The Duchess Diaries: The Bridal Pleasures Series

by Jillian Hunter

  “I understand what you meant,” Charlotte said. “But I have to try to stop him.”

  Miss Peppertree blinked like a barn owl. “I know what I would do under the circumstances.”

  “You…” Charlotte studied her with fresh interest. “Would you?”

  The woman gave a stiff nod. “A lady must use all means at her disposal to avoid an unpleasant outcome. I daresay a duel to the death qualifies as such.”

  “To the death.” Charlotte bit her lip. “And I am the cause.”

  “Then you must be the solution.”

  “Oh, Daphne. I never realized that you understood these affairs.”

  “Understanding and approving of them are two different matters altogether. You are caught in the middle of this. Perhaps you can prevent the worst.”

  Charlotte drew in a breath. “I can only try.”

  Chapter 29

  It was almost midnight. Gideon had settled down in his study with a brandy. A letter had arrived earlier in the day from his daughter’s governess. Mrs. Stearns wanted to inform Gideon that she and Lady Sarah had left Wynfield House and did not expect to arrive in London before the wedding due to travel delays; assuming that the weather remained mild, they hoped to be there shortly afterward, though.

  Lady Sarah is beside herself with excitement, Your Grace. Of course, she wishes to see you again. But more than anything she cannot wait to meet her new mother, whom I presume to be a lady of refinement.…

  Gideon sighed. The fusty woman was never going to let him forget that she had caught him in bed with one of his neighbors, a widow whose lust and aversion to remarrying had exceeded his own. Well, he’d have the last laugh once he introduced her to Charlotte. Mrs. Stearns would not believe her eyes. And maybe she would be the one to laugh at him. Maybe she wouldn’t even recognize him. He was unknown to himself these days.

  Charlotte had changed everything.

  He put the letter back on the table.

  Charlotte had changed him.

  Unfortunately she had not changed his possessive nature or his tendency to act on his anger. In fact, Charlotte seemed to bring out the best and worst of him, sometimes at once.

  Apparently she had the same effect on other men. Look at the country bumpkin Gideon would have to take down a peg tomorrow. Gideon would give the man credit if he had the ballocks to show up.

  “Your Grace?”

  “Yes, Shelby,” he said moodily, without turning to the door.

  “Will there be anything else tonight?”

  “Everything is ready for tomorrow?”

  “Absolutely,” Shelby said with an enthusiasm he rarely showed. “Your dueling pistols have been checked and your boots have been polished to a high sheen. The carriage will collect Sir Christopher on the way. I will accompany Your Grace, I assume?”

  Gideon chuckled. “You need not anticipate the event with such relish, Shelby. It hasn’t been that long since the last duel.”

  “I have respect for tradition, Your Grace. We must not allow modern times to make us lose sight of where we began.”

  Gideon smiled, staring into the fire. “Admit it. You are happy to see me leg-shackled again.”

  “It will be a relief to see you settled down, Your Grace. And, if I may add, the staff is gratified that you are doing the right thing by Miss Boscastle as well as by Lady Sarah. It is high time, too, I must add.”

  “Good God, you are impertinent—” Gideon broke off, realizing that Shelby had dropped that last remark like a grenade and then wisely disappeared. What could Gideon say? He, too, was anxious to make amends to Sarah. He removed his jacket and vest. He loosened his neck cloth and started to unbutton his shirt.

  He rubbed his face. He had been abrupt with Charlotte today. He had barreled past her in the hall without a word, because the only words that came to him at the time had been obscene. But she could hardly expect him to care about etiquette when he’d caught another man attempting to lure her away. And when he thought about how that man had insulted her and caused her grief before he was in her life to protect her…

  He had to put her out of his mind until after the duel or he would be tempted to murder his opponent, when his intention was only to wound him as a warning. He needed to relax. But it took effort to keep his thoughts from wandering.

  It was as if she had become part of him, as if she were standing behind him, as if she were whispering in his ear—

  “Gideon.”

  “What the hell?”

