My Dashing Duke

by Andresen, Tammy

  The fiancé who released her promptly, causing her to nearly lose her balance.

  “I er, I brought you these.” Noelle felt oddly bereft as she regained her balance. She wanted to throw her arms around him, but, of course, they must act with proper decorum while in the presence of others. She met his eyes instead and hoped he understood that she’d missed him.

  How was it possible that she missed him already? A flash of fear weakened her limbs.

  Holly took hold of her arm from behind and tugged. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Lord Blitzencreek. Come along, Noelle. I need you to see what you can do about the poultry.” Why was Holly’s voice so high and tight? She turned to study her sister.

  “Blitzencreek?” The other man drawled. “Oh, but this promises indeed to be entertaining. What exactly am I missing, Dashlington?”

  Noelle, blinked, trying to make sense of the two conversations happening around her.

  “We really must be going. Come around later for dinner, my lord, if you are willing to risk it.” Holly dragged Noelle outside into the cold.

  “I hope he likes my cookies.” Noelle pouted. She really had hoped to spend a few minutes alone with him. She was feeling…uncertain, and she had hoped he could soothe her doubts.

  “He’ll love your blasted cookies. But if we can’t save our charred bird, we’ll all be eating cookies for dinner.”

  Noelle bit her lip. What had that other man meant? And why had he called him Dashlington?

  Chapter Eight

  Dash let out a long breath, feeling as though he’d narrowly escaped the gallows. Between the innkeeper and Jack, his title had nearly been revealed.

  Shaking his head, he chastised himself for not telling her the truth already. They were engaged, after all. There was little point in hiding the fact that Noelle was about to be a duchess. But a tiny voice deep within nagged that everything would change once she knew.

  His father’s title had been his greatest asset but also his Achilles heel of the marriage market. Dash rubbed his eyes. Noelle was not his mother and would not become her simply because she became a duchess. She was kind and considerate and yet, he couldn’t quite calm that niggling fear in his belly that had kept him up much of the night.

  Jack clapped him on the back. “What was that all about, Dashlington?”

  Where did he begin? “That was Lady Noelle Bailey.”

  “The baker?” Jack stared toward the door. “Why didn’t you properly introduce me?”

  Dash furrowed his brow, turning toward the other man. “She isn’t a baker, she’s my fiancée.”

  “And the other one? How do you know her?” Jack asked, looking uneasy for no reason at all.

  “My fiancée’s younger sister.” Dash took a half step closer, his jaw tensing. “And I’m not sure I’d introduce any decent woman to the Earl of Tidemore.”

  Jack scowled, his brows drawing together. “Like you’re any better. What’s this I hear about Blitzencreek?”

  His arms crossed over his chest. “I’ll have you know that it is one of my titles.”

  One of Jack’s eyebrows lifted. “Most men would tell a lady he was a duke before asking her to marry him.”

  He shrugged. “I’m not most men.”

  Jack shook his head. “Two days in this town and you’re engaged while Nick is acting cagey as anything. Where the bloody hell are we?”

  The innkeeper chimed in as he walked by. “Maybridge Falls, of course, my lord. And a wonderful place it is, too.”

  Jack shook his head. “Bloody bullocks, I’ve got to get out of here.”

  Dash didn’t want to leave at all. In fact, he was looking forward to extending his stay in this quaint little village. Which meant actually telling Noelle about his ducal title. “Good luck with that,” he murmured as he turned toward the stairs. He needed his coat.

  Five minutes later, he was tromping across the square toward Lady Tannenbaum’s cottage. He bypassed the front door, heading toward the back-kitchen entrance. Giving a firm knock, he was surprised when the door almost immediately opened. Noelle stood before him, chicken and roasting pan in hand.

  “Was that supposed to be edible?” he asked, barely able to keep the smile off his face as her nose wrinkled up.

  “Honestly. How does she even keep herself in pans?” Noelle tossed the charred remains of the chicken into the snow. “No wonder my aunt has maintained her figure into her elder years. She never eats.”

  He chuckled as he followed her back into the kitchen. “It’s ingenious.”

  Noelle let out a sigh. “Except for the fact that I, for one, actually like to eat.” Wiping her hands on the towel, she grimaced down at the stove. He studied the lovely curve of her back reaching out to run a hand along her spine.

  “Where is your family?”

