was enamored with her and it was a welcomed feeling. She liked to be doted on and being out with him now, she liked having him by her side.
But try as she might, she couldn’t ignore thoughts of the Duke. His image hovered in the back of her mind, constantly growing stronger whenever the Count looked at her, or said something charming. She couldn’t help comparing the two, no matter how much she tried not to.
Will the Count be as good a kisser as the Duke? Will he make my toes curl the same way?
As the room grew dim, anticipation hanging in the air while everyone was waiting for the performance to begin, she looked at him as discreetly as she could. The slope of his jaw, his prominent nose, his eyes alight with interest. He was not only a kind and attentive gentleman, but he was a handsome one, as well. She was lucky to have him.
So why don’t I feel like it?
She gently brought her eyes back to the stage, seeing nothing.
I should just forget about him! It’s over now!
The first part of the performance passed without her noticing and when the light turns back on, she blinked in shock. The Count leaned a little closer to her. “How do you like it so far?” he whispered to her.
Isabel took a few moments to smile, racking her brain for any bit of the performance she might have picked up to answer him in the right way. But she had been so deep in her thoughts that it was all a blur to her. “I’m enjoying it greatly, My Lord,” she said finally, when she didn’t think she cou
ld stall any longer.
“As am I. I’m quite happy I thought of this outing for us. Truly, I think it might be better simply because you’re here.”
This time, she didn’t have the strength to smile as brightly at his sweet words as she usually did. She tried to hide it by getting distracted by Lady Pemperton who shifted at his side.
Then, she said, “Please excuse me, My Lord.”
The Count leaned back in his seat and raised an encouraging hand. “Yes, of course, Miss Isabel. Hurry back before the interval is over.”
She nodded at him, attempting to smile and failing all over again. Without stopping, she rose and made her way to the exit as normally as she could.
Daring Deeds 0f A Forbidden Duchess (Steamy Historical Regency Romance) Page 18
