My Once and Future Duke
Page 29
But it was true that she had encouraged him to draw. “I only suggested you draw me because we’ve been alone at Alwyn this past month,” she remarked. “Unless you wish to sketch Wilson while he polishes the silver, I’m the only person who can sit for you.”
“I have no interest in sketching Wilson or anyone else polishing the silver.” His golden hair fell forward over his eyes as he rubbed out something on his pad. It had taken her this long to persuade him it wouldn’t be ridiculous to try his hand at sketching again. But once he picked up the pencil and paper, his reluctance faded away and his face grew intent and absorbed. Her heart felt so full it might burst.
“No?” She grinned. “That ruins my plan to polish your mother’s epergne without any clothes on.”
His pencil stopped moving. Jack drew a deep breath and glanced up at her. “You’re about to be ravished, madam. And doomed never to have a sketch of yourself that anyone else may see.”
Sophie laughed again. She crossed her legs, giving her skirts a little kick to get them out of the way so she could wiggle her toes at him. Jack dropped his sketch pad and pencil on the floor and crossed the room in one step, going down on his knee beside her.
“Heartless wench,” he murmured. “Teasing your poor husband like that . . .”
She wound her arms around his neck. “I humbly apologize. How shall I console him?”
“Oh no, I’m going to repay you. Be careful what you wish for, my dear . . .” His hand closed on her ankle and slid up her leg. “I was drawing you naked, and now I’d like to see you that way.”
Sophie gasped, then laughed, and then caught her breath as he lowered his head and pressed his lips to the pulse at the base of her throat. Wordlessly she clutched his head to her bosom, embracing the tide of heat rushing through her body. Both his hands were under her skirt now, plowing upward, and a tremor went through her. Five weeks of marriage had done nothing to diminish her craving for his touch. Everything else about her new life felt strange and awkward still—from her mother-in-law’s cool regard to her splendid new wardrobe to the way servants bowed when she walked by—but when it was just the two of them, she and Jack, everything felt right.
There was a knock at the door. Wilson had walked in on Jack kissing her rather passionately one morning in the breakfast room, and now he never entered a room without knocking. Sophie appreciated that even if Jack, who’d had servants every day of his life, saw no need for it.
This time they both ignored it, but a moment later the knock came again. When it sounded a third time Jack lifted his head, his eyes blazing with irritation, and barked, “Yes?”
Sophie, her dress now unfastened and disarranged, lay still and quiet out of sight on the sofa as the butler opened the door. “Your Grace, there is a young woman insisting on seeing the duchess. Her name is Lady Georgiana Lucas.” Sophie gasped, and Jack pressed lightly on her chest to quell it.
“She is quite agitated, Your Grace,” added Wilson. “She says it is urgent.”
Sophie gripped his wrist in wordless anxiety. A muscle tensed in Jack’s jaw. “Show her to the Blue Room and assure her the duchess will see her soon.”
“Very good, sir.”
The door closed with a click, and Sophie scrambled up from the cushions. “What can Georgiana be doing here?”
“What, indeed?” Jack watched mournfully as she pulled her bodice back up and began trying to fasten it.
Sophie shook her head. “She would never come without warning unless it was truly, desperately urgent—especially here. What can it be?”
“Trouble with her fiancé,” he guessed, reluctantly helping with her buttons.
“Perhaps.” Sophie was doubtful. Lord Sterling would have to do something very terrible indeed to spoil Georgiana’s regard for him, and he didn’t seem that stupid. Sophie had finally met the elusive viscount after her wedding to Jack; as predicted, Lady Sidlow’s objections to Sophie’s company had melted away once Sophie outranked her. Lord Sterling had come to call at Ware House with Georgiana, the very vision of a suave charmer. He’d expressed his envy that Jack had been able to whisk Sophie to the altar in a matter of days, while Georgiana’s brother, the Earl of Wakefield, dragged out the negotiation of their wedding settlements for an eternity. Sterling had held Georgiana’s hand and looked like a man in love.
