Captive to the Kiss of a Wicked Duke: A Steamy Historical Regency Romance Novel

by Scarlett Osborne

  “Appreciating the finer things?”

  “Stealing!” she said sharply, which also surprised him. Something flickered in those eyes, something that looked a lot like anger. “And keeping company with such men. You were never like this when I knew you.”

  “You do understand that is the past, do you not? And that is where it should remain.”

  “I cannot help but feel—”

  “Worried? Ashamed?” He barked a harsh laugh. Her judgment was bearing down on him now and it was affecting him more than he thought it would. “You need not worry about me, Meredith. I think there are other things worthy of your time.”

  Her frown deepened, her lips thinning. She uncrossed her arms and pointed at the painting. “This is not you, Heath. This has never been you. You were kind and playful and happy. Not…not…”

  “Rude and unconscionable?”

  She bit her lip. Her eyes betrayed that she truly believed those words. It made him angry, and he didn’t bother to ask himself why.

  “What about you, Meredith? Since when did you become such a coward who throws pretentious comments at people you hardly know?”

  “I’m not pretentious.”

  “You certainly seem that way. But then, I suppose the years have not dimmed that side of you, has it? Only this time, you pretend as if you’re innocent and harmless.”

  “You have no right to say such things to me.” Her words came out quick, almost like a hiss. He was right before. It had been anger. And now, it was flaring in her eyes like an inferno. “As someone who steals from anything that moves, you have no right to judge me when you are the one who should be looking at your own wrongdoings. And you should not be spending your time with such people, Heath. I thought you were smart enough to know that.”

  “Forgive me if I am not willing to take advice from someone who does not have many friends herself.”

  He struck a chord. He saw it the moment it happened and instant regret rushed through him. An apology sprang to the tip of his tongue, but Heath said nothing, only watching as she blinked rapidly and stepped away.

  “You may be right.” Her voice had lost all bite, slipping back into that timid state. He had a sudden urge to reach out to her, to stop her from retreating.

  Heath let out a harsh breath. “I only said that in anger. I did not mean—”

  “Forgive me.” She looked up at him to see her eyes shimmering with tears. “I will be returning to my bedchamber.”

  “Meredith.”

  She didn’t stop. She walked away, her steps quick. Heath watched her go, suddenly feeling like the worst person in the world.

  For a short while, the old Meredith had come back. He’d seen the fire in her eyes again, the same fire he’d fallen for when he was younger. But his words had snuffed it out so easily that he wished he could go back in time and stop himself from saying them.

  Chapter 10

  Meredith didn’t cry. She thought she would, she had felt tears fill her eyes. But they hadn’t spilled over and, and by the time she was safely in her bedchamber, they had disappeared.

  Instead of sadness, Meredith felt anger.

  It had been so long since she’d last felt such a fiery burn within her that she didn’t know what to do with herself. She strode toward the balcony, grateful that there was a gentle breeze wafting by. She hoped it would help to cool her down but the more she thought of her encounter with Heath, the more her anger persisted.

  She couldn’t believe she had argued with him. It had been so long since she’d done such a thing, so long since she’d had such a long and heated conversation with someone. A small part of her couldn’t believe it, was even happy that it had happened. But the larger part of her focused on his words.

  He thinks I’m pretentious. He thinks that is the reason I have no friends. How can he not see that I am merely afraid for him?

  Meredith gripped the railing, seeing nothing but Heath’s blazing eyes in his own fury. She hadn’t meant to anger him when she’d brought back up the topic. She’d only hoped to let him see that he was going down a dark path. If she could get him off it, it would be her ticket to freedom as well, for whenever she was ready to leave.

  Perhaps her approach had been a little accusatory. But his words had cut much deeper than hers ever could.

  Sighing, she turned away from the railing and went back inside, falling onto the bed. She let her eyes drift close, hoping to fall asleep. She didn’t plan on leaving this room for the rest of the day, now that her embarrassment was slowly taking the place of the anger.

  She did fall asleep—eventually. But she didn’t find relief. Instead, Heath followed her into her dreams and no matter where she went, she was reminded of his ocean eyes and his lips coming close to hers. The kiss that almost happened. The need that rose in her when she’d thought it was coming.

  Something was shaking her. In her dream, it was Heath, his arms wrapped around her body, the both of them falling onto the bed…but in reality, it was Annalise. Meredith opened her eye to see the maid hovering over her with a frown of worry. When their eyes met, Annalise breathed a loud sigh.

  “Thank God,” she sighed. “I thought you might have died, My Lady.”

  Meredith was far too groggy to feel alarm. “Died?” she asked, sitting up.

  “You wouldn’t wake no matter how much I shook you,” Annalise said. “I had half a mind to fetch Francis.”

