When a Duke Loves a Woman

by Lorraine Heath

  She shoved aside all of Finn’s warnings. Even knowing she could never be more than a plaything to Thorne, she couldn’t help but believe that to have him for a little while would be better than to never have him at all. She didn’t want to die an old maid, never having known passion or desire.

  He trailed his mouth over her chin and along the length of her throat. “You undo me,” he rasped. “Come to my estate and I’ll show you stars in the heavens and elsewhere.”

  His words made no sense to her when he was showing her stars now. “I beg your pardon?”

  “You can’t see the stars tonight because of the fog. There is seldom fog at my estate. And it is truly quiet there. No occasional clop of a horse, no squeaky wheel, no scurrying vermin.”

  “I’m not so very brave.”

  He drew back, and she rather wished she’d kept that truth to herself. “Before I opened my tavern, I was terrified of making a mistake, of letting my family down, of misjudging my ability to manage things. I still worry that my success is a fluke. And the thought of leaving London frightens me as well.”

  Combing his fingers through the strands at the side of her head, he carefully avoided her injury from the night before. “I wouldn’t allow any harm to come to you.”

  “I know.” She wrapped one arm around his neck, while pressing her mouth to the underside of his jaw. Such strength there. How could a man be naught but strength and power anywhere she touched? “But I’m not yet ready to leave London, not even for a few hours.”

  “Then let’s do something in London. Let’s take Robin to the zoological gardens, so he can see in person all the animals that fascinate him.”

  Ah, clever man, to suggest something that if she refused would mean denying pleasure to someone else. Besides, Robin could serve as chaperone so they couldn’t get up to any naughtiness. Although she didn’t know how effective he might be or if he might be too late. She was incredibly tempted to invite Thorne into her flat, but she knew any invitation would involve more than merely stepping over a threshold. It would involve making their way into her bedchamber and into her bed. “Not tomorrow. I have something I have to do. The day after.”

  With only his thumb and forefinger, he took hold of her chin and moved her face away from where she’d buried it against his neck, inhaling his marvelous fragrance. “The day after.” Then his mouth was back on hers, sealing the promise.

  She scraped her hands up into his hair, grateful he wasn’t the one with a healing abrasion on his head. It was nice not to have to worry about causing him discomfort, at least there. She rather suspected his leg might be aching by now with her weight still on it. If it were, he gave no indication because he explored the confines of her mouth as though he’d never visited there before, so thoroughly, so intently, inviting her to return the favor. He tasted of the dark, rich whisky he’d nursed for most of the night. She was glad he wasn’t three sheets in the wind, that his actions weren’t spurred by the liberation that spirits tended to provide. She was grateful if any intoxication was taking place, being with her was providing it because being so near to him, having his mouth working its magic made her light-headed, as though she’d indulged in the finest of liquors.

  Warmth sluiced through her, and her body tingled in private places, all the places her mum had warned her men fancied, all the spots she’d carefully guarded. If she could have sealed them off behind iron doors with locks, she would have. Yet even as she had the thought, she knew he possessed the key that would have sprung every door free, even the one to her heart, and that terrified her most of all.

  She feared it was already his for the taking.

  He drew back, and she nearly followed, nearly latched her mouth back onto his. “I should leave, while I’m still able.”

  She nodded. “I’ll see you the day after tomorrow.”

  “I shall count the minutes.”

  She very nearly laughed. The aristocracy could be so charming in the way they spoke. It was little wonder people adored them.

  Together, they helped each other to their feet. He walked her the short distance to her flat. Reaching into her pocket, she removed her key, surprised when he took it from her, and unlocked her door.

  “Not because I don’t think you can do it for yourself,” he said, “but because I enjoy doing small things for you. Inside with you. I won’t leave until I hear the lock turn.”

  “Good night, Thorne.”

  “Sleep well, princess.”

