The Duke's Mysterious Lady

by Maggi Andersen

  Rosie didn’t push him away. She nestled her head against his chest. “Oh, Hugh, we can’t be together. I must return to York to deal with Rupert. I’m worried about my groom.”

  “Come.” He took her hand. As they reached the stable block, a man emerged.

  Rosalind let go of his hand and ran forward. “Jim! I can’t believe it’s you!”

  Jim grinned. “His Grace rescued me, my lady. He kindly let me bring your mare, Jessie. She’s safe here in the stables. That rascal cousin of yours had me tied up in a garden shed.”

  She spun to face Hugh, her eyes shining. “I can’t imagine how you came to know of this.”

  She looked so beautiful he caught his breath. “I shall tell you all of it, my love, in good time,” he said, taking her arm. “You must excuse us, Jim. I wish to show Lady Rosalind the rose arbor.”

  Jim grinned and bowed.

  ****

  “I’ve ached for you, Rosalind,” Hugh murmured, drawing her away into a shady corner of the rose garden. His arms encircled her and drew her close. His tender voice and his hard body were like a balm to her damaged soul. She wrapped her arms around his neck, to gaze into his beloved face, his warm brown eyes filled with love.

  His mouth covered hers hungrily. She was filled with a heated yearning that drove all rational thought from her head.

  Hugh led her to the seat in the arbor where bees hummed amongst the bright blossoms. “I picked the wrong name for you.”

  He kissed the hollow at the base of her throat. “Rosalind in double hose would have been just perfect.”

  Rosie laughed. “Rosie.”

  “Rosie.” His voice was husky as his lips found the sensitive spot below her ear.

  “My father was fond of Shakespeare.”

  Her head was spinning. She should resist him. She wanted to do the right thing by the man she loved. “I don’t dare think of a future for us, Hugh. Rupert will spread the most dreadful gossip about us in London. I carry a letter for the magistrate to evict him from my home. He is a very dangerous man. I suspect he might have hastened my father’s death.”

  “Won’t you leave Rupert to me, Rosie?” He took her chin in his hand. “Have I not proved I can handle him?”

  She touched his cheek. “Oh, you have, Hugh. But Rupert is a dishonorable man; he will lie and cheat for his own ends. I worry for your sister’s sake too. She is on the Almack’s committee and very much a part of London Society. The scandal would embarrass and upset her dreadfully.”

  “It won’t come to that.”

  She gazed at him anxiously. “What do you plan to do?”

  “We will go to York tomorrow and see what’s best to be done. And once that’s settled, my darling, will you promise to marry me, Rosie?”

  “Oh, Hugh. I want so much to be your wife. I love you.”

  Hugh kissed the sensitive spot on her throat below her ear.

  “Do you know when I fell in love with you?”

  She smiled and shook her head.

  “When you walked into my breakfast room in that dreadful blue gown my housekeeper gave you. I wanted to strip it off you immediately.”

  “You did?”

  “To dress you in an outfit far more suited to your beauty, of course.”

  “Oh, I see,” she said, with false gravity.

  “And then to remove those. Slowly. Piece by piece.”

  Rosie laughed. “I believe this confirms what I’ve always thought. You are a rake, Your Grace.”

  Hugh’s eyebrows shot up. “A rake?”

  “You and your friend, Jock entered the library when I was reading on the gallery. You talked of defending Princess Caroline, which I thought was a noble cause. But then the conversation turned to your French mistress.”

  “And you didn’t think to show yourself?”

  “Of course not. Snoops learn so much more, don’t you think?”

  “You are going to be difficult to keep in line, Lady Rosalind.”

  “Only, if you are unjust.” She stroked his cheek. “And I know you won’t be.”

  “You have little to worry about, I am well broken in. I had to escort Felicity all the way to York and back, and that’s no mean feat, I can assure you. I’m relieved she now has a husband.”

  Rosie gazed at him with love shining in her eyes. “I don’t know why she chose him over you, but I’m so glad she did.” She put her hands to her cheeks. “Let’s go and tell Nanny. Won’t she be surprised.”

  “Not about us I shouldn’t think,” Hugh said, with a smile.