  It took Meredith a moment to piece it all together. She must have fallen asleep. Her fingers caught in her hair and she realized suddenly that she must have been sleeping quite deeply to have tangled it so. She wasn’t surprised that she’d fallen asleep, considering how little she’d gotten the night before. But when she glanced past the balcony doors, she saw that it the sun was drifting down the other side.

  “How long have I been asleep?” she asked with wide eyes.

  Annalise shrugged one shoulder. “I do not know when you first laid down for your nap, My Lady, but I have not seen hide nor hair of you since we parted ways this morning. It is already late afternoon.”

  “Oh, goodness.” She scrambled out of the bed. Getting that much rest would only make it difficult for her to fall asleep tonight. And then, there would be no stopping her mind from drifting to things she didn’t want to think about.

  “I’m here to help you prepare for dinner, My Lady,” Annalise announced, looking oddly proud about it too. “His Grace asked that you be present within the hour.”

  Meredith paused. “His Grace?”

  “Yes, it is quite odd for him to have dinner at the manor.” Annalise was already walking toward the wardrobe. “He tends to leave around midday and we will not see him again until well into the night. Perhaps even the next morning. But perhaps because he has a guest, he wishes to make a good impression.”

  Meredith rose to her feet, reeling a little from the news. The last she’d remembered was walking away from a heated argument with him. But he wants to have dinner with me?

  “Will there be other guests?” Meredith asked.

  “I am unsure, My Lady.” Annalise ventured back out with two gowns in her hand—one rose-colored and the other a pale yellow. When Meredith only stared at her, she put them back. “I am not privy to the plans of the Duke. I only know that he wishes to have you dine with him. It must be quite a pleasure to be able to share a meal with His Grace.”

  “I am not so sure about that.” She was a bit dazed, actually, wondering what he might be thinking.

  He had certainly been angry. That much she remembered. The way he had spoken to her had clearly been to cut to the core, and he had succeeded. What could he possibly want with her now? To rub salt into her wound?

  “I think this would be a lovely color on you, My Lady,” Annalise said, disturbing her thoughts. She brought forth a moss-colored dress and proceeded to help Meredith out of her day gown. “You seem a bit shocked. Or are you simply excited?”

  Meredith answered without thought. “Shocked.”


  “Ah, I see. Well, if you know the Duke then it is no wonder. He does not have much of a reputation of being sociable, so dining with you might be a new practice for him as well. But I do not know much, I am afraid. I only recently began working here, as I said before.”

  “Yes, I remember.”

  Meredith’s lackluster responses didn’t deter Annalise from the conversation. If anything, it spurred her on. “I have never spoken to him myself, although I have always wanted to. I fear I may only blurt something foolish and run, however. That will certainly cost me my position and I cannot afford to lose it. My mouth has always gotten me into trouble in the past.”

  Meredith was not surprised by that. But Annalise’s rambling, though odd, was a bit comforting. It distracted her. “Do you have a family, Annalise?” she asked.

  “I most certainly do. My father and mother are quite old, so they rely on me to take care of them. As for my brother…well, if he would keep himself out of the pubs then perhaps it would not be so difficult for me to provide for them all.”

  “You must feel quite a lot of burden,” Meredith murmured.

  Annalise, done helping her into her gown, led her to the vanity table. She ran her fingers through Meredith’s knotted hair with ease. “Burden?” she echoed. “Perhaps so. But it has never felt that way. If anything, I am happy I am able to give back to my family, after all they’ve done for me.”

  “That is quite nice of you.”

  “I think so too,” Annalise chuckled and Meredith almost smiled. “No matter how many times we may argue, I have never lost an inch of love for them and I doubt they have either. I cannot wait to see them again.”

  “Perhaps you can take some time off,” Meredith suggested. “Francis might not mind.”

  “Ah, how sweet of you to say,” Annalise laughed heartily. “But Francis is not so generous a man as he seems. I think I must prove myself first. But we will see.”

  “I doubt you’ll have any issue with that.” The conversation stalled when Annalise only nodded, smiling. Not wanting to risk her asking Meredith anything about her own family, she quickly said, “Tell me more about your brother. He seems like a character.”

  Annalise was more than willing to appease her and, for the next half hour while she did her hair, she went on about her immature older brother. She spoke with strong irritation, with a sharp undertone of fondness. Meredith didn’t doubt for a second that Annalise loved her brother, even though she ranted about how he would spend what little she could send back to her family.

  With all the talking, Meredith hadn’t even noticed that she’d done her hair up in a simple style. She gazed at herself in the mirror when Annalise was done and instantly saw her mother again. She rose before the rush of emotions could overwhelm her.

  “Thank you, Annalise,” she said kindly.

  “That is my job, My Lady.” Annalise beamed. “And you can always call me Ana, if you wish.”

  Meredith nodded. Oddly enough, she felt comfortable enough to consider the thought.

