The Duke of Deception

by Darcy Burke

  He slipped the ring on her finger, and the emerald glinted in the glow from the sconce.

  Her intake of breath surrounded him. She raised her hand and studied the ring, tilting her hand to the left and then to the right. Then she lifted her gaze to his. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

  “Does it fit?” He hadn’t known if it would. “If not, I can have a jeweler fix it.”

  She looked down at the ring once more. “It does fit. Perfectly.”

  He clasped her fingers and pressed a kiss to the back of her hand. “Then it was meant for you.”

  She looked up at him. “Do you miss your parents? It seems as though I should know about your family.”

  He flinched inwardly, knowing that he wouldn’t tell her the truth right now. In time. “Yes, somewhat.”

  “No wonder you were so keen to find a wife. Are you lonely?” she asked.

  “Not particularly.” He bit his tongue lest he tell her about George. He found he wanted to tell her—and he would. After they were settled. Things had moved so very quickly. He thought about her question and what he knew of her family. “Are you lonely?”

  She startled, or at least it seemed that way as he felt a tremor in her hand and watched her eyes widen briefly. “Not here.” She pulled her hand from his and turned to walk along the path. “You promised me a promenade.”

  She clearly wanted to change the subject. He didn’t want her to be uncomfortable. He’d have plenty of time to unpeel her layers.

  He surveyed the small garden. “I did. And you’re right, we must move so slowly as to perhaps go in reverse.”

  She laughed softly, the sound making his flesh tingle. “I wanted to ask you about what will happen after the wedding.”

  After? She wasn’t querying him about the marriage bed, was she? He silently admonished himself—of course she wasn’t. He was just absurdly preoccupied with her physical assets at present. But what the hell did he expect. He was alone with her in a nearly dark garden, and they were to be married in nine days. No one would fault him for kissing her. Or for anything else that might happen.

  He walked—although that was too fast a word for what they were doing—alongside her, aching to touch her. “I’m not certain what you’re asking. We discussed the breakfast already.” They’d done so at dinner and it was to be held at his town house under Aunt Susannah’s supervision. She was quite thrilled to plan the event. “Are you inquiring as to…later?”

  She stopped and turned toward him, her mouth opening to say something and then snapping closed. Color flooded her cheeks. “No, I wasn’t asking about that.”

  She turned from him and he heard a quiet…giggle?

  “Are you laughing?” he asked.

  Bringing her hand to her mouth, she pivoted again. He could just make out the sparkle in her blue eyes. “Would you really think I would ask you about that? I realize my reputation is that of a chatterbox, but surely that would be beyond the pale.”

  “I don’t care for that description of you. I am quite satisfied with the frequency with which you speak. And no, it isn’t beyond the pale. I can think of no one better to discuss the marriage bed with than one’s own spouse. I would be happy to tell you anything you wish to know.”

  She stared at him, her wide eyes catching more of the light. “You want to tell me…things?”

  “If you want me to.” The notion of talking to her about sex was incredibly arousing. He felt himself begin to harden.

  “I actually only wanted to know where we would be staying that night. I wasn’t sure if you wanted to travel to Sutton Park.”

  Now it was his turn to laugh. What did that say about him that he’d leapt to the conclusion he had? “I’m afraid I’m a rather eager groom. I hope that doesn’t frighten you.”

  “No.”

  “But it makes you feel something.” He couldn’t take another moment of standing this close to her and talking about sex and feelings and wedding nights without touching her. He reached out and gently stroked her collarbone, moving closer to close the gap between them.

  He felt her shiver as she nodded.

  “Nervous. Worried.” Her eyes narrowed slightly, and her nostrils flared. “Excited.”

  And just like that, he became fully, nearly uncomfortably erect. He glided his fingertips up the side of her throat and stroked the underside of her jaw with the pad of his thumb. “I’m going to kiss you now. Unless you object.”

  She shook her head. “Please.” The incongruity of the shake of her head and the invitation from her mouth made him pause.