  He surged to his feet, knocking his knee into the table that sat beside his chair. It was a blessing that he’d emptied his glass, as it rolled across the carpet. “Damnation! What in the devil’s name are you doing here again at this time of night? Am I dreaming? Am I losing my mind? Are you out of yours?”

  He shook his head. Nothing changed. It was her, in the flesh and not a figment of his imagination. It was his betrothed, swathed from throat to ankle in her blue evening cloak, her eyes widening in dismay—as if he had startled her out of her wits and not the other way around. He swore again, threw up his hands, and circled her.

  “Your Grace, control yourself this instant,” she said, virtually imprisoned by his circling. “I will not tolerate such shameful language in my presence.”

  “In your presence!” he bellowed. He ground his teeth. “Control myself?” He chased her around the chair. “You’re the one who needs to be brought under control. I hope you did not come here by yourself. Because if you did I shall seriously have to contemplate building a stone tower in which to protect you when we are apart.”

  She blinked, her gaze dropping and flying back to his face. “You are half-dressed.”

  “Am I?” He yanked off his neck cloth and tossed it in the air. “I do not sit about all hours of the night in a top hat and long-tailed coat waiting for the next woman to burst in unannounced.”

  “Oh? Is that right?”

  “Don’t ‘oh’ me. Yes. I’m half-dressed. And when I go to bed, I take off the rest of my clothes. Sometimes I sleep in my raw state. What do you expect when you sneak into a man’s castle this late at night?”

  She blinked again.

  “How did you arrive here?” he demanded, taking a step forward.

  “Devon brought me. Harriet is with him, too.”

  “Where is he? I’ve had enough of his interference.”

  “I’m not sure where he is,” she said, looking insulted. “I asked him to come back for me in two hours. You can’t go outside like that, anyway.”

  “How did you get in the house?”

  “Your—”

  He clapped his hand to his head. “Don’t tell me. Let me take a wild guess. It was Shelby.”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Two hours, you say. For what? Let me guess again. You think that in two hours you will be able to talk me out of the duel tomorrow.”

  “If there is any way—”

  “Try it. Do your best.” He reached out and unfastened her cloak. “Convince me. But bear in mind that my butler will be upset if there isn’t a duel tomorrow.”

  Her eyes clung to his. “I don’t want blood to be spilled over me. Is that unreasonable?”

  He lowered his head to hers. “Dearest, would you feel better if I promise to shoot him in a part of his body where the wound will not show?”

  “I…” She threw her arms around his neck and drew his head to hers.

  Despite his anger at her motives, he found himself aroused by her inexpert attempt at seduction. He felt his cock thicken uncomfortably in his trousers. The blood in his veins came to a boil and surged. The dominant male in him would take anything she offered, delaying conscience for another day. The pleasures of the night reigned for now.

  “Gideon, please,” she whispered against his mouth. “For the sake of decency—”

  “Decency is the last thing on my mind. And on yours, it appears.”

  “It’s dangerous for you to duel.”

  “Not as dangerous as it is for y
ou to be in the position you are right now.”

  “Then I—”

  “No. You’re here now.”

  His mouth absorbed her involuntary cry as he drew her down against him on the carpet. He harbored the softer curves of her breasts and belly against his body. For a moment he simply reveled in her captivity, in the sultry heat that rose from her skin. She gave a tentative push of her shoulder against his. He gripped her buttocks, and his body went hard. He shifted, raising his knee to nudge her to his thickening shaft.

  “Gideon?” she whispered, her mouth slipping from his.

  She hadn’t even lifted her head when he turned her onto her back and with indolent deliberation unhooked her cloak and then the front of her gown. He swiftly stayed the hand she raised to shield her breasts from his scrutiny. He lowered his head and drew one tender nipple at a time between his teeth. She made a sound in her throat that destroyed his control and set his fiercer instincts loose.

  “You came here to make a case, Charlotte.” He reached down to raise the ruffled hem of her dress. “I think I should hear your pleas before I decide what I’ll do next. If I can still think in a few moments, that is.”