  She walked over the threshold, closed the door, and leaned against it, tempted beyond reason to invite him in. Her body was thrumming with needs, needs she knew he alone could satisfy. With a trembling hand, she turned the lock. With an aching heart she listened to his footsteps as he left.

  Chapter 18

  “Caw, Gillie, ye got bubbies!” Robin exclaimed as she walked into the kitchen through the backdoor close to the time for them to open.

  “You don’t say that to a lady, Robin,” she stated tartly.

  “Where’d they come from?”

  Rather than answer, she said, “We’re going to the zoological gardens with the duke tomorrow.”

  “That’s where all the animals are.”

  “That’s right. So tonight we’ll be taking a bath.”

  “But it’s not Saturday.” She always made him bathe every Saturday. It was a condition she’d put in place when she’d agreed to let him sleep inside her tavern. In addition, he had to keep his hands and face clean. Clothes had to be changed every two days. She paid the woman who laundered her clothing to launder his.

  “I know, but it’s what one does when going out with a duke.” She turned to find Hannah smiling at her.

  “About time you set those puppies free.”

  “I was hoping no one would notice.” That morning, she’d gone to a shop and purchased some undergarments. The silk and lace with purple ribbons made her feel rather feminine which was an odd thing when she was the only one who knew what all was there. This afternoon she intended to go in search of a new blouse and skirt for tomorrow’s outing. Perhaps a bonnet.

  “They’re going to notice, love. A particular duke especially.”

  She almost blurted that he’d already seen them. “I’m running behind this morning. We need to get open.”

  “You might want to check the taproom first.”

  That statement caused apprehension to rush through her, and it wasn’t at all quieted when she walked into the main room and saw all the flowers—a vase of different assorted blooms on every table.

  “Aren’t they beautiful, Gillie?” Polly asked.

  “Looks like a bloody park in here.”

  “Your gent sent them,” Roger said.

  She almost reiterated that he wasn’t her gent, although she was beginning to feel as though he might be—just a little. He hadn’t gone home with Polly. He’d been content to sit with her on the steps and indulge in a couple of kisses. And he’d sent flowers. Enough for every table. He had to have counted them, made a note, remembered how many there were. What a silly thing that was to bring her such pleasure. He’d gone to the trouble to count her tables. “Cheers the place up a bit.”

  “Suppose it does at that,” Roger said.

  “We need to get the doors open.”

  He edged by her, stopped, looked back. “Notice you’re not telling me he ain’t your gent.”

  “You’re getting a bit bold. I’d be careful if I were you, else you might find yourself let go.”

  “You deserve someone who does nice things for you.”

  “They’re just flowers.” But it was amazing how they made her smile.

  And how her smile grew when Thorne walked through the door later that evening. She poured whisky into a glass for him and reached the table where he’d been heading almost as soon as he did. “I wasn’t expecting to see you until tomorrow.”

  “Why would I deny myself the pleasure of watching you?”

  Such sweet words. She wanted to believe them, but h
er mum had warned her so many times about honeyed words. Yet she couldn’t seem to stop herself from believing in Thorne. “Thank you for the flowers. They’re all quite lovely.”

  “I’m glad you enjoyed them.” His gaze never wandered from hers, and she wondered if he’d even noticed she wasn’t bound up as tight as a drum.

  “Robin is excited about tomorrow.”

  “As am I.”

  She set his glass on the table. “I need to get back to business.”

  But before she could make her retreat, he stepped forward and touched his fingers to her cheek. His gaze dipped only a fraction of a second. “I like the new look. I hope you spoiled yourself with silk.”

  She nodded stupidly.

  “You’re a beautiful woman, Gillie. I’m not certain you know that, but I intend to prove it to you.”

  He loved the way the blush crept over her face whenever he complimented her. As he sat watching her work, he found it difficult to believe she’d gone her entire life without a man appreciating all that she was. Compliments were foreign to her. He suspected no one had ever given her flowers. He wanted to lavish praise, gifts, and kisses on her but suspected too many would make her suspicious.

