“Of murderous villains,” he supplied.
“Yes. They intended to ravage the princess and then feed her to hungry vultures.”
Dash’s brows rose in mock horror and she could tell that he was suppressing a grin. Which only encouraged her. She liked these times with him, nearly as much as when they kissed or touched. Each interaction more playful than the last.
Noelle leaned against an old worktable and continued. “Sir Clarence overheard what these vile men had planned and in the dark of night, he set upon them, stabbing his sword through their hearts and cutting off a few of their limbs. The princess—”
“And what was her name?” He reached out then and lightly traced the curve of her neck
“Princess Ivy.” And then she set her imagination loose again. Somehow, the story called to her own uncertainties. “When Sir Clarence broke in, the candle was knocked over, leaving him to fight the villains in darkness.”
“Terribly awkward,” Dash edged closer to her. “Those fights in the dark.”
“Except for one.” She added in a hushed tone, biting her lip again.
“I take it old Clarence didn’t make it?” Dash lifted her onto the table so that they were practically eye to eye and he watched her with that same wonderment she’d seen the night before.
Noelle shook her head. “Alas, just as he killed the last would-be murderer, a dagger plunged through his back and straight into his heart.”
“What happened to Princess Ivy?” Dash moved to stand between her legs and removed one of his gloves. Then he traced her cheek with the pad of his index finger. “Did she make a very fine meal for those vultures?”
Noelle placed one hand on Dash’s chest, wanting to feel his heartbeat under her fingers. This tragic love story had a purpose. It would remind them both that love brought pain and suffering. “No. She escaped and lived in this very castle for several decades, where she died alone.”
He leaned forward, warming her cheek with his breath.
“Lived in a castle with no roof for several decades? That is tragic, indeed.” His lips had slid to her ear, causing her to shiver with need.
Noelle struggled to remember the end of her story at the same time his now-bare hand trailed its way down her arm to her waist. She gripped his jacket tighter in her hand.
“All the murderers were dead. Sir Clarence killed them.” She explained, her breath hitching, leaning back on both hands now. “In the midst of the fighting, Princess Ivy sought to save Sir Clarence.”
He kissed the sensitive spot just below her ear and her bones seemed to turn to jelly.
“I’m sensing that she failed,” Dash whispered as he unbuttoned her pelisse to move his mouth lower.
Goosebumps rose on her flesh.
“Sir Clarence stabbed the final villain and at the same time Princess Ivy brandished a hidden knife.”
“Finish your story.” Dash pulled her closer, their bodies pressed together in the most intimate position. She slid her arm about him, drawing in his heat as he pressed his mouth to her exposed collarbone.
She was close to something incredible, something unknown.
“Finish your story, love.”
“She killed the wrong man,” Noelle grimaced as she pulled back again, trying to look in his eyes. She needed to know he understood the moral of this story. Love was a mistake. This was far better.
“That is unfortunate, you savage little minx. Surely, she ought to have known it was him and not one of the villains setting himself upon her. Or perhaps she was simply blinded by love.”
Relief made her shoulders sag. “I completely agree.”
“But all the same, a ravaging from the right man can be rather…fun.”
Her breath caught. Now they were getting somewhere. “Again,” she looked into the clear blue of his eyes. “I couldn’t agree more.”
Chapter Seven
Desire roared like a beast in Dash’s stomach as he stared down at his little Christmas confection. He stood between her legs, her body pressed to his, her face tipped up to him. Damn this woman made him mad with need.
Not that he’d do anything about that quite yet. He knew they were engaged but he hadn’t even told her he was a duke yet. He wasn’t ready to pass the point of no return by taking her innocence. But that didn’t mean they couldn’t enjoy this moment.
Still holding the small of her back, he slid his other hand over her skirt and down to her ankle, flicking the hem up and sliding underneath the heavy fabric. Normally all that material might feel like a hindrance, but today, it added an air of intimacy, the weight of her clothes, pressing his hand to her skin.
