The Corinthian Duke

by Emma V. Leech

  “The Rutland Arms, I think,” Bertie said, concern in his eyes. “You’ll have a care, Oscar. It wouldn’t do to start a scandal, and Ranleigh’s pretty neat with his fists.”

  “Don’t worry,” Oscar replied darkly. “I’ll not embarrass anyone.”

  No one but himself, at any rate.

  Chapter 18

  “Wherein revelations and a surprise for Ella.”

  Oscar was relieved to discover Ranleigh arriving at The Rutland Arms only a short time after he’d arrived himself. He’d not spent long with Ella after Oscar had left then. Was that a good sign?

  They were shown into a private parlour at Ranleigh’s request, and the man ordered brandy. They stood, silent, the atmosphere brittle until the maid had returned with a decanter and glasses and left them alone.

  Ranleigh raised the decanter towards him with a questioning gesture and Oscar nodded. The urge to grasp hold of it and smash it over Ranleigh’s head was tantalising, but he was a bloody gentleman and he’d act like one.

  Ranleigh slid a glass with a generous measure in it across the dark wood table and then sat, looking quite at ease.

  “I asked you once to stay away from my wife,” Oscar said, his tone far calmer than he expected. The tumult raging in his chest was demanding action, not words, but he’d not mess this up by acting without thinking, not again.

  “You did,” Ranleigh agreed and then took a sip of his brandy, considering Oscar over the rim of his glass. “And then you ran away like a frightened boy. Someone had to pick up the pieces and help her make her way in society.”

  That Ranleigh was correct made Oscar’s stomach twist with guilt.

  Oscar downed a large swallow of his brandy and prepared to follow it with a large measure of his own pride.

  “You warned me once, Ranleigh. You told me I had to stop acting like a spoilt boy and grow up, take charge of my life.”

  Ranleigh nodded, curiosity in his eyes. “I did, yes, and got a mouthful of abuse for my trouble. I also told you to break the engagement with Pearl as you were ill-suited. It seems you did neither until it was too late.”

  Oscar nodded, his fists clenched as tension sang along his shoulders.

  “It isn’t too late,” he said, hearing the fear behind the words: the sickening suspicion that he might be wrong. “I can make it right again. I will, Ranleigh, and if you get in the way, I swear to God, I won’t bother coming to speak with you. I’ll kill you, no matter the consequences.”

  To his surprise, Ranleigh smiled then, and not the supercilious mocking smile that Oscar might have expected, and at which Ranleigh was so bloody adept. No. The man actually looked pleased.

  “Well, about bloody time,” Ranleigh said with a sigh. He kicked a chair out from under the table and jerked his head at it. “Sit down, Rothborn. You’re making the place look untidy, and giving me a crick in the neck.”

  A little stunned, Oscar scowled at him, but he did as he was asked.

  Ranleigh leaned across the table, his eyes intent, voice harsh with a warning note. “The Duchess Rothborn’s reputation and person is above reproach. There is nothing between us other than friendship. If you want the truth with no bark on, I believe she views me in a rather avuncular light. A lowering suspicion for one of my reputation, I grant you, but you’ve swallowed your pride today, so I’ll give you the same courtesy.”

  Oscar let out a breath. The weight that had become increasingly heavy over the past days—and had threatened to crush him on seeing his wife with the duke this morning—fell away. Not that he was out of the woods yet, but perhaps he was not quite so far into them as he’d feared.

  He looked up to find Ranleigh watching him.

  “You think me a fool,” Oscar said, surprised when Ranleigh shook his head.

  Ranleigh laughed at his expression. “No. I think you young and spoiled. In fact, exactly as I was at your age.”

  He gave Oscar a warm smile that Oscar felt he was far from deserving.

  “I very nearly made a spectacular mistake at your age, and your father was kind enough to haul me out of the flames before I got badly burned. I’d hoped to do the same for you, but I’m afraid I lack the man’s tact.”

  Oscar snorted, remembering the lecture Ranleigh had favoured him with a few years back. It made him blush to even think of it. Not least because Oscar had known that he was right.

