Blame It on Bath: The Truth About the Duke

by Caroline Linden

  “A maddening, delicious challenge,” he repeated. She could hear the amusement lurking under his tone and tugged against his restraining hand, furious that he was laughing at her. “What sort of woman would follow me across London in the middle of the night and propose marriage? She’s impressed by my heroism, and of course by my noble father—even though that same father caused the distress that made her think I would be desperate for a wealthy wife—but she doesn’t expect ours to be a real marriage. Still, should I refuse her offer, she lists marriage to Lucien Howe and death as her only alternatives. Curious, don’t you think?”

  “Very curious!” she snapped. “A clever man would have sensed a trap and fled for his life!”

  He chuckled, again preventing her from storming away. “Sadly for you, my darling, I’m not that clever. You laid your trap too well. But once I was caught, I did what any prisoner would do.”

  “Plot an escape?”

  He stepped up right behind her, so close she could feel the heat of him at her back. Kate bit the inside of her cheek to control the desire that flared helplessly inside her. “I decided to explore my cage,” he murmured, pulling off her hat and tossing it aside. “To test my warden.” He laid his cheek against her temple and drew his fingertips up her arm until she shivered. “To see if I might thaw my bride’s icy demeanor and discover her real reason for wedding me.”

  Kate held very, very still.

  “And she melted like caramel,” he went on in his dark whisper. “Hot and sweet enough to make me crave more, no matter how much I tasted. I gorged myself on her, not stopping to wonder why she had resisted such a decadent pleasure at the beginning.”

  “I thought I wouldn’t please you,” she said, her voice strained. “I hoped we could become . . . affectionate companions first . . . before you grew disappointed with me . . .”

  “Damn Howe. Your mother should be whipped for marrying you to him.”

  She shivered. “I told myself it would be all right if you didn’t love me, so long as you liked me—I wanted to please you—”

  “Damn your mother.” He sighed. “Surely you recognized just how much you pleased me.”

  Every inch of her body blushed. “Well—yes—you did appear satisfied—”

  “Appear?” He raised his head. “I appeared satisfied? Oh, darling, no wonder you left me. What a terrible husband I’ve been if you remain uncertain on that score.”

  “And I hoped that might lead to other, finer feelings,” she finished in desperation.

  For a moment he was quiet. Kate wished she could see his face, and then was glad she couldn’t. “No,” he said at last. “It didn’t, although I don’t wish to minimize the exceedingly fine feelings it did arouse. If that had been your only charm, though, it wouldn’t have led to any deeper feelings. No, I believe it was the first morning we lay in bed and laughed together that I fell in love with you.”

  She flinched. “You didn’t.”

  “Hush.” He squeezed her. “You claimed to fall in love while riding through the rain twelve years ago. At least I was in a warm, comfortable bed with a beautiful woman when I lost my heart.”

  Kate wrenched out of his arm. “Don’t say that—there’s no need to be cruel.”

  “How dare you insult my taste,” he said, as she began to walk away. Her flowers had scattered from the basket and lay wilting on the path, but she stepped on them blindly. “You’re not walking out on me a second time,” he warned her. She picked up her skirts and ran, and a moment later she heard his footsteps pounding after her.

  She jumped off the step at the end of the path and took off down the hill, across the lawn toward the maze. Her mother kept saying she would raze the unfashionable curiosity, but it couldn’t be seen from the house, so it still stood. Kate ran into the entrance and whisked around the first turn, vaguely remembering a shortcut to the center of the maze. She needed just a little space, a few minutes alone. Her heart had twisted so hard when Gerard called her beautiful, she’d almost fainted. How could he say that, when she knew very well it wasn’t true—when he had admitted it himself on their wedding day? He was offended that she had left him and was just trying to charm her back before people started to talk. But that he would lie to her about it . . . She couldn’t bear it.

  He crashed into the maze just as she made the second turn. “Kate,” he called. “I wasn’t being cruel.” He slowed to a walk down the entrance path. Kate crept quietly along her own path, wishing she could believe him.