  But the moment she turned toward the door, her anxiousness returned. Annalise walked with her, continuing to talk about her family, but Meredith heard very little. Every step they took towards the dining room had her heart racing. She didn’t know what to expect when she walked in, didn’t know if she would be facing the members of gang or the Duke.

  When she arrived, she hesitated. She could feel Annalise’s eyes on her and, not wanting to worry her—because that would surely induce questions—Meredith steeled her nerves and entered.

  Heath was already sitting, his finger swirling around the edge of his glass. He looked up when she entered, but he didn’t stand. Even when she came closer, her legs shaking, and she curtsied, he did nothing.

  Did he have to look so… She wouldn’t allow herself to finish the thought, even though her insides tightened at the sight of him. She felt as if her heart was fluttering for a reason she didn’t want to acknowledge.

  She chose to sit on the left of him, waiting for the men to entered with their first meal in tow. Heath’s gaze was heavy on her and Meredith refused to meet it. She picked up her spoon and dipped it into the soup, her appetite nonexistent in his presence. He had one arm resting on the table, his muscles bulging despite the layers he wore.

  Unbidden, she found herself picturing Heath with a shirt. Rippling muscles that would jump at her heated touch…Meredith went red.

  When they were alone in the room again, he broke the silence. “You slept well, I see.”

  She swallowed past her dry throat. “Have you been receiving information on what I have been doing?”

  “Yes.”

  His honesty was going to be the death of her. She refused to look at him, even as she said, “When I am angry, I sleep.”

  He didn’t say anything for a few moments. Meredith was tempted to look up in the silence. “A decent way to cope, I suppose. When I am angry, I drink.”

  She glanced at the glass of wine before him. “Then I suppose you must have gotten yourself good and intoxicated earlier.”

  “Hardly.” He left it at that, which had her looking up in confusion. He had already begun eating and he jerked his chin at her own food. “Eat. You haven’t eaten anything all day, save for a single crumpet.”

  Frowning, she looked down at her soup. “It is truly unbecoming of you to spy on a lady, I hope you are aware”

  “I am,” he said easily. “And I’m sure you know by now that I do not care about such things. Seeing that I am unconscionable.”

  Meredith flushed.

  He went on, “Worry not, Meredith. I did not spy on you. I only know you more than I let on.”

  That made her flush even more, but for an entirely different reason as she looked up at him. “What do you mean?”

  “You are not comfortable here,” he said simply. “And if you are not comfortable, you will not eat.” He looked down at her barely touched soup, as if to prove his point.

  Meredith didn’t think she could eat right now, considering what he was saying. “Is that why you requested that I have dinner with you?”

  “Yes.”

  “I thought you did not care what happened to me.”

  His eyes were steady as he looked at her, but he didn’t stop chewing. “I would rather you not fall down dead in my manor. It is quite bothersome to be rid of a body.”

  Meredith blinked. And then, to her utter surprise, she blurted out a giggle.

  That made Heath pause, and he frowned. “Did I say something funny?”

  “You are not unconscionable, Heath,” she said, smiling just a little. “Your worry for me shows that as clear as day.”

  “I have said this before, Meredith. You do not know me.”

  “No, but I remember you. And I can see bits of the boy I remember shining through right now.”

  He only grunted, but he didn’t take his eyes off her. Meredith’s smile slipped away and she focused her attention on her soup. Her appetite was coming back. Perhaps he was right about her needing to be comfortable.

  “My words earlier were insensitive,” he said suddenly. “I should not have said them and I apologize if they hurt you.”

  Meredith gaped at him. Heath frowned, lifting a brow. “Have you heard anything I’ve said?” he asked.

  “Yes, but I cannot believe it.”

  He snorted. “It is not so odd for me to apologize when I am wrong.”

  “Yes, you are right.” She couldn’t take her eyes off him, couldn’t stop herself from searching for the boy she’d known so long ago. “But considering all that you do, I did not expect you to remember how to apologize.”

  Heath said nothing at that and Meredith felt a stab of regret. She bit her lip, looking back at her soup. Her appetite was flipping in and out of existence that she was beginning to grow nauseous.

  Would it seem incredibly cowardly of me to excuse myself right now? The urge grew overwhelming as Heath’s silence grew deeper. She peeked at him, but because she was so
unable to gauge what he was thinking, her anxiousness only grew.

  “Forgive me as well,” she murmured. She cleared her throat, realizing she was hardly speaking loud enough for him to hear. “I suppose I believe I am so righteous that I can do no wrong, when it is clear that my words have hurt you. For that, I must apologize.”

  For some reason, Meredith had expected him to turn down her apology, claiming that he hadn’t been hurt by her words. But when she looked up at him, he was staring at her, his eyes indecipherable. He seemed to be studying her, but the longer his eyes remained on her, the hotter she grew. His jaw moved slowly, so strong that she longed to reach out and touch it. To see if it truly was as hard as it appeared.