Miss Amelia Lands a Duke (The Caversham Chronicles)

by Sandy Raven

  Amelia needed the fortification from a glass of wine and nodded. If she couldn’t bring herself to speak, it would be a long, silent dinner. Hopefully the wine would help loosen her.

  “How was your picnic among the standing stones?”

  “Lovely. Thank you for asking, Your Grace.”

  “Cav, please. It’s what my friends call me.”

  The footman brought them two glasses and Caversham handed her one. “This is one of Merivale’s best. He wasn’t keen on letting me have this bottle.” The duke took a sip and smiled. “Until I reminded him where he got his supply.”

  Amelia relished the instant warming power. She went right into her argument against their marriage, telling him that she was uncomfortable calling him by the more informal, shortened abbreviation of his title, and having presented her case, she finally asked his grace for a reconsideration of his plan.

  “Give me one night to make you see that I am right about this,” he countered.

  She wanted to roll her eyes in exasperation that he could not be sensible, but managed to refrain. “Very well. You shall have one night, but I cannot see how it will change anything. I will still be the poor, distant relation of a peer and you one of the most powerful men in the country. Aunt Katherine is right—people will be expecting me to fail, at which time they will smirk behind their gloved hands and say I was not your equal.”

  “Ah…your aunt. A more shallow and self-centered woman I don’t believe I’ve ever had the displeasure to meet.” The duke offered his arm to walk with her up the steps to the pavilion where their meal awaited them.

  “Aren’t you worried what your peers might think, marrying a woman who is not your social equal?” Surely he had at least some reservation about this match, after all he initially didn’t wish to marry her. He’d said so to her in the library.

  He seemed to think on it a moment, then asked, “Aren’t you worried what your friends might think, marrying a man who is not your social equal?”

  “But I will have landed a man so high above me as to be unreachable for most young ladies. They will think me clever or lucky. Maybe both.”

  “And I will have landed a young woman so bold, intelligent, brave, sensible, and attractive, as to make me feel truly alive for the first time since my wife died ten years ago. I just hope you will not be disappointed with the short number of years we have remaining, as I am so much older than you.”

  A tear stung Amelia’s eye as he spoke. Aunt Katherine was right, he was besotted with her. With Amelia Caroline Elizabeth Manners-Sutton, the plain-spoken, plain-clothed, bookish daughter of a gentleman who worked in trade.

  She felt a warm rush of emotion toward him. It must have taken a man as powerful as he a great deal of strength to open himself up to her, to potentially face her rejection. He didn’t appear the type of person who would presume she would agree to his proposal simply for who he was. And after the night in the library, he must know she wasn’t the kind of lady who would marry a man for his money, power, or position. Her pride prevented her from selling herself in such a manner.

  Without a doubt she was attracted to him, and she felt he was to her as well or else why would he press the matter? How could she not accept the gift of this man’s time for whatever time God had planned for them?

  She looked up into his gray eyes, brighter than her own, and smiled in return. “Is this your proposal, Your Grace?”

  “And if it is?”

  “Then I shall think on it.” She looked at the two empty place settings on the small table. “And, if you are serious, you should know I cannot think while I’m hungry.”

  Her future husband nodded to a footman who began to remove covers from the platters on the sideboard, while he held out her chair. The footmen served them course after course, and throughout their meal, the duke was as charming as he’d always been. He asked her questions about the work she’d done restoring books with her father, and he gave her free rein to do what she would in his library which had books several hundred years old, he said. After dinner, as they sat opposite each other in the open pavilion, he told her about his son, and how proud he was of him. Then he told her about his daughter.

  “Your biggest challenge I fear will be gaining the acceptance of my daughter, Elise.” He gave a pensive sigh. “When I was last home, she told me she was going to develop a breed of horses with wings so she could fly away. She plays with the children of the servants as there are no other children around, and has some rather peculiar habits which I have not put a stop to, though I probably should have after she frightened away the last governess.”