  She smiled the dreamy smile that unfailingly disarmed him. “You’ve been drinking brandy,” she murmured as his hand climbed from her ankle and past her knee. “I can taste it on your lips.”

  “I’m dying to devour you,” he said, lifting her dress up past her rounded belly to expose her silky triangle of hair. His fingers slid up her thigh and parted her plump flesh. Her moisture glistened upon his hand as he played her with shameless enjoyment.

  “Oh.” She caught her lower lip between her teeth, a sob escaping her. He smiled. She turned her head and closed her eyes, her back arching in a pose that made his heart race.

  “Raise your knees,” he said quietly. “And open your legs for me. What did you want to tell me?”

  “I…can’t remember.”

  His body clenched, every muscle wound tight, as she obeyed, the fire’s glow highlighting the warm hollow that drew his fascinated gaze.

  “You ought to be ashamed of yourself,” she whispered, her hips slowly rotating in a sensuality that sent his pulse soaring.

  “But I’m not,” he said, positioning himself at a perfect angle between her upraised legs. From here he could study her slightest response. He eased one finger at a time into her soaked heat, his blood flaring, a river of fire racing through his veins.

  Her belly tensed. She pressed her knees together to fight his invasion, then slowly yielded to his demand. “Delicious,” he said, his eyes heavy-lidded with unconcealed encouragement as he savored her, concentrated his every sense on forcing her complete surrender.

  “Decadent,” she whispered, twisting at the waist in a bid to interrupt his play.

  He shook his head, and her grasp loosened; her eyes locked with his in a small war he would not let her win. He drew in a slow breath. The perfume of her desire intoxicated him. He raked his thumb through her wispy curls to tease her where she was most sensitive and responsive to his touch.

  He watched her intently. The pressure built inside her. He saw her hips twist, her belly contract. The pink tips of her breasts darkened to deep rose, tempting him beyond what he could resist. He lifted his other hand to tug and twist each nipple, deliberately heightening the havoc he inflicted on her.

  She shuddered, spreading her legs even farther apart to ride his hand, gasping as he flicked his thumb faster. “I can’t,” she whispered brokenly. “It’s too much, Gideon.”

  “I know,” he soothed her. But it wasn’t enough for him.

  “I want…I want…” she said, moving her hips now in time with the relentless caress of his thumb.

  “I know,” he murmured again. “I know what you want.” His rod strained and pulsed in rampant demand. He summoned his will and focused his skill on unleashing her senses. She was so close he could feel her muscles tensing in the silent torment that heralded release.

  God help him. Her sobs punctuated her broken exhalations of breath. She lifted her hips and a powerful lust blanketed his awareness. Soon. Soon. Now. His thumb moved faster. She wasn’t in control; he was. His fingers penetrated her folds, drove so deeply into her warmth that he felt the cresting pleasure of her climax as if it were his own.

  He closed his eyes, lowering his forehead to her knee. The part of his mind capable of thought took note that she was wearing plain cotton stockings, a testament to the fact that she needed no adornments to reduce him to a primitive state.

  He stood, breathing hard, willing his body to settle down. He was afraid to touch her again. He was hesitant to even look at her. He stared into the fire. The thought of taking her maidenhood would keep him awake for the rest of the night. He might as well not even try to sleep. Whatever she had hoped to accomplish by coming here hadn’t worked.

  She sat up. He glanced back instinctively and realized that she hadn’t drawn her chemise over her plump breasts or rehooked her bodice. She looked tousled and…just like the unrestrained temptress of a few moments before.

  “What are you thinking?” she whispered, her eyes climbing from his boots to his face.

  “That I need to sit in a cold bath until my b— my body turns blue.”

  “You’ll stimulate your blood by cold bathing this time of night,” she said.

  His gaze dropped to her breasts. “I doubt a bath could be more stimulating than you.”

  “Have you reconsidered the duel?” she asked, and he’d be damned if she wasn’t deliberately planning to provoke him by not even pretending to shield herself from his scrutiny.