Noelle tipped back, bracing one hand on the table, a clear invitation that he didn’t squander. She was eager to learn and the connection they shared only fueled his desire. He might not have wanted to marry, but damn he was going to enjoy their time together.
Skimming past her knees, and the plump thighs he would relish later, he found the seam of her pantaloons and parted the cloth, his finger along her most intimate flesh.
She gasped and quivered underneath his touch, her hips thrusting to be closer to have more. “This is just the beginning,” he murmured, leaning closer to her ear again. “We have so much to look forward to.”
In answer, she tightened her arm about his shoulders and he softly slid the pad of his middle finger up and down her silky flesh marveling at the heat, the wetness, the desire she gave so freely.
“Dash,” she gasped, her face turning to his. “More.” Her mouth greedily seeking his. “Please.”
He grinned against her lips. “Of course, my sweet. Ask and you shall receive.” Rarely had someone else’s pleasure provided him with so much of his own, but, if he were being honest, her finish was far more important than his own. He wanted to watch her face, know her passion was because of him.
Briefly he wondered why he had such a change in attitude. Of course, male pride always demanded that he please his partner, but this was different. He didn’t give a damn about his own climax, only hers.
Her body was tightening, as was her grip. He kissed her neck again, murmuring inane words of encouragement as she cried out his name again. “Dash.”
“Yes, my sweet. That’s it.” Her cinnamon-and-ginger scent wrapped about him even as her body spasmed, her pleasure breaking. He smiled against her skin as he kept his movement steady, allowing her to ride her pleasure until the end.
She collapsed against his chest. Her head burrowing into the crook of his neck. “I didn’t realize…” He gathered her closer at the trembling sound in her voice.
“I know. But don’t worry. You’re perfectly safe with me.” To his complete surprise he meant those words. They reverberated from the bottom of his heart, up to his lips.
“I know,” He held his breath to hear her every word. “I just never expected there to be so much…emotion. I—”
He grimaced, pulling back a bit. A niggle of worry had settled deep in his stomach that he hadn’t anticipated either. “I understand,” he said gently lifting her from the perch. Making certain she was steady, he shook out her skirts. “We need not worry on one account.”
She cocked her head, her hands resting on his shoulders. “What account is that?”
He leaned down and lightly kissed the tip of her nose. “We will be most compatible when it comes to creating an heir.”
She frowned, her brow crinkling. “Somehow, that wasn’t what concerned me.”
He nodded, drawing her into him once again. Of course, it wasn’t. The words were meant to console himself. He hadn’t even experienced the sort of pleasure she had and yet, bonds had begun forming between them. This was not the plan. “What does concern you?”
She drew in an unsteady breath. “I’m not entirely certain yet.”
Unwilling to relinquish her, he settled one hand on her opposite hip and led her back to the door. “The afternoon grows colder. We should return before we lose the sun entirely.”
Sh
e nodded, her gaze cast to the ground. “Of course.”
“Noelle,” he could feel her withdrawal. Normally, he’d prefer that exact outcome but it troubled him now. “The first time is wonderful but also so new, it can be unsettling.”
She stopped and gazed up at him, her face relaxing. “Is that what it is?” Her body pressed to his side. “Thank you for explaining that. I was worried that there was something wrong.”
“Wrong?” He tucked her against his side as they headed out of the castle and toward the sleigh.
She shook her head. “Well Wollstonecraft said that the physical relationship—”
He groaned. “We can explore a marriage without a physical component after we’ve created my heir.”
She nodded her consent and snapping the reigns, he started the sleigh back toward the village. But the merry mood had disappeared. Because when he really considered the idea of having a wife who was his wife in name only, frankly, he hated the very notion.
* * *
Noelle cracked the egg and dropped it into the bowl of treacle, not as mindful as she usually was when she cooked. All night long, and from the moment she woke up, her emotions had shifted from excitement and contentment to the feeling that she was about to make a horrible mistake.