  “Nanny is a canny old soul.”

  Three days later, Hugh’s carriage deposited Rosie and her aunt at the King’s Arms Hotel in York where they would stay until Rupert was evicted from the house.

  On the way in the carriage, Rosie had confessed her suspicion that Rupert had murdered her father. She expressed her dread at what Rupert would do, when they went to see the magistrate the next morning. She had the solicitor’s letter in case she needed it, but Hugh planned to find the Merryville House servants Rupert had dismissed and question them. He wanted Merryville imprisoned in Newgate on a charge of murder.

  The Magistrate, Mr. Bosworth, grimly showed them in. “I’m afraid I have grave news, Lady Rosalind. Your cousin, Lord Merryville is deceased. We believe he was murdered by the two henchmen he employed to help run his estate.” He shook his head. “A most unwise choice on his part, for they were of the worst type. They stabbed him and left his body in the garden, and robbed the house. Constabulary are scouring the countryside for them, but I fear they are long gone.”

  “Good riddance to bad rubbish.” Aunt Rebecca rose from her seat and patted her hat. “Shall we go?” she said, ignoring the magistrate who gazed at her open mouthed.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Hugh arranged for a special license, and he and Rosie were wed quietly in York. They returned to spend their wedding night at Merryville House. Rosie wanted to share her memories with Hugh and tell him all about her father and the life they shared together.

  After her bath, Rosie’s maid had assisted her into her cream silk nightgown and brushed her hair in the beautiful pink and green bedchamber where a fragrant apple wood fire burned in the hearth.

  “You may go, Sarah.”

  This had been Rosie’s mother’s room. Candles fluttered and a cold breeze stirred the green damask curtains bringing her to the open window. It was a crisp autumn night. Leaves drifted from the trees and piled up on the ground. There was the chill breath of winter in the air.

  Rosie closed the window. In her distress, she had barely registered the changing seasons. She crossed the flowery Wilton carpet. The bed was dressed with the same green damask bed hangings as the curtains, which were prettily embroidered.

  Vases of late flowering pink and white lilies sat on the delicate French side table and the dresser.

  She climbed onto the bed, her heart fluttering. Months had passed since that night in the woods. They’d had such a short time together. Her longing had only grown stronger with each passing day. She yearned to feel his silky skin against hers, and the weight of his body on hers.

  Remembering the exquisite sensations his mouth and clever hands produced, she tingled with desire and nerves, hot and restless.

  Hugh entered the room, handsome in his dressing gown of maroon silk. He sat on the bed beside her. “I have dreamed of this moment,” he said, “to have you in my bed with all the time in the world.”

  A surge of excited anticipation rushed through her, warming her nether regions. “And I, my love.”

  He fondled the silky fabric of her nightgown. “This is pretty, but I want to see you. I want to kiss you all over, down to your toes.” As he slipped the nightgown over her head, she smelt his musky scent. He began to carry out his threat, kissing her lips, her neck, roaming over her body until she moaned.

  He stood to strip off his dressing gown revealing his powerful shoulders, broad chest tapering to a slim waist and hips and long muscular
legs.

  When he joined her on the bed, Rosie stroked the fine mat of dark hair on his chest down his stomach to his erection.

  Growing curious, she wanted to take control and pushed against his chest.

  With a smile, Hugh lay back and allowed her free rein. She saw the raw need in his eyes, and knowing that he would not remain submissive for long, added a sense of exhilaration and urgency to her actions.

  Her fingers danced over his hard chest and the ridged muscles of his stomach. Loving the power she had to affect him so, she trailed kisses across his chest, tracing the outline of first one nipple then the other with her tongue. His breathed hitched as his hands stroked over the curve of her hip and her bottom.

  She ran her fingers along his erection, marveling at its length, how hot and firm it was beneath its silken sheath. The thought of it inside her caused a warm pool of moisture to gather between her legs.

  Hugh gave another hoarse groan. Her hair drifted across his chest as she stroked him.

  “I want to kiss you here,” she said, looking up at him.

  “Kiss me then,” he said his voice a growl.

  She brought her lips down onto his hot flesh. He smelled so male; her stomach gave another stronger, pull of yearning.