  Amelia first wondered if she should be concerned for her own safety, then wondered if the man was marrying her to give his out of control young daughter a mother. Of course she knew without a doubt she could handle whatever the girl threw in her direction. Almost nine years older than her brother, Amelia had practically raised Harry after her mother died, and her brother was no easy boy to manage.

  At Amelia’s curious gaze, he went on to describe those habits. “She has been known to wear boys’ clothing, ride astride, and climb trees. She can swim like a fish and fish like man. As intelligent as she is, if Elise spent half as much time at her lessons as she does in the barn with the horses or playing chess with my head groom, she would have one of the most well-rounded educations a woman could ever have.”

  She tucked her chin and turned away, trying to hide her smile behind her hand. When she composed herself she met his gaze with a cheerful grin. “I believe your daughter and I shall be great friends, Your Grace.”

  “Cav.”

  “But, I—”

  “You will be my wife.” The whispered word caressed her heart and for a moment, she thought she might really be happy with Cav. Thought perhaps they might have a future together.

  He appeared pensive a moment as he stared at the bottom of his empty wine goblet, their dinner plates having long-been removed. “Lizzie used to call me by my Christian name. I think…to keep our relationship separate from my previous one…for now, I’d prefer Cav.”

  To Amelia, it was tantamount to placing a divider between them, though she could tell he was trying to make an effort. For that reason alone she ceded to his request. For now.

  “If you wish for me to address you as Englebert, I shall, because you ask it of me.”

  He laughed, a true and hearty sound that warmed her soul. “Who is Englebert?”

  “No one. A name I pulled out of my head.”

  “Hideous name Englebert. I’d much prefer Zeus or Odin. They have a nice, manly ring to it, no?”

  Now it was her turn to laugh. “Gods? You probably were better off to marry my aunt.”

  He reached a hand across the table and took one of her hers in his big, warm one, sending tiny tremors coursing through her, coming to an end in her sex, making her wet with desire. “It was you I wanted from the minute you tried to defend your aunt’s horrible behavior the day we met here, outside this pavilion. Then last night, in the library. The kiss. The slap, not just once but twice. I deserved both. You were brave enough to demand respect, not just from me, but also from your aunt. Like Lizzie, you called me on my behavior and for that behavior I am so sorry. I realized after speaking with Lady Rawdon that you are exactly what I need in my life.

  “All night long I kept thinking about our kiss and how you made me feel. I knew it wasn’t because we were caught or because you were compromised. It was because I wanted more of your kisses and more of you.”

  How could she tell him that she too had thought of nothing else since the night before. All day, as she walked about that grassy field amongst those ancient stones, her emotions bobbed back and forth like a teeter-totter. Yes, she was undeniably attracted to the man, but she didn’t want him marrying her out of some sense of chivalry or honor. She wanted to be desired by him, because this man’s touch, and his kiss had aroused her as no other had. And now that she was satisfied that he truly wanted her, she was willing t
o become his wife. But one thing was bothered her still, and it was important to their future.

  “I want children,” she said. “Do you think that’s still possible?”

  He turned red as he coughed, then barked out in laughter. “I will give it my best effort. In fact, you may—um—test the goods and if you find them…ah, satisfactory, you can make a decision.”

  A warm flush of embarrassment rushed to her face. She wasn’t exactly sure if it was the wine they’d consumed or the intimate and romantic setting with the scent of blooming flowers in the manicured garden around the pavilion steps, but Amelia found herself desiring more of this man and his touch. She wondered what he’d say, or even do, if she were to take him up on his offer. Would it shock him? Would he cry off thinking her too bold, even after telling her that he’d admired that about her?

  Amelia decided she had nothing to lose, and everything to gain. With as straight and determined face as she could manage she had to clarify. “You’re saying that I can, ah…test the goods, and see if they work? And if they are to my…satisfaction, I can then decide whether or not we marry?”

  He stared into her eyes, his expression perhaps a tad serious for the light-hearted teasing they’d been sharing. “I am saying exactly that, my lady.”