  “Kate,” he called again, quieter this time, “I was an idiot, but I’m not a liar.” She could hear his steps, then a flash of blue caught her eye through the branches of the hedge. He was on the path parallel to hers. She froze in her tracks and waited even though he would have to go all the way to the end and make the second left before he could get to her. “I’ve never told a woman I loved her,” he said. “It took me too damned long to admit it, and now I have to bare my heart to a shrub. Can you even hear me?” Perversely Kate held her tongue. What would he do?

  After a moment he sighed. “Very well,” he muttered, and his voice boomed out, so loudly she jumped. “Katherine de Lacey, before God as my witness, I love you more than any man should ever love a woman.” A clutch of birds burst out of the hedges and flew away in a chorus of squawks. “I love the way your eyes snap when you’re irked at me. I love the way your nose wrinkles when you laugh at some nonsense I say. I love the way you ask old ladies for help finding a blackmailer. I love the way you look with your skirt up around your—Ah!”

  Kate shrieked as his hand thrust through the hedge and seized her wrist. She pulled, fighting down the hysterical laughter that threatened to burst forth as Gerard peered at her through the leaves and branches, a perplexed but determined expression on his face. “There you are,” he said.

  “And there you are,” she retorted, motioning to the hedge that divided them. “What did you plan to do next?”

  He glanced up, and from side to side, as if measuring the hedge. Then to her astonishment, he wedged his shoulder into the tangle of branches, and pushed and shoved his way right through, never once letting go of her.

  “You knocked a hole in the maze!” Kate gawked at the ragged, broken gap in the hedge.

  “It will grow back.” He brushed some leaves from his hair and fixed his gaze on her. “I didn’t dare loose my grip on you again. I presume you know the way through this?”

  “I—well, I think so—”

  “Which way to the center?” Keeping a firm grip on her hand, he started off.

  “The other way,” she said, hurrying behind him. Without a word he turned on his heel and strode through the maze, pulling her along so rapidly she could barely give directions. When they reached the small clearing in the center, he released her. Kate retreated a few steps, her eyes warily on him.

  “You make it dashed hard for a fellow to apologize.” He pulled off his coat and threw it aside.

  She lifted her chin, trying not to notice the hunger in his eyes as he unbuttoned his waistcoat. “Why must you apologize?”

  “Not for thinking you beautiful.” Off came the waistcoat. “If I’m the only man in the world who realizes your true beauty, so much the better.” He started toward her like a predatory beast. “No, I must apologize for not being worthy of your love. But I do intend to atone for it as best I can.”

  She dragged her gaze from his gleaming white shirtsleeves. “This isn’t the kind of love I spoke of.”

  That stopped him. His expression sobered. “Do you not believe me capable of any other kind?”

  “It’s not that,” she said softly. “But I cannot help but wonder . . . if you are here now, saying this, only because I left and piqued your manly pride.”

  “Pride,” he repeated. “You may ask Carter how much pride I displayed, digging through Nollworth’s wretched stable in search of Ogilvie’s notebooks with all the poise of a baited bear because of the way we parted. You may
ask the innkeeper how many reams of paper I burned, trying to find the right words to tell you how much I missed you. You might ask Lucien Howe to show you the bruises I put on his neck when I thought he had something to do with your disappearance, and it was not because my pride was piqued.” He spread his hands. “Pride is for the trivial things in life that make one feel important. I didn’t realize how fully you owned my heart until I returned to Bath and discovered you’d left, taking it with you. I would have realized it then even if you’d never said a word.”

  She just looked at him, yearning to believe but wary.

  Gerard tilted his head, studying her. “You misled me, you know. When you made your proposal, you led me to believe you were a quiet, dull mouse, uninterested in sharing my bed or my life. I was your means to avoid Lucien, you said, and you only asked me because I was in similarly desperate straits.”