  Yes, she wanted him to kiss her, or no, she didn’t?

  She stepped closer until her chest met his. “Kiss me, Sutton.”

  He swept his mouth over hers and curled his hand around her nape. Her arms came up around his neck as she opened her mouth and thrust her tongue past his lips. Her boldness surprised him, but he reveled in it. She was inexperienced and so incredibly delightful. He coaxed her tongue to dance with his, showed her a sensuous rhythm, which she quickly learned. Her fingers pulled at his hair as she pressed herself up into him.

  He wrapped his arm around her waist, feeling her piles of clothing and damning them all to hell. Bare flesh. He wanted bare flesh. He tore his mouth from hers and kissed along her jaw until he found that tender spot at the top of her neck. He licked her, and she gasped, her fingers thrusting into his hair. God, how he loved her responsiveness. He’d never expected this from his bride. Hoped, yes, but it had—foolishly—never been one of his requirements. Thank heaven he’d found her.

  “Sutton,” she murmured.

  “Ned. If you prefer, you may call me Ned.” He’d always been Ned among his family. And she was his family.

  “Ned.” Her breath came in soft pants as his lips traveled down to the edge of her bodice. She smelled of lavender and sweetness, and he couldn’t get enough of her.

  He cupped her breast, and she gasped. He stopped, worried that he’d gone too far. Straightening, he worked to gain control of his thundering pulse and his overheated body. “I’m afraid I became a bit enraptured.”

  “Oh.” A faint blush—or at least it looked faint in this light—stained her cheeks. “I think I did too. I don’t really know. I’ve never been enraptured. But I felt as though I might fall down, as if my legs couldn’t really support me any longer. Is that normal?”

  She was, without a doubt, the best woman he could’ve chosen. “Yes, I believe so. My legs felt a bit weak too.”

  “That’s good, then. Because I’m certain you know what you’re doing. Although, I’ll try not to contemplate that.” She tipped her head to the side. “I don’t think I like thinking of you kissing other women.”

  He didn’t think it was possible for him to grow more aroused, but her flash of jealousy provoked him. “Aquilla. The things you say… Please, don’t ever stop talking. Except when I’m kissing you.” He pulled her into his arms again and kissed her thoroughly.

  She pulled back. “But what if it’s terribly important?”

  “What could be more important than kissing?” He demonstrated by kissing her again and employing his lips and tongue to the very best of his ability.

  When he left her mouth to nibble along her jaw, she rasped, “I surely don’t know. Right now, kissing seems to be the only thing of importance.”

  He smiled against her skin and held her tightly against him, relishing in the feel of her breasts pressed to his chest.

  “But I did have a question, and since my mouth is free, I’ll go ahead and ask. Actually, I asked it earlier. Will we go to Sutton Park after the breakfast or remain in Town?”

  A bit of his desire faded at the mention of this topic, but she was quite right in that he hadn’t answered her question. He hadn’t tried to avoid doing so, he’d just become enraptured with her. He pulled back but kept his hands around her waist. “We’ll be staying in Town.”

  “I see.”

  He couldn’t tell if she was disappointed or happy or simp
ly didn’t have an opinion. “Is that all right?”

  “Certainly. I don’t mind being in London. I’ve always preferred it to home, in fact.” She pressed her lips together, and the action made him think that she wished she hadn’t shared that. The mystery of her family grew in his mind. But now was not the time to question her about it, just as now was not the time to broach the subject of why he wished to remain in London instead of going to Sutton Park. Not when he could continue kissing her.

  “You’re going to kiss me again,” she said.

  He stopped in lowering his head. “How did you know?”

  “You get this glint in your eye, this…desire. It makes my knees wobbly.”

  She was divine. “Mine too.” He kissed her softly, licking at her mouth and introducing his teeth to graze on her lips. She shivered, which he interpreted as enjoyment.

  Until she twitched and gasped into his mouth.

  He broke the kiss, concerned. “What?”