  His hips arched. “Rosie!”

  Hugh rolled her over onto her back. He leaned down over her, his eyes hungry. “Let’s not have this over before we begin.”

  He covered her mouth with his, gently biting her bottom lip. She drew him closer, her hand at his nape as his tongue tasting sweetly of wine searched the cavern of her mouth. His fingers entered the folds of her sex and stroked the hard pearl beneath, sending tingles flying along her nerve endings.

  She was panting and an urgent need coiled within her belly making her impatient. “I want you, Hugh.”

  Hugh pushed her legs apart and lay between them. His erection rubbed against her most sensitive spot.

  As the sensation built, she bit her lip with the urgency of it.

  “Hugh!”

  He gave a gruff laugh, and entered her with one swift push, moving slowly until he filled her.

  With a cry of satisfaction, Rosie drew her legs up around his hips. She sighed with pleasure as her body drew him in.

  Hugh pushed inside and almost withdrew, building to a steady rhythm. As their breaths mingled and their desire raged, he thrust harder. Rosie’s fingers dug into his shoulders.

  Hugh suddenly withdrew from her. Ignoring her mew of protest, he rolled over until she lay on top of him. When his mouth claimed hers, she gasped against his lips.

  “I want you to ride me,” he said. “Watching you on that horse made me lust for the day we’d do this together.”

  He settled her thighs over his hips until she straddled him.

  He pushed up into her body causing a whole new array of sensations to crash through her. She stared into his eyes as he gripped her hips and began to thrust hard, her derriere coming down against him. Rosie moaned and moved her hips and they rocked together with mounting passion.

  Hugh shaped her breasts with his hands, thumbing her nipples. “Touch yourself, Rosie.” He took her hand and placed her fingers against the hardened pearl. The very touch sent fire racing along her nerve endings. She gazed down into his eyes filled with desire and love. He thrust rhythmically into her hot and moist center. When he tweaked her sensitive nipples, she began the rush towards that elusive and powerful feeling.

  Hugh groaned and slowed, lifting her hips, almost withdrawing from her, then lowering her again. Rosie was lost, she was hardly aware of her murmured endearments. She bent to kiss him, their tongues mingling, her sensitive nipples pressed against his hard chest, and her breath shortened.

  Her passion was mirrored in his eyes. He delighted in it.

  The way he made her feel; the way she made him feel.

  Her belly tightened and waves of emotion crashed over her again and again. She cried out.

  With a groan, Hugh joined her, wrapping her tightly in his arms.

  He settled her beside him as their breathing quieted and their heartbeats slowed. Lifting a strand of her hair away from her moist cheek, he tucked it behind her ear. “I had planned to instruct you in the art of lovemaking. But I suspect you may have something to teach me.”

  “I am an eager pupil, Your Grace.” Rosie gazed into brown eyes as warm and dark as chocolate. She rested her head on his chest. “I can’t wait to return to Vale Park. Do we leave tomorrow?”

  “We do.”

  “Could we stop at an inn on the way?”

  “Of course. We shall need to change the horses.”

  Rosie giggled. “I doubt you keep your horses there. It’s not the style of inn you would ordinarily frequent. I promised to give Sally, a serving maid, there, one of my gowns and my pearls.”

  Hugh shook his head. “You have a lot to tell me, I think.”

  He gave her a heavy lidded smile, which made her pulse start to race again.

  “But not now.” His hand cupped a breast and he nibbled on her bottom lip, his voice soft. “I have stored up quite a hunger for you, darling, Rosie.”

  Epilogue

  Vale Park 1821

  Hugh had to see Rosie. Just to make sure she was all right.

  This had gone on too long. Women could die in childbirth couldn’t they? His life would end if he lost Rosie!

  Each time his steps took him to the end of the passageway, Hugh checked the long case clock. It had been an excruciatingly slow six hours since Rosie’s pains began.

  He gave a yell of frustration and swiveled on his heel, striding to the bedchamber, determined to see her, angry that he was barred from the room.

  Matthew Gayle came out and greeted him with a big smile.

  “Her Grace came through beautifully. You have a boy!”