  He laughed. “No. All you’ve done is convince me that I don’t want another man anywhere near you.”

  She looked chagrined. “Well, I will have to try another tactic. A more persuasive one.”

  “I am persuaded more than ever that you need protection against men like Phillip, if not like me.”

  “You mean you let me act like one of your trollops and had no intention of changing your mind?”

  “Basically.”

  “That is unconscionable.”

  “Probably.”

  “You led me to believe that if I distracted you I could influence your decision.”

  “I never said any such thing, darling. That was your intention, not mine.”

  “Well, you certainly led me to believe you were enjoying yourself.”

  “I was. Immensely. I could have enjoyed myself that way for the rest of the night. But you see, despite your charm, I will fight a duel in the morning, and if I feel like a ravenous beast right now, I doubt my mood will improve before dawn.”

  “Sit down on the couch, Gideon.”

  He stared at her, his brow furrowing at her deep tone of voice. He remained motionless. He watched her hand drift down to her breasts, her tapered fingers touching the tip of her nipple.

  “Please,” she said with a siren’s smile.

  “Why?” he asked, almost dropping to the floor to beg for mercy.

  She shrugged. If she had decided to lecture him, he would retaliate by pretending to fall asleep.

  “Fine,” he said tersely. “I’ll sit. But I’m not of an attitude to pay attention.”

  That was what he had thought.

  Charlotte had set her mind on seduction. But after what he had just done to her, she was more than a woman on an unselfish mission. She was a woman giving herself to her desires.

  It was daring to perform an act that she had seen only in a picture on a man of Gideon’s expertise. He might mock her unskilled efforts.

  And hopefully she would change his mind about the duel.

  But if he liked it, she was one step closer to proving that he was not marrying the reserved maiden she had been when they met. She would come to this marriage fully prepared to satisfy his needs. And hers.

  She slid to the floor, balancing on her knees, her hands lifting to slide down his chest to his stomach. His head jerked back. She was unsure
how to go about unfastening his trousers, but at her hesitant try, his face darkened in disbelieving comprehension and he took over the task himself.

  She watched avidly as he eased his pants down over his narrow hips to the tops of his boots. He was hard and well sculpted and beautiful.

  His phallus rose thick and straight from the dark hair that grew beneath his flat belly. “Go on,” he said, his breath a rasp that sent shivers through her. “Touch me.”

  She lifted her hands to wrap her fingers around the base of his organ. He sat forward, staring down at her, his face incredulous, dark with elemental desire.

  “Are you going to take me in your mouth?” he asked in a raw voice.

  “Hmm.” She sighed, and very gently leaned closer to lick the entire length of him from the base of his engorged shaft to its head.

  “Jesus God,” he said, his hips bucking at the exquisite sensations that inundated him. He had never felt or seen anything as erotic as her soft pink mouth closing around the crest of his cock and sucking him for all she was worth. He slid to the very edge of the couch, jerking involuntarily when she took him even deeper into her mouth. He closed his eyes; then he opened them. He wanted to see her sucking and circling back to the knobby tip of his erection.

  She was beautiful. He stared at her down-bent head, her hair flowing to her rounded breasts and her swollen nipples.

  “You’d better stop now,” he warned her, tempted to thrust and let her swallow him whole. Where had she learned this? Was she a natural wanton at heart? He hoped so. What more could he want than a wife who was as sensually adventurous as she was caring and untainted and…sweet?

  “Am I doing this the way you like it?” she whispered, and gave him no chance to reply before resuming her welcome assault and bringing him to the brink.

  “I like it so much I am going to come in your mouth if you don’t stop,” he said, his belly drawing tight.

  But she didn’t. And he allowed her to continue, losing all sense of time.

  She kept up the blissful agony, and the tension inside him kept building, intensifying. She must have sensed it. Her lips closed tightly, her tongue flicking, and she drew at him harder, faster. And then he knew it was too late to stop.