  “Don’t you feel that? It’s raining.” She looked heavenward and was promptly rewarded with a fat raindrop landing on her nose. “Oh!”

  Without thinking, he darted his tongue out and licked the moisture from her flesh. “Delicious.”

  The drops started falling in earnest then. He grabbed her hand and pulled her back to the porch, which was covered by the veranda overhead.

  “It’s like when we first met,” she said. “Except this time you were caught in the rain too.”

  He’d never appreciated rain more than in that moment. “I don’t think I’ll ever see rain in the same light.”

  “Me neither.”

  He led her inside, where they kissed some more until they were both breathless, and he feared he would never be able to make himself presentable for everyone upstairs.

  She eyed him with a sultry gaze. “We’ve been gone an awfully long time.”

  “Yes, we should go back up.” He willed his body to return to a less rigid state.

  The room they were in was a sort of library, and they made their way through it to the dining room before entering the hall. As they did so, the butler stopped them. Thankfully, he didn’t reflect even a bit of surprise or concern at seeing them alone together. “My lord, this arrived for you.”

  He handed Ned a folded parchment, which he immediately began to tuck into his coat.

  “Aren’t you going to read it?” she asked.

  “Later.”

  “But what if it’s important?”

  Hell, what if it was about George? How could he be so careless?

  Because he’d been rather swept away.

  Pushing away his frustration, he opened the paper and read the short contents.

  Sutton,

  I understand you obtained a license today to marry Miss Knox. I’d already had the banns read at our parish church yesterday in Lindsell. You’re a vile thief, and if I were a lesser man, I would call you out. I encourage you to stay clear of me.

  Lindsell

  Ned suppressed the urge to laugh. As if the jackanapes would have the courage to call him out. Ned was slightly disappointed.

  Aquilla stood at his side and peered up at him. “What is it? You look amused.”

  “I am. Lindsell is suffering a fit of pique due to our impending nuptials. I’m apparently lucky he’s not going to challenge me to a duel.”

  She lifted her hand to her mouth. “You’re joking.”

  “No, but it’s a joke to be sure. He wouldn’t duel anyone any sooner than I plan to avoid him.”

  She frowned. “You aren’t going to agitate him, are you?”

  “No, I’m going to ignore him. A month from now, I doubt I shall even recall his name.”

  Her features relaxed, and her lips found their way to a smile. “Who?”

  Oh yes, he liked his wife-to-be very much indeed.

  Chapter Ten

  Married. Aquilla still wasn’t sure it was real. And yet the wedding breakfast bustled around her. Her new home—Ned’s town house—was larger than Satterfield House, and it easily supported the hundred or so people in attendance. Unused to being the center of attention, she’d maneuvered her way into the corner and now had a surprising moment of solitude.

  She looked down at the emerald on her finger, which she still wasn’t used to wearing. It was as if she inhabited a dream, but then the entire last week had passed like one. Lady Satterfield had insisted on several new gowns, including the one Aquilla was wearing now and had worn for the ceremony earlier at St. George’s. And so many people had called to pay their respects and offer their congratulations—people who’d never looked twice at Aquilla before. But now that she was to be a countess…

  And not just any countess. She’d brought the notorious Duke of Deception up to scratch. Not that anyone else referred to him in that manner—that remained a private joke between Aquilla and her friends. Still, his reputation was not a secret, and everyone was eager to meet the woman who’d done the impossible.

  A few of the callers, married women who were Aquilla’s age or a bit older, had admitted that they’d once undergone his consideration. They’d asked Aquilla what she’d done to be successful. Of course she hadn’t been able to answer that question, but it had made her curious. What about her was different? Why had he chosen her?

  The people who hadn’t come to visit or in any way participated in the wedding preparations were her parents. They’d arrived just yesterday, along with her older brother, Paul, and his wife, Jane. Lady Satterfield had invited them to stay at Satterfield House, but had told Aquilla that her father had declined. This—naturally—delighted Aquilla. If only they hadn’t come at all.