  “I’ve never been the villain of this piece, Oscar,” Ranleigh said, his voice grave and his gaze softening now Oscar’s desire to eviscerate him seemed to have passed. “And the only reason your wife came to me was to ask my advice on how to make you desire her.”

  The words hit Oscar so hard he almost choked on his brandy.

  “What?”

  Ranleigh shook his head. “Youth really is wasted on the young,” he said mournfully.

  For a moment, Oscar just stared at him, too astonished to speak. Ranleigh raised one eyebrow in amusement. Oscar let out a breath and gave an unsteady laugh. He discovered he could feel almost friendly towards the man now he knew the truth.

  “Oh, come, Ranleigh, you’re hardly in your dotage,” he protested, knowing damn well the man was one of the most sought-after bachelors of the ton, and not just for his wealth and title.

  “Really? You astonish me. I cannot help but feel my time is over when I’m reduced to giving advice. Good advice too, damn you.”

  Oscar leaned forward, staring at the man he’d resented for such a long time, and knowing he’d only felt that resentment because he knew Ranleigh saw through him.

  “I’m listening,” he said, serious now.

  Ranleigh smiled. “Go home to your wife, you numbskull, and don’t ever take her for granted again.”

  “I won’t,” Oscar replied, meaning it with all his heart. He got to his feet and held out his hand. “Thank you.”

  Ranleigh shook his hand but, as Oscar went to pull away, he held it in his grasp.

  “A warning, young Rothborn. Ella is an extraordinary woman. There’s plenty of us who have seen that. If you mess this up again… I’ll be only too happy to switch roles and play the villain.”

  Oscar’s jaw tightened a little, but he saw the warning for what it was.

  “You’d best find another leading lady, Ranleigh. This one is about to discover the hero may be an idiot, but he’s learned his lesson.”

  Ranleigh gave an amused snort and nodded his approval. “Good luck, Rothborn. I look forward to the happy conclusion.”

  ***

  “Oh, Mintie! Mintie, something terrible has happened.”

  Ella flew into her mothers-in-law’s parlour and the woman started in alarm, throwing her embroidery to one side with a cry of distress.

  “Ella!” she exclaimed as Ella threw herself at her feet and sobbed into her lap.

  She felt a hand on her hair, stroking the curls. “Darling girl, whatever is the matter? Tell me at once.”

  “Oh, Mintie, I’ve been such a f-fool,” Ella stammered, wondering if she could be any more miserable than she was in this moment. “I asked Ranleigh to meet me, alone. I needed his advice, you see, on what to do with Oscar but… but… Oscar and Bertie were out riding, and they saw!” she cried, beside herself now.

  She took the handkerchief that Mintie pressed into her hand and wiped her eyes to no avail; the tears kept falling.

  “Oh, don’t you see? I’ve ruined what little chance I had. He’ll think I’ve been dallying with Ranleigh, but I haven’t, Mintie, upon my honour, I haven’t.”

  “Oh, my word,” Mintie said, covering her heart with one slender hand. “You did give me a fright, you naughty creature. I thought something dreadful had happened.”

  “Did you not hear what I just said?” Ella demanded, incensed by this lack of reaction. Did she not realise the danger?

  “Of course, love,” Mintie said, perfectly placid as she reached for her embroidery once more.

  “Then how can you just sit there? We must go at once, for all we know Oscar could be f
ighting a duel at this moment.”

  Mintie shot her a doubtful look. “I think that rather unlikely, Ella, dear,” she said, still unruffled by Ella’s terror. “Ranleigh is such a sensible creature. He’ll explain it all to Oscar, don’t you worry.”

  She gave Ella a reassuring pat on the hand.

  “Why don’t you ring for some tea and cake? Tea and cake always puts things in perspective.”

  Ella stared at her, thinking her the most unnatural mother in the entire world. How could she be so unconcerned? Ranleigh felt certain Oscar would call upon him, and he’d not come home, so….

  “Ella!” Mintie said, her tone reproving. “Do stop fretting, you silly goose. It will do Oscar good to have the ground shaken a little. Perhaps he’ll buck his ideas up. And, as for you, what on earth possessed you to go to Ranleigh anyway? Why didn’t you ask me? I thought I had been quite helpful in advising you on the best way to go on.”