  Amelia looked away, nervous and excited at the same time. She wanted this man as she had never physically wanted another in her life. She craved this man’s kiss again. Just as her married friends said would happen when she met the right man.

  Tilting her head away, she gave him a coy look from under narrowed, skeptical eyelids. “You have me at a great disadvantage, Your Grace. You know that I have no experience in this…realm. So how will I know if I am…satisfied?”

  He leaned back in his chair and gave her a grin that could be called self-satisfying. “Believe me, my dear, you will know. I promise.”

  “Then let us get on with it.” The words just tumbled from her mouth. Amelia didn’t know if it was the wine talking or her wanton body, but she thrummed with sensual excitement as she tried to say the words that would seal her fate about the thing she’d waited her entire adult life to experience.

  “I have a decision to make and would rather not waste any more of our time contemplating.” She could not believe how brazen she felt as she held his gaze. “I’d rather be doing.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Cav led Amelia through Merivale’s study and up the servant’s stairwell to the floor where his rooms were. He was thankful for the dimly-lit hallway and dark staircase. It wouldn’t do for his bride-to-be to discover that he was just as nervous as she. His cock strained against his breeches, eager to please her. It had been years since he cared about a woman this much. And this one made him feel more alive than any mistress or widow with whom he’d ever consorted.

  She tried to continue up another flight he stopped her. “We would be more comfortable in my room, don’t you think?”

  She gave him a look that could only come from a virgin unsure of what she was about, then she gave him a nod and allowed him to lead her the rest of the way down the blue and gold carpet to his rooms. He had to make this experience for her pleasurable, make her want it as much as he. Only when the door was shut, did she speak. “I’m glad we didn’t run into anyone. It would have been awkward.”

  Cav agreed then went to the sideboard and poured another glass of wine, this time a sweet red that seemed to be her favorite. He handed her the glass. “Do you have any reservation about what we are going to do?” She shook her head. “Good. Merivale and his wife know we are about to wed. You need not fear I will abandon you after tonight.”

  “I am not afraid,” she said softly, yet without reservation.

  “Good,” he replied.

  Cav watched her raise the wine to her lips and sip. When she lowered the glass, she licked her lips. Their gazes met and the erotic image was beginning to pain him. He wanted to kiss the flavor of the wine from her lips, to taste her sweet innocence and worship it.

  Foster, his valet for most of his adult life, entered from the side door and Cav waved him away. He would have warned the man away tonight, had he known this is what they would be doing.

  Amelia was staring at him. “I’m surprised you told our hosts about me already.” The slight quiver in her voice told him she was nervous, even if she didn’t admit it.

  “I had to.” He hoped he sounded reassuring to her ears. He didn’t want her to fear him, or worse, to flee. “I needed his help getting some messages out and you needed a maid. I would have moved you down here where you belong with the other guests, except that we’re leaving tomorrow. And I’d like to do so without drawing suspicion.”

  She held out the glass for him. He set in back on the sideboard and came to stand before her. “I desire you, Amelia,” he whispered as he pushed a tendril that had fallen from her chignon behind her ear. He’d wanted to do that since the wind caught it earlier in the pavilion and blew it into her face. Taking one of her hands in his, he kissed the palm.

  Her hand was soft, with tiny calluses on two fingers of one hand. He looked at them closer.

  She pulled them away, tucking them at her side. “They’re from sewing pages together before we bind on the covers.”

  He lifted her chin, and gave her a reassuring smile. “I’m not judging, Amelia. Never that.”

  He stared down at her full, moist lips. His cock stirred in his breeches each time she ran her tongue over them. He could wait no longer.

  “I’ve always believed if you have a passion, you should live it.” Taking his own advice, he bent his head and kissed her. Living his passion for the first time in years. Tasting her sweetness, Cav felt more alive with desire than he had during his weekly visits to any of his mistresses. In fact, he’d not felt this way since Lizzie. That was how he knew it was right.