  “Aunt Winifred has gone off to the butcher to buy more meat and Holly with her.” Noelle touched her fingertips to her face, flushed pink from her exertions, and then pushed back a few hairs that had escaped her coiffure. “Eve has disappeared entirely and they’ve left me to clean up the mess.”

  A little thrill of excitement made his muscles tense. “And Mr. Clark?”

  Noelle fanned the table to clear the smell of burnt smoke. “I haven’t seen him.”

  He stepped up behind her, placing a light kiss at the back of her neck. “So, what you’re saying is that you and I are alone?”

  She drew in a short breath that only increased his excitement. “I suppose I am saying that.”

  He kissed again, a bit lower, and placed his hands at her waist. “That’s good.”

  “Why is that,” she looked over her shoulder, and he took his opportunity to place a soft kiss on her mouth.

  Their lips lingered together, long and slow. “We need to have a conversation, I think.”

  She turned in his arms, lacing her fingers behind his neck. “A conversation sounds lovely.”

  He chuckled, pressing her torso to his. Growling need, which had been bubbling under the surface, pushed its way to the forefront as the kiss lengthened, their tongues tangling together.

  His hand traced the lovely curve of her back, and then he slid his fingers around to the front, cupping and then squeezing her breast. She pushed into his hand, her neck arching back as he used his thumb to rub the nipple into a stiff peak. Could he get her dress and chemise down enough to taste one of those little sugar cubes?

  “Dash,” she murmured, holding his head in both of her hands. “We can’t do this.”

  His brow knitted together as grumbling protests rose in his throat. “Why the hell not? We’ll be married soon enough.”

  A teasing smile played at her lips. “We’re standing in the middle of the kitchen.”

  Well, that was something wasn’t it? “When do you think your family will be home?”

  “I’ve no idea.” She stood on tiptoe and nipped at the skin just below his ear. Need pulsed through him.

  “Well then,” he dropped down and wrapped his hands just below her lush little derriere, picking her up and pressing their hips together. They both moaned in need. “There is only one solution to such a problem.”

  “Just one?” She gasped out.

  He smiled as he nibbled at her mouth again. “Fair enough. There are several, but one that I think works the best. I can hardly wait to touch you and the most immediately private place to do so is the larder.”

  A giggle burst from her mouth. “The larder? How romantic.”

  He gave her ass a squeeze with his hands, the need to touch her outweighing the humor they’d been playing at. “Let me show you how romantic it can be.”

  * * *

  He’d mentioned talking, hadn’t he? Noelle could hardly think straight while he carried her into the small, dark room where Cook kept all the spices, and flours, and foodstuffs. It was unbelievable, how the scent of his breath excited her, how she craved the taste of his mouth and this…nearness.

  “I missed you,” she admitted. His lips
trailed down the side of her neck, sending a shiver through her.

  “You taste even sweeter today,” he growled and then nipped at her shoulder. “How is that possible?”

  “The cookies.” She sighed, her back pressed against the shelves. She didn’t even mind that it hurt a little. All she wanted was this. “Did you get a chance to taste them?” When he didn’t answer right away, she added. “My cookies.”

  “Don’t you know that’s why I’m here?” He swung both of them around and drew a squeal from her when he lowered her onto the large flour sacks stacked at the far end of the pantry. “By God, Noelle, I’ve come to taste your cookies.”

  Half laying, half sitting, Noelle wondered if the scent of baking ingredients would forever remind her of this moment as Dash dropped to kneel on the floor before her.

  She smiled and tilted her head. “My cookies?” His face was mostly in shadows but she couldn’t fail to miss the wicked glint in his eyes. He was going to touch her again. Her heart raced when both of his hands slowly slid her dress higher, revealing her ankles and calves and then the white lace of her pantaloons.

  The beats of her heart came to a screeching halt when he lowered his head and pressed his lips to the tender skin on the inside of her knee. “So soft. Like a butterfly’s wings.” When he trailed his lips up a few inches, wet heat shot to her core and she gasped. How had she gone her entire life not knowing this existed?

  He lifted his head and stared into her eyes. Although she could just barely see his face, she understood his question.

  Parting her lips, she nodded and thrilled when the corners of his mouth lifted in a promising smile. She’d never felt so close to anyone. He lowered his head and dropped another kiss inside her knee again. At the same time, he slid one hand partially up the leg of her pantaloons, where his fingertips teased her sensitive skin. Knowing the carnal bliss of his touch, her senses heightened, waiting, wanting, anticipating more.