  Involuntarily—it was a habit she’d long since developed out of self-preservation—she scanned the large drawing room in search of her father and her brother. They stood in a foursome near the fireplace. The men were talking while Aquilla’s mother and sister-in-law stood silent, their eyes blank, their features stiff. Aquilla’s gut clenched, and she forced herself to look away.

  Too late. Her father had made eye contact, and now he was coming toward her.

  Panicking, she chastised herself for going off alone. Now she was easy prey. Hopefully, someone would come and interrupt. She was the bride after all.

  Father strode toward her, his rounded gut reaching her before the rest of him. “I can scarcely believe you are a countess. I never thought I’d see the day.”

  Her brother had followed him. He was taller than their father, nearly six feet, and more handsome. He hadn’t yet earned the red nose and spidery veins that evidenced their father’s fondness for whiskey.

  “Well done, sister,” Paul said. It should’ve been a kind compliment, but since he sneered while he drawled the words, Aquilla saw it for what it was—condescension.

  “Thank you. It was kind of you both to come.”

  “It wasn’t kind,” Father said sharply. “It was necessary. I’m still very put out that you didn’t marry Lindsell. Your husband sought the license before he’d even received my approval.”

  Aquilla hadn’t known that. She’d received an angry, hate-filled letter from her father last Monday but hadn’t mentioned it to Ned. What would be the point? She’d assumed Ned had also received a letter that day and had gone to obtain the license after that.

  She reminded herself that she didn’t have to be afraid of this man anymore, that she was out of his reach. “It hardly signifies since the deed is done.”

  “Careful, gel. Don’t forget about your dear mother.” He shot a glance toward the fireplace, where she still stood in silence next to Jane.

  It was a threat, and one he’d wielded more and more since Aquilla had confronted him three years ago. Once she’d witnessed the depth of his abuse toward her mother, Aquilla had begged him to stop.

  But it had only taken one warning from him to send her scurrying away. He was happy to provide her with the same treatment, meaning physical abuse, if she cared to put her nose where it didn’t belong.

 
; “You’ve always been a cheeky bitch,” Paul said, shaking his head.

  Aquilla stiffened. They dared speak to her like that here? In her own home? If it wasn’t her wedding breakfast and they weren’t surrounded by the cream of the ton, she would’ve asked Ned to throw them out. Except then they would just take their anger out on their wives.

  She forced a smile that she was sure came out looking like some sort of nasty grimace. “I do thank you for coming.”

  Her father snatched her elbow as she started to walk past him, his fingers digging into her flesh. “Remember where you came from, gel.”

  How could she ever forget?

  He released her, and she held her head high as she walked away on watery legs. She hated that he still had the power to intimidate her. If it weren’t for her mother, maybe she would be able to turn her back on him for good.

  She altered her course and walked to her mother and Jane. Both of their eyes reflected surprise and then wariness.

  “Did he ask you to come over here?” Mother asked in a low tone.

  “No. I only wanted to tell you,” she glanced at Jane, “and you, that if you ever need to come and stay with me—either here or at Sutton Park, you are more than welcome. Stay one night, stay for the Season, stay forever.”

  “They’re coming,” Jane whispered, her eyes alight with fear.

  Aquilla noticed a dark mark on Jane’s neck. It was mostly concealed with powder, but Aquilla had learned to recognize such things on her mother. She looked at her sister-in-law with sympathy. “I’m so sorry, Jane.”

  “Go,” Mother urged. “You don’t have to worry about me anymore.” She took Aquilla’s hand and gave it a quick, firm squeeze. “Please remember what I said—don’t trust him. Never, ever trust him.”

  Her eyes went blank, and Aquilla knew her father and brother must be near. She walked away, wishing there was something she could do and knowing there wasn’t. Brushing past people, she went outside to the terrace. It had rained early that morning, but the sun had decided to present itself when they’d emerged from the church. Lady Satterfield had said it was the heavens bestowing their approval on their marriage.