  As he kissed her, his hands began to work the tiny buttons on the back of the worn black dress, making a mental note to find her a proper modiste. Buttons on the back of a lady’s dress should not come undone so easily. Then again, given the antique style, he realized the thing was likely almost as old as she. Cav peeled the bodice away and began on the laces of her stays. Once those were removed, it was just a matter of a few more buttons and the dress and stays fell away, leaving his bride-to-be standing in her threadbare shift. She was beautiful—with womanly curves and an innocent expression at the same time. And soon she would be his.

  She held his gaze as she began to remove the pins in her hair. When the dark honey blond mass cascaded down the slope of her back, his breath hitched. She was captivating. He began to remove his coat, a great feat to accomplish alone, but he was properly motivated and determined, and within minutes he was in his smallclothes. He felt a little awkward now. He hadn’t done this in a well-lit room with a lady in many years and with a virgin only once. Devil take him, but he wasn’t sure how to proceed. She was going to be his wife for heaven’s sake, he should feel more comfortable baring himself to her. But he was much older than she, and his body wasn’t what it once was. Would she find him unattractive?

  He took her small, delicate hand in his and placed it over his heart. “Touch me, Amelia. Feel how I tremble.” The warmth of her palm seeped through his shirt, jolting him, making him feel alive.

  “Why are you the nervous one? I’m the one who’s never done this before.”

  “I’ve never done this with you.”

  Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears. “I’m not unlike other women, Your Grace. And you are so kind to take my considerations into account that I think we shall get along very well.” She stepped away from him and lifted the chemise over her head, baring herself to him in the candle-lit room. “Remember, your mission is to make me say yes to marrying you.”

  Her full breasts were high and firm, the hard peaks of her nipples beckoned to be laved by his tongue. He scooped her up in his arms, carrying her the short distance to his bed. She was soft all over and he wanted to just drive into her and take what s
he was offering him, but he knew that he had to go slow if he wanted to have a chance at a happy marital life.

  “I believe,” he said as he laid her on the bed, “I have enough experience to make that happen tonight.” Stepping away, he extinguished all but one candle and removed the remainder of his clothing. He joined her between the cool sheets and turned onto his side facing her. “What we’re about to do might be a bit uncomfortable at first, but I promise if you can get beyond the initial discomfort it will get better.”

  He lightly stroked her upper arm. “I will do everything possible to prepare your body for mine and to make this pleasurable for you.”

  Cav felt a tremor pass through her, shaking him. He’d only had one other virgin in his life, and his bride-to-be was behaving incredibly brave for a woman about to give her innocence to a man. It made him proud to have her. Of course, if she wished to back out now, it would pain him terribly. And as difficult as it would be, he would respect that decision. He had to know she still wanted this. “Are you certain?”

  She pushed the sheet away that she’d covered herself with and rolled onto her back. “I…feel things when I am with you. I cannot explain except to say that I want more.”

  A low growl slipped from him as her words exploded in his mind. He couldn’t touch her enough, couldn’t kiss her enough, and couldn’t love her enough. He wanted to possess her—not just her body, he wanted her heart, her mind and even her very soul as he didn’t think he could be complete without her. He bent to take one of her hardened nipples into his mouth as his hands roved over her smooth, soft flesh, stroking, grasping, squeezing. He felt things with her too, erotically hedonistic things, but was afraid if he performed some of them she would be repulsed. So he would save those acts for later. Right now this ripe woman, this virgin, was in his bed begging him to make her accept his proposal, and he knew just how.

  He raised his head and blew across her wet nipple, making the bud even tighter. He traced a finger down from her chin, between her ample breasts and over the soft planes of her belly to rest below her navel. “Have you ever touched yourself?” His palm cupped her womanhood. She sucked in a breath, held it. “Here?” Cav felt her heart racing as he slipped a finger into her wetness and slid it upward to touch her tight bud. Her body arched upward into his hand.