  Kate flushed in mortification. “I was like that—”

  He shook his head slowly. “No. Your mother thought you should be, and she molded you into that creature. Howe was happy not to think about you at all and left you as you were. But you yourself . . . You want more. You like colors”—he glanced pointedly at the stylish green dress she wore—“and you look lovely in them. You like dancing at balls and visiting with Cora; even Lady Darby and Mrs. Woodforde bring you happiness. And you like being wicked and wanton in bed with me, driving me mad with wanting you.”

  “Well—yes,” she whispered, sure her face would catch fire any second. “I do like those things, but I never suspected I would . . .”

  “Just as I never expected, that night at The Duck and Dog, how much I would fall in love with you,” he said gently. “If I’d come today because of pride, I could have sent a servant out to fetch you like a piece of lost baggage. Instead I wrecked your mother’s maze so you wouldn’t put me off a moment longer. Because I do love you, and I’ve been in misery since I went to Allenton.”

  Her heart strained toward him. She swallowed hard, winding the sash of her dress around her shaking fingers. “You already know I love you.”

  “Do you still?”

  Wordlessly she nodded. There was too much cautious hope in his voice for her to contemplate denying it.

  His face eased. “May I apologize now?”

  She nodded again.

  With slow, deliberate steps he walked up to her. He smoothed back a loose strand of hair before cupping his fingers reverently around her face, tipping up her chin. Kate gave a little sob of relief when his lips finally touched hers. She clung to his wrists, kissing him back with all the love in her heart. He made a low sound deep in his throat, deepening the kiss until the ground seemed to buckle beneath her feet.

  “I’m sorry I left you even for a day,” he rasped. His body pressed in on hers. “God, how I’ve missed you, Kate . . .”

  His arousal was hard and heavy against her belly. She reached down to glide her palm over the length. “So I see.”

  His laugh was wild and short. “It’s been like that since I saw you in the garden. Am I forgiven?”

  “Yes.” She wound her arms around his neck, stretching up on her toes to draw his head back down to hers, his lips to hers. His hand slid around her neck, then down her back to the small of her waist, where he anchored her to him with one firm tug.

  “I’m going to make love to you,” he breathed. “So you’ll never doubt that I love you.”

  Kate blinked, dizzy with lust and kisses and the heady thrill of his love. “We’re outdoors.”

  “God won’t be offended,” he said, dragging up her skirt and petticoat with one hand. “We’re married. I’ve been assured it’s not a sin to ravish my own wife, fortunately for my eternal soul.”

  “Yes, but—” He untied her garter and pushed her stocking down, sliding his palm up and down her thigh before cupping her bottom. “My mother might come looking for us,” Kate said unsteadily.

  “She’s well occupied.” Gerard nipped the tender skin at the side of her neck with his teeth. “Charlie knows his duty.”

  “Charlie?” She swayed on her feet, unable to protest as he urged her down, onto his discarded coat.

  “Hmm,” he murmured against her throat, his lips whispering over her skin. “My brother. He came to help, and he’s doing a brilliant job.”

  One by one he undid the buttons that held her bodice closed so he could spread it wide open. He pressed kisses down her bosom, uttering a few mild oaths as he tried to push her corset out of the way.

  She smiled and ran her hands over his shoulders. “It’s tied in back.”

  “Curse it.” He abandoned the corset and raked up her skirts. His head dropped, and she felt his hands between her legs, guiding his length into her. He rubbed the head of it against her, and her belly spasmed in anticipation. His gaze lifted to meet hers. “Mine,” he whispered, thrusting hard. “Mine.” He hooked his elbow under her knee and pressed it back to her shoulder. “All mine.” He stroked hard and deep, right to the very center of her. Kate’s eyes rolled back as her body shuddered under his possession. With each stroke he seemed to penetrate deeper. “Take me,” he demanded as he moved. “Love me. All of me.”

  “Everything,” she gasped. With a squirm and a stretch, she got her other leg up and to the side, spreading herself wide open for his possession. Gerard bared his teeth in triumph; a bead of sweat ran down his brow. He paused only to lean down to kiss her quickly, then redoubled his efforts. Tears leaked from her eyes. Kate felt as though her blood had caught fire. When she felt the pressure rising in her, she instinctively caught her breath, holding it until the wave crested and broke, and she screamed in ecstasy. Every muscle in her body seemed drawn tight. Gerard fell to his elbows, clasping her shoulders, then thrust once more. His hips bucked, his back heaved, and she felt the hot pulse of his climax inside her.