She stirred the thick, gooey mixture and added brown sugar, and then ginger and allspice. He’d called her his sweet and a confection. He’d listened to her story and even lain in the snow to make an angel beside her.
She swallowed hard.
He’d touched her…there! Noelle blinked and stared at the spices. Had she added ginger yet? She reached for it and added a healthy pinch. And allspice. She picked up the small bowl with coriander and caraway seeds and began crushing them together.
All the while he’d been touching her, he’d murmured soothing words, compliments and encouragement into her ear. He’d kissed her sweetly. He’d held her. He’d comforted her.
How could a girl not succumb to some sort of emotion after all of that?
Trouble was that he hadn’t seemed nearly as overwhelmed with emotion as she had been. This was probably because it had not been new to him. Likely, he’d done the same with hundreds of women. Thousands! Noelle twisted the pestle with such force that the mortar slipped out of her hand and tipped over.
“Good gravy!” She chastised herself while brushing the ground spice off the edge into her hand and back into the bowl.
Now, where was she?
The problem was, she surmised, after experiencing such intense pleasure and emotion, she found it difficult to believe that she wouldn’t become…attached to him. Not just in a friendly way, but in a romantic way.
Noelle pinched in some clove and some ground mace and then frowned. Had she added ginger?
In case she’d forgotten, she dug out a heaping spoonful and tipped it in. One more spoonful wouldn’t hurt. The ginger flavor was her favorite.
Unable to help herself, she dipped her finger into the mixture to taste. He’d said what they’d done was just the beginning. If she was feeling this way now, how was she going to feel after he made love to her in truth? And wouldn’t a person feel some attachment to a certain gentleman when she grew his child in her belly?
“Are you eating the batter again?” Eve peaked over her shoulder. “It’ll make you sick.”
Noelle licked her lips. It tasted lovely, exactly as she liked it. “Hand me the flour, will you?”
Eve lifted the bin down from an overhead cupboard and slid it across Noelle’s workspace. “You were quiet when you returned last night. Are you having second thoughts?”
“No,” She wasn’t. Not really. She scooped flour into her mixture. “Perhaps.” She looked over at her sister, needing advice now. “When you came out for your season, did you ever have… feelings for a man?”
Eve froze. “What makes you ask that?”
Noelle squinted her eyes as she assessed her sisters drawn features. “Did you let any of your suitors kiss you?”
Eve began moving dishes behind her. “Perhaps. Why?”
“I don’t want to fall in love. I told you that. But when he…kisses me. It’s hard to imagine not doing just that. When your suitor kissed you, did you fall in love?”
“It doesn’t have to mean anything, Noelle. It’s just something that happens between a man and a woman. It doesn’t mean they must fall in love.” Eve replaced the lid onto the flour and then returned it to the cupboard. “Not that love isn’t possible. But what is love if a person cannot trust it will last forever? How can anyone ever know that circumstances won’t come apart?”
Something was decidedly off with Eve.
Moving about nervously, her normally sweet and placid sister opened a few cupboards and then closed them without taking anything out. She then picked up the washcloth and began wiping down a perfectly clean surface.
“Is something wrong, Eve? Are you upset about something?”
“Of course not. I’m perfectly fine.” Eve’s words came out sounding anything but fine and she refused to meet Noelle’s gaze. “Didn’t Aunt Winifred already make cookies earlier? Why so many?”
The reminder had Noelle smiling. “I’m taking them across to the inn.” She blushed as she stirred the dough. “I thought that Dash—Lord Blitzencreek—might appreciate some home cooking.”
“The inn?” Eve abandoned her scrubbing and turned to the window to look across the square.
“Yes. Would you like to come with me?” Noelle shifted, nibbling her lip. Eve’s company would lessen her fears. She’d lain awake much of the night, wondering if their next meeting would be awkward or exhilarating. Would they have a newfound connection? Did she even want that?