  “Oh, yes,” Ella replied, penitent. “Only, I… I didn’t want to ask Oscar’s mother about… about….”

  Mintie stared at her and then went off into peals of laughter. “Oh, oh,” she said, gasping for breath. “Poor, darling Ranleigh. He must be feeling like an aged uncle. Oh, Ella, you funny creature! What a trial you are to the poor man.”

  Ella scowled at her, not finding her in the least amusing. She got to her feet, stalked away, and rang the bell with some vigour.

  An hour later and full to the brim with as much tea and cake as she could endure, Ella paced the corridors of Chancery in a quake so fierce that her stomach churned. She felt sick with fear, despite Mintie’s words. Had Oscar called Ranleigh out? Had they fought? Was one of them bleeding to death even now? Even if that wasn’t the case, the prospect of facing Oscar at all was terrifying enough. She stifled a cry and put her hands to her cheeks.

  “Calm down, calm down,” she muttered under her breath as she paced. “You’re not a stupid child, you’re a blasted duchess, so blasted well act like one.”

  Cursing herself seemed to steady her a little but, as she turned back to retrace her steps, the front door opened, and Oscar walked in… all in one piece.

  “Oscar!” she cried, picking up her skirts and rushing across the grand hall like the hoyden her father had accused her of being.

  She flung her arms around his neck with such force that Oscar stumbled backwards, his boots slipping on the marble floor as the two of them tumbled to the ground in a heap.

  Wilkes stared, aghast, unsure of what to do as Ella pressed kisses to Oscar’s cheek.

  “Oh, Oscar! Oscar, I was so frightened. Tell me you didn’t kill him.”

  “Ella!” Oscar exclaimed, laughing, though there was a warning note to his voice as he waved Wilkes and two wide-eyed footmen away. “Honestly, love, we’re trying not to create any more scandal, can you try to keep that in your head?”

  To her relief, he sounded amused rather than chiding, and his expression was warm… until she burst into tears.

  “Oh, no, love. Don’t cry. Please, I beg you,” he said, pulling her close. “Come now, darling. Get up, I can’t talk to you sitting on the floor of the entrance hall.”

  Ella got to her feet at his insistence, a little dazed at hearing his endearments used in her direction. He put his arm around her and guided her into the library, settling her in a chair by the fire.

  She watched, bewildered, as he poured her a small glass of brandy and pressed it into her hands.

  “Here, sip this. It will make you feel better.”

  Ella downed it in one, wincing a little, and handed him back the empty glass. Oscar sighed and gave her a rueful smile before setting the glass down.

  “Now, then,” he said, kneeling in front of her and taking her hands in his. “Ella, my dearest friend, can you ever forgive me for being such an utter fool?”

  Ella smiled at him and nodded, until a frown knotted her brow as a thought occurred to her. “I can, of course, Oscar, only… don’t leave me alone like that again. If… if you don’t want to be with me, I… I understand, only….”

  The words were left unspoken as Oscar leaned in and pressed his mouth to hers.

  Ella started in surprise, and then melted at the sensation of his soft lips upon hers. Before she could think about it, her hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as he teased her mouth open.

  Good heavens.

  She’d longed for this, dreamed of this, and yet longing and dreaming had not captured the explosion of desire beneath her skin. His tongue slid against hers, warm silk as she mimicked the tantalising slide and caress. One hand left his hair and dropped to his chest, slipping under his coat. The urge to touch him was like a kind of madness. It was all she could think about as she undid the buttons on his waistcoat. Her palm pressed against fresh linen, with the warmth and solidity of hard muscle beneath, and she felt his heart crashing in his chest, assuring her he was not unmoved by this either.

  He drew back then, staring at her, eyes wide.

  “Good Lord,” he murmured and then kissed her again, fiercer this time, his arms pulling her closer, his embrace so desperate that there was barely room to breathe.

  “Oh, sorry!” came an appalled voice from across the room.

  They both jolted as Bertie entered the room. He stared at them, flushed the colour of a cooked lobster, and then turned on his heel.

  “I was never here,” he called over his shoulder. “Carry on. Glad you’re not dead, Rothborn.”