  Kate dragged her arms over his shoulders. His breath was rapid and hot against her shoulder, and his weight pressed her flat. She opened her eyes and gazed up at the pure blue summer sky, and smiled. “I have you,” she whispered, brushing the damp hair away from his temple. “Now you’re mine. Forever.”

  His lips touched her jaw. “Forever.”

  Chapter 28

  They walked back to the house some time later, when Gerard finally said Charlie would never forgive him otherwise. He put his jacket over her shoulders and took her hand in his, possessively threading his fingers between hers. Kate looked down at their interlocked fingers and felt something lurch inside her. Her fingers were small and pale between his, but somehow they fit together perfectly. Still trying to shake all the leaves and twigs out of his hair, Gerard caught sight of her face and stopped. “What’s wrong?”

  She smiled and lowered her gaze. “Nothing.”

  He caught hold of her chin, rubbing his thumb across her lower lip. “Nothing at all?”

  “No.” Not when he was near, touching her, looking at her with those sharp blue eyes that would forever remind her of the sky on this day. “Except . . .” Her lips trembled as she took him in. “Except everyone will know . . .”

  He grinned. The sleeve of his jacket was snagged and dirty from his trip through the hedge. A small leaf was still caught in the rumpled waves of his hair. But it was the stains on the knees of his trousers that looked most incriminating to her eyes, thick dark smudges with traces of green, as if the wearer had ground them into the field vigorously and repeatedly.

  “Everyone will know what?” he asked, when she just shook her head in mute agony, trying not to burst out laughing. “That I was overcome with passion for my wife and seduced her under the approving gaze of God? Or that I had to destroy the landscaping to swear my love to her?”

  “I don’t mind if everyone knows of the second,” she said with a blush. “Although I suspect some will guess at the first.”

  He just laughed. As they strolled back to the house, hand in hand, he told her about the notebooks, the postal clerk, and Charlie’s arrival. Ka
te exclaimed with excitement that he’d found something and had a trail to follow, but grew quiet as the implications of that became clear. By the time they reached the graveled path that led past the garden back into the morning room, much of the joy bubbling inside her had fallen flat.

  “Will you have to leave Bath again, to search for this Mr. Scott?” she finally blurted out.

  He took his time answering. “I don’t think he’ll be in Bath, no.”

  Oh dear. She thought of Lieutenant Carter, champing at the bit to return to his regiment, and how at ease Gerard was in his own scarlet coat. She had closed her mind to the inevitable question of what would happen when Gerard went back to the army, but now it loomed larger in her mind. And if he would be off searching for the blackmailer until then . . . She sighed quietly, trying not to be selfish and keep him from his search. It just seemed very hard to say good-bye to him so soon, especially at this blissful moment.

  “I don’t know where Mr. Scott might be,” he went on. “I expect Charlie will have a devil of a time finding him, though.”

  She darted a cautious glance at him. “Your brother will be staying to help in the hunt, then?”

  “He’s not staying with us,” said Gerard. “But he is going to find our man. On the very, very long trip to Cobham, it struck me rather forcefully that I’m not at liberty to run around the country chasing villains, as I once was.”

  Kate kept her eyes trained on the ground, knowing if she looked at him again, she’d lose her composure. “I would never stop you from your pursuit.”

  “And that’s why I can’t go.” He turned her around to face him. “My brothers thought I was mad to come on this unicorn hunt. Charlie thought it was a waste of time, and Edward feared I’d do something rash, like shoot the man and get myself arrested for murder. I’m sure they expected nothing good would come of it, and so far, little has—except you.” He paused, his fingers sliding lightly down her throat, her breast, her belly. “And perhaps someone else.”

  Her mouth dropped open as she grasped his meaning. “No . . .”