“Not today. I, er, Aunt has a guest coming for dinner and I need to collect the chicken.” Eve was almost out the door when she caught herself and then peered around the corner. “Do not leave Cook alone with your cookies. This morning’s breads would have been fit for the bin if Holly hadn’t come down early.”
Noelle nodded. She intended to bake these herself.
For him.
After working the dough, she rolled it out and went to fashioning various shapes for his cookies wanting to make them perfect but also anxious to see him again. Feeling breathless and more excited than she ought to be, she intentionally slowed her pace as she crossed the square.
He was her intended, true, but it wasn’t as though this was a love match. She hitched her skirt up as she waded through the snow wearing her red cape and hoped he didn’t mind that her baking skills did not extend to the artistic side of cookie making.
She grinned and inhaled the sweet aroma coming from the basket hooked over her arm, anxious for him to taste her.
Them. To taste them.
The cookies.
She drew in a deep breath, tamping down the butterflies threatening to take flight as she contemplated the especially lovely…er…gift that he’d given her the day before.
For all Eve’s reticence to share the details of her own romantic history, the answer she’d given Noelle had been reassuring. It was practically the same thing Dash had told her. Perhaps Noelle had nothing to worry about after all. It was time she stopped being anxious and allowed herself to enjoy her handsome and charming fiancé.
A bell on the door rang as she stepped inside of the building, which she’d only seen from outside up until now. It wasn’t a palace, by any means, but it seemed warm and welcoming and comfortable.
“Welcome to the Crowing Cock Inn, miss. What might I do for you today?” An older gentleman of medium height with salt-and-pepper hair welcomed her from across the room where he stood behind the reception desk.
Noelle straightened her shoulders and brightened. “I’m not in need of a room. I’ve come from just across the way.” She began the explanation for her visit but he was already nodding.
“I know who you are. You’re one of Lady Tannenbaum’s nieces. Talk of the town, you know. Not many young people move to Maybridge Falls these da
ys. The young gentlemen who live hereabouts are pleased as punch for the next country dance. They’ll have to wait for spring, I imagine. Are all your sisters as pretty as you? I have a nephew—"
“That’s very kind of you, Mr. …?”
“Rudolph. Bert Rudolph. And I’m not being kind at all, just honest.”
Noelle smiled, wanting to mention that she was an engaged woman but also knowing that she couldn’t just go announcing the information to everyone she came into contact with. “I was wondering,” she gestured toward her basket. “I’ve brought these for one of your guests. Lord Blitzencreek.”
The innkeeper furrowed his brows. “Lord Whatzencreek?”
“About so high.” Noelle held her hand up high in the air. “Black hair, midnight-blue eyes, and a finely chiseled jaw. He arrived just as the storm moved in.”
“Oh, you mean His—”
“Lady Noelle!” Dash rushed into the room and gripped her by the shoulders affectionately but also with enough enthusiasm that she quickly realized he was as happy to see her as she was to see him. Relief made her shoulders limp as she looked up into handsome features. “I see you’ve met Mr. Rudolph. Mr. Rudolph, anything my fiancée or her sisters need is to be added to my tab.”
Mr. Rudolph blinked several times but then broke into a huge grin. “Why that’s tremendous! Positively tremendous! To think that one of Maybridge’s own citizens is betrothed to a D—”
The door tinkled again as a burst of cold air hit her back.
“Noelle!” Holly raced through the front door. “Aunt Winifred sent me to fetch you immediately.” She winced. “Cook’s having trouble again.”
Before Noelle could respond, another finely dressed gentleman stepped into the lobby behind Dash. “What’s taking you so long, Dash?” He spoke around the unlit cigar hanging from his lips. “It’s your turn to bet.” His gaze flicked between the two girls. When they landed on Holly, they narrowed.
If Noelle hadn’t already been so taken with Dash, she might have considered this man’s jet-black hair and slate-colored eyes attractive. He was too tall, however, and his eyes didn’t smile like her fiancé’s did.
My Dashing Duke Page 7