  “Thank you, Matthew.” Hugh slapped the doctor on the back and ran inside. A lusty wail rose from the bed.

  His son!

  Rosie lay propped up on pillows, pale and lovely, the babe in her arms. Hugh smoothed the damp locks away from her forehead. The shadows beneath her lovely eyes made him anxious. “How are you, my darling?”

  “Tired and sore, but so happy.”

  He frowned. “Are you sure?”

  “I am in the pink of health, Hugh. Ask the doctor.”

  “Well, yes, Matthew has assured me…” He leaned down to kiss her. “A boy!”

  Her violet eyes danced. “’Twas what you asked for, Your Grace. You know I can deny you nothing.”

  Hugh took the bonny boy’s hand. Tiny fingers closed around one of his. The baby stopped crying and opened his eyes.

  “Welcome, Aubrey Edward Alistair, Eighth Marquess of Isleworth,” Hugh said. “I wish your grandfather was here to meet you. Look, Rosie, he has the Vale black hair.”

  She caressed the baby’s head. “It’s raven like yours. See how it glows red in the candlelight.”

  “But with your blue eyes.”

  “They won’t stay that way. They are sure to turn brown.”

  “No. They’ll remain blue,” Hugh said. “Won’t they, Nanny?”

  Nanny crossed to the bed. She took the baby from Rosie with sure hands. “Blue, and they’ll remain blue, if I know anything about it.”

  Aunt Rebecca came into the room dressed in a new primrose gown styled in the first stare of fashion, the waist more defined, and the skirt shorter displaying her patterned stockings.

  “What is the news about town?” Rosie asked. “Has the ton lost interest in how Hugh wedded the ‘ice maiden’ without ceremony in York?”

  “The news focuses on the king’s coronation,” Nanny said.

  “Isn’t that true, Lady ?”

  “Indeed. From the moment of his father’s death, the king has behaved very shabbily. He has caused a great commotion by refusing to allow his wife to enter Westminster Abbey on the day of his coronation. He employed prizefighters dressed as pages to keep her out! The Whigs were outraged. It’s Quee
n Caroline, who has come out of this looking the best.”

  Aunt Rebecca kissed Rosie’s cheek. “I declare you two love-birds ceased to interest anyone over a year ago when the rumor that you had to marry was disproved. Upon my word, you are now too countrified by half!”

  Rosie laughed. “We shall take Aubrey to town. Hugh wishes to introduce a new bill into the House of Lords concerning the rights of tenant farmers. I do like your gown, Aunt Rebecca. It is very modish.”

  Aunt Rebecca smoothed the skirt with her hands. “Madam Sophie made it for me. Pretty, isn’t it? I declare I’ll never wear black or grey again. She’s extremely busy in her London salon, my dear. Parisian dressmakers are de rigueur.”

  “And what of—”

  “Enough, Rosie!” Hugh said. “The rest of the world can wait. You should rest.”

  “Yes, a very sensible suggestion.” Nanny tucked the sleeping baby into his cradle by the bed. “You must allow us to remove his lordship to the nursery, Your Grace. You have an excellent nursery staff eager to attend him.”

  “Soon,” Rosie said. “I want to enjoy him a little longer.”

  When Nanny and Aunt Rebecca left the room, Hugh leaned down and pressed a parting kiss on her lips. “We received a letter from Clarissa, she and Edward are coming to visit with baby Emma.”

  “If Edward has his way, it will be weeks before we see them,” Rosie said, screwing up her nose. “For they will travel at a snail’s pace and stop at every respectable inn along the way.”

  Hugh grinned. “Then they’ll be here for Christmas.”

  The baby murmured in his sleep. Hugh reached down to stroke his velvet cheek. “I’ll take Aubrey to ‘Gentleman’ John Jackson for a boxing bout in Old Bond Street, when he’s older.

  And teach him to ride.”

  “But not to jump fences.”

  He laughed. “You think I can stop him when we are his parents?”

  “I’ll teach him how to treat a lady.”

  “He will learn from his sister, as I did.”

  “His sister?”

  “If you still wish for more children?”

  “Well, of course I do. We planned on at least six, did we not?” She smiled. “The doctor says we can begin very soon.”