“Family,” was Jack’s next idea.
Sophie shook her head. Georgiana knew her family was eccentric and sometimes stuffy, and she laughed at them affectionately. “I can’t imagine what would bring her running to Chiswick.”
“Then I suppose I cannot keep you from her.” Jack pulled her close and kissed her hard. “Go, my dear. I shall sit here and work on my sketch.”
“Without me posing for you?” She affected disappointment as she wound her hair into a knot.
Her husband winked and released her. “I have it fixed in my head, precisely how the sketch should look.”
“Have I got any clothes on in this sketch you can see in your head?” she asked with a laugh.
“Not a scrap.” He scooped up his pencil and pad. “Hurry back and allow me to check my memory.”
Still shaking her head and smiling, Sophie hurried to the Blue Room. Unlike the first time she’d seen it, today the room glowed like a sapphire in the sunlight streaming through the tall windows. The garden was a riot of color outside, and just stepping into the room made her smile. But the expression quickly died when Georgiana turned to face her.
“What’s wrong?”
Georgiana rushed across the room. She looked wild, her eyes red-rimmed, her hair swinging free in a braid and her pelisse buttoned wrong. “You’ve got to come back to town with me, Sophie. It’s Eliza.”
Her heart stopped. Eliza should be at home with her own new husband. A fortnight after Sophie wed Jack, Eliza had become the Countess of Hastings, radiant and blushing with joy. The three friends had shared a wonderful moment of tearful happiness, reflecting on how splendidly things had worked out for each of them in love. A dozen years ago, playing illicit card games at Mrs. Upton’s, Sophie never would have guessed they would all find such happiness at the same time. “What’s happened to Eliza?”
“I don’t know,” cried Georgiana, wringing her hands. “She didn’t say, and Lady Sidlow won’t allow me to go on my own. I’m so very sorry to intrude on you, when you and Ware must be so cozy and happy away from London, but I’ve no one else I can ask! Please, Sophie. We have to find her.”
“Find her?” Sophie repeated sharply. “Georgiana, explain!”
Her friend drew a deep breath. “I saw Eliza just two days ago at the Montgomery ball. She was radiant, happy, and looked the picture of bliss. I even saw her dance with Hastings, and I swear they gazed at each other with stars in their eyes. But this morning—” She broke off and dug in her reticule. “She sent me this.”
Sophie took the crumpled note and recognized Eliza’s handwriting. She read the two sentences it contained, then read them again. Stunned, she looked up at Georgiana.
Georgiana nodded grimly. “She’s left her husband. And no one knows where she’s gone.”
About the Author
CAROLINE LINDEN knew from an early age she was a reader, not a writer. She earned a math degree from Harvard University and wrote computer code before turning to fiction. Her books have won the Daphne du Maurier Award, the NJRW Golden Leaf Award, and RWA’s RITA® Award, and have been translated into seventeen languages around the world. She lives in New England with her family. Find her online at www.CarolineLinden.com.
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Also by Caroline Linden
Six Degrees of Scandal
Love in the Time of Scandal
All’s Fair in Love and Scandal (novella)
It Takes a Scandal
Love and Other Scandals
The Way to a Duke’s Heart
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One Night in London
I Love the Earl (novella)
You Only Love Once
For Your Arms Only
A View to a Kiss
A Rake’s Guide to Seduction
What a Rogue Desires
What a Gentleman Wants
What a Woman Needs
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
my once and future duke. Copyright © 2018 by P. F. Belsley. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins Publishers. For information, address HarperCollins Publishers, 195 Broadway, New York, NY 10007.
Digital Edition MARCH 2018 ISBN: 978-0-06-267293-3
Print Edition ISBN: 978-0-06-267292-6
Cover design by Guido Caroti
Cover illustration by Gregg Gulbronson
Cover photograph © Natalia K/Shutterstock
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