  He hadn’t planned to come here tonight, but had arrived at his club and been unable to motivate himself to go inside where all was staid and proper and people spoke in low voices. There was something addictive about this place, about the energy and the excitement, and the absolute joy of being here. Oh, a few blokes were moping about, but for the most part, everyone seemed cheerful.

  She brought happiness out in people. He thought she should expand her properties, open another tavern in a different area of London. But if she wasn’t there, would it be lacking?

  Her brothers weren’t here tonight, and to his surprise he found that to be a disappointment. He’d enjoyed his time with them, mostly because they’d been willing to tell tales about her. About the many scrapes she’d gotten into, the many times she’d gotten them out of a troubling situation. A dormouse she’d kept as a pet. She had such a gentle and giving heart he suspected she’d want to release all the animals from their enclosures on the morrow. He was very much looking forward to the outing.

  Again, he stayed until closing and helped out where he could. She liked that he wasn’t the sort who did little more than sit around, waiting to be pampered. Of course, based upon the muscles she’d seen the first night, she’d assumed as much, but still it was somewhat satisfying to know she’d accurately judged him. And if she’d been right about that, perhaps she was correct in her other assessments. He wouldn’t take advantage of her, and if their relationship continued, while there might come a time when he would be forced to bruise her heart, he wouldn’t break it.

  She could go into this situation knowing it would come with a cost, a cost she was willing to pay. She wondered if the woman who had given birth to her had once thought the same, if in the end she’d been left with regrets. So easy to make decisions without knowing precisely what the future held.

  This time when he walked her up the steps, she didn’t have to ask him if he wanted to sit with her for a while. He merely took her hand, assisted her in sitting, and settled down beside her, hips, thighs, shoulders touching. Perhaps it was because she was so heartened by the flowers or the prospect of tomorrow’s outing, but she laid her head against his shoulder. Reaching over, he took her hand, threaded their fingers together, and placed their joined hands on his thigh.

  She took a deep breath and released a long, slow sigh of contentment. “I was thinking we should make a greater effort to find your watch.”

  “Are you searching for an excuse to keep me near, Gillie?” he asked quietly, his voice smooth and hushed, his breath ruffling her hair since his head was so near to hers.

  Perhaps she was. He was certain to grow bored with simply sitting on the steps with her, and while he’d suggested an outing with horses and one to the zoological gardens, she wasn’t convinced he’d return once the latter was done. She wasn’t quite ready to give up her time with him, regardless of how reckless it might be to continue to keep him within easy reach. “I simply know it means a great deal to you and I hate that it was stolen, especially as the incident happened behind my tavern. I feel responsible.”

  “Only that Charlie fellow and his cronies are responsible, and my solicitor assures me they will spend a good bit of time incarcerated due to their attack upon my person, especially after I speak out at their trial.”

  “They were unwise to jump a duke.”

  “Indeed. Especially one who had the good sense to be in an area where he could be rescued by a lovely damsel.”

  Laughing low, she considered turning into the curve of his shoulder, to hide away from the sentiments she couldn’t quite believe were directed at her. “I’ve never been called that before.”

  “You should be. Every day.”

  Not knowing quite how to respond to that, she straightened and stared into the distant street, where the light was dim and the fog would begin rolling in. A comfortable silence wove around them.

  “What if you’re mistaken? What if a man did find himself falling in love with you?” he asked quietly.

  Was he referring to himself? That wasn’t possible. It was one thing to believe in unicorns, another entirely to think a man such as he could love her, although she couldn’t help but believe that he did fancy her a little. She certainly fancied him. “Why would he be silly enough to do that?”

  “Gillie, half the men who come into your tavern are in love with you.”

  A burst of laughter escaped with the absurdity of his statement. “They love the beer I keep in stock to pour for them.”

  “They love the manner in which you make them feel special. You do it without even trying, without even being aware you’re doing it. It’s simply part of your nature. I’m flabbergasted you haven’t had an abundance of marriage proposals.”