  Oscar snorted as Ella burst out laughing.

  “Blasted fool,” he muttered, shaking his head. He looked up at her, such warmth in his eyes that Ella felt her heart squeezed in her chest.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, feeling she owed him that much. “For meeting with Ranleigh.”

  Oscar gave her a rueful smile. “Can we just say that we’ve both been… rather foolish, and…. Oh, Ella, can we start again, darling? I’ve missed you so. I didn’t realise how much I looked forward to your company every day, to the outrageous things you say and the way I never know what you’ll do next. You’ve been my dearest friend for such a long time, but I never realised how much more than that it was.”

  Ella stared at him, desperate to believe him, but still unsure if he would say such things just to save her feelings. Perhaps her uncertainty showed in her eyes, as Oscar took her face in his hands, staring at her with such intensity that her breath caught.

  “When I saw you with Ranleigh, I…. God, Ella, I wanted to kill him. I’ve never felt such fury in my life. How I left you alone with him I’ll never know.”

  He kissed her again, a searing kiss that left her breathless and clutching at his lapels.

  “Oh. You were jealous?” she asked, needing to have it confirmed despite what he’d said and the possessive feel of his arms about her.

  Oscar snorted, consternation in his eyes. “Yes, horribly, bitterly jealous,” he said, looking a little shaken by his confession. He hadn’t expected it, she realised. “I never knew what it was to feel such anger, and such misery. Damn it, Ella, I came so close to ruining everything.”

  Ella felt her heart clench in her chest, seeing the sincerity in his eyes and believing it, truly believing it for the first time. He cared for her. Whether it was love, she could not be certain, not yet, but he cared enough to be afraid of losing her.

  She laughed suddenly, happiness bubbling up inside with such force she couldn’t contain it. Ella threw herself from her seat and flung her arms about his neck, kissing him with such enthusiasm she unbalanced him for the second time that day. His position on his knees meant he hadn’t so far to fall this time and he took her with him, apparently quite content to take her to the floor.

  Ella looked up, bracing her hands on his chest as she discovered herself sprawled on top of him. All at once everything was sensation, his body so hard under hers, his hands at her hips pinning her against him. She blushed as their eyes met and, this time, Oscar gave a low chuckle, a rather wicked sound that made her blood thr
ill with anticipation.

  “It’s like living with an excited puppy,” he said, mischief in his eyes.

  Ella huffed at him, pretending to be insulted, but it was short-lived as he rolled her onto her back.

  “I like it,” he murmured, nuzzling into the soft space beneath her ear and pressing little kisses along her neck. “You can knock me to the floor whenever you like.”

  She made a breathless sound, somewhere between a gasp and laughter as he moved between her legs and pressed his hips against hers. His arousal found the sensitive spot between her thighs that had ached for him for so long, and Ella gasped again as her head spun, desire fizzing under her skin.

  “Ella,” he whispered, and now she saw the way his eyes had darkened; she saw the wanting in his expression and all at once she was on fire.

  She held her breath.

  A knock at the door had them both cursing.

  “Send them away,” Ella pleaded, trembling with anticipation.

  “What do you want, blast you?” Oscar demanded, his displeasure at the interruption perfectly audible.

  There was a moment’s hesitation before Wilkes replied through the door. “Forgive me, your grace, for the interruption, but Lady Pearl is here, and… and she appears to be unwell.”

  “Pearl!” Ella exclaimed, astonished.

  Oscar groaned. “Damn your blasted sister. If she’s come here to make trouble, she can bloody well turn around.”

  Ella pushed at him until he rolled off her and she struggled to her feet, shaking her head. “Wilkes said she was unwell. She’d not come to me, unless… well, she wouldn’t. She’s too much pride for that.”

  Oscar got up, scowling and doing up the buttons on his waistcoat. “Hmph,” he grumbled, a disparaging sound that illustrated his displeasure at the interruption.

  Ella wanted to kiss him again for that, so she did.

  It was only a brief press of lips, but Oscar cursed and tried to pull her close again as she wriggled away.

  “I must see what’s wrong, Oscar,” she said, a scolding tone to the words, though she was secretly delighted by his reaction.