  Pressing her hands together, she put them between her knees, squeezed. “A proposal would be for naught, as I’d not accept it. I’m not giving my tavern to a gent. I’ve worked too hard and too long to make it what it is. The law would hand it over to my husband as soon as I said, ‘I do.’”

  “You don’t think a man who loves you would take advantage, surely.”

  “I’m not willing to risk it. Once he had possession of the property, he could sell it and I’d have no say in the matter. I won’t be dependent upon a man. My mum was, then her husband died and she had nothing. She took in by-blows for a while. People paid her pittance for that, not enough to keep us alive. She found ways to make do. They weren’t always pleasant. So marriage is not for me.”

  “What of children?”

  She’d long ago accepted they’d not grace her life. “I suppose I view the tavern as my child. I’m sorry if I sounded angry regarding the property laws. I don’t blame you for them.”

  “I do have a bit of say. Just not a lot. However, I shall keep what I’ve learned tonight—and your passion for it—in mind when next Parliament is in session.”

  “Get the law changed so women can keep their property and they’ll be falling at your feet. Although I suspect they do that anyway.”

  “Hardly.”

  She nudged her shoulder against his. “You’re being modest. I’d wager you’ve fallen in love a half dozen times at least.”

  “Not even once.”

  Shifting her backside, she twisted in order to see him more clearly. Even with only the dimmest of lighting, she could make out his features, perhaps because she had memorized them so thoroughly. “I know you didn’t love the woman you were going to marry, but surely in your youth, there was someone.”

  “No.” His voice was low but absent of pity. “To be honest, Gillie, I don’t know if I have it within me to love. At some point, I loved my mother. I must have. It is a child’s inclination to do so, but she has always been unapproachable and I viewed her from a distance. I was closer to my father, but he was strict and
demanding . . . and then he went mad.”

  She was stunned. He couldn’t mean what she thought he did. “You mean insane?”

  “Indeed. I wasn’t quite ten, but I recall him ranting and raving, terrifying in his madness, until Mother would have the servants lock him in his rooms. I seldom was allowed to visit with him, but when he was on his deathbed, I noticed scars about his wrists, so I suspect there were times they tied him down to prevent him from harming himself or others.”

  She retook his hand and squeezed. “Oh, Thorne, I’m so sorry.”

  “It was long ago but between the two of them, I learned love disappoints. And it was drilled into me that I would marry for land, not love. I’ve liked women, Gillie. I’ve liked some of them a great deal, but love seems to involve a good deal more than simply liking.”

  “It requires sacrifice.” With another sigh, she placed her head back on his shoulder. “I’ve never loved anyone either, at least no one beyond family. Now I don’t want to love a gent because it would mean sacrificing my tavern.”

  “Makes us rather perfect for each other, then doesn’t it?”

  Perfect and yet imperfect. She lifted her head. “You are a danger to my heart.”

  “No more than you are to mine.”

  When he took her mouth, she banked her fears, her trepidations, and welcomed him as though it were impossible that they might ever hurt each other. The future ceased to exist, to concern her. All that mattered was the present, this moment, now. The way her body tightened with need, every cell reaching for him because he alone could provide the sustenance needed for continued existence.

  It was sinfully sweet, the riotous sensations that bombarded her and swept through her like an overzealous storm that pelted the earth. Any wise woman would seek shelter, and yet she knew she could find no better refuge than within the circle of his arms.

  Cradling her breast, kneading it gently, he emitted a feral growl, one of ownership and possession. The orb she’d always considered such a bother tightened and grew heavy, sending sparks of pleasure throughout her, and she understood at last the value of silk over binding. Binding would have prevented him from squeezing, from testing the pliancy. The silk rubbed over her nipple, not abrading but teasing, causing it to pucker. She’d worn clothing like a shield; now she merely wanted to be liberated and thought he would be extremely skilled at liberating.