  And then both of his hands were sliding beneath her dress, along the outside of her thighs to her waist. Noelle squirmed to make it easier for him to untie her pantaloons and then lifted her hips when he dragged them past her hips and off.

  Was she going to lose her virginity in her aunt’s larder? The thought ought to be a mortifying one, but all she knew was this voracious desire. And like he’d said, they were to be married soon.

  But…shouldn’t there be more to this? Only he wasn’t unfastening his britches. He ducked down lower, lifting and then hooking her knees over his shoulders.

  “Dash?” His name trembled on her lips.

  He peeked up at her, his dark hair brushing the skin inside her thighs. “Only keeping my promise, my lush little pastry.”

  “Your promise?” Noelle was holding herself up with her elbows since she couldn’t seem to drag her gaze away from him. Seeing him there was the most wickedly exciting thing she’d ever seen.

  “I’m going to taste your cookies.” And then his hands slid beneath her buttocks at the same time as his face disappeared beneath her skirts.

  And then.

  And then.

  Dear God! No wonder he’d been reluctant to make angels with her. When his tongue swept up her center, she was certain he was the devil himself. “Good gravy!” She knocked her head against the wall behind her but didn’t care.

  The second time he exerted more pressure and she couldn’t stop her hips from jerking up. “Dash!”

  “Buttery sweet.” His voice drifted up to meet her, but she also felt it vibrate…inside of her. Good heavenly gravy! He scraped his face against her sensitive flesh and then she felt a pressure of something entering her. The same from the day before. She’d never be able to look at his fingers again without imagining them fiddling around down there.

  “Do you like this?” He made little swirling motions.

  “So much,” she practically moaned. Her muscles tensed and she couldn’t help tightening her legs around his face. He seemed quite undeterred by the fact.

  His fingers ceased their circles and slowly began working their way in and out of her. “And this?”

  “You can’t imagine,” she barely managed on a gasp.

  “I wish I could see you properly. I want to know if this,” his tongue swiped at a sensitive nub, “is ruby red or a pretty pink.” And then he sucked it into his mouth.

  “Dash!” Her insides trembled.

  “I want to watch your pretty, pretty lips swell beneath my gaze.” He curled a finger inside of her. “See your sweet juices on my hands.”

  Noelle twisted and writhed and her hands gripped the sides of the flour bags as though her life depended on it.

  He licked and nipped.

  “I want to watch this,” he flicked his tongue at her, “quiver.”

  “Enough talking, Dash, damn it!” This was the most exquisite torture. Hearing and feeling his laughter, she brought her hands to the sides of his head in frustration. Springy tufts of his hair threaded through her fingers as she urged him along.

  He eagerly obliged.

  “So close. More. Yes.” She didn’t even know what she was saying as he stroked and played her body masterfully. “Dash! Dash!”

  White flashes of light burst behind her eyes when, with one last thrust, he provided the perfect pressure to the most perfect spot. She was flying and shaking and then falling and when it was over, she landed in the comfort of his arms.

  He was rocking her and whispering. “Noelle, I—so beautiful. So sweet. Never have I known—my love.” When a door sounded, however, he went silent and still.

  “She was going to try to salvage some of the meat.” Eve’s voice sounded from in the kitchen—just a few feet away. “But it looks as though she’s thrown out the entire bird. If this goes on much longer, we’ll be feeding the entire feline population in all of Maybridge Falls.”

  “Well, I suppose someone has to feed them,” Holly’s voice answered, sounding only slightly farther away. “And the dogs had the roast from the night before. It’s only fair.”

  “I feel sorry for Cook. Mr. Clark says she used to be quite skilled, before her eyesight began to fail.”

  “It’s good of Aunt to keep her on.”

  Noelle squirmed slightly and then made an attempt to slide out of his arms.

  He tightened them around her, however, and pressed his lips near her ear. “Those were the best cookies I’ve ever had,” he whispered. Torn between either giggling at his inappropriate remark or scolding him to be serious, Noelle instead turned and pressed her lips against his.

  He tasted salty and earthy and she realized that the moisture on his lips was from her.

  She could almost lose herself all over again. She wanted to touch him! She wanted to discover what she could do to give him the same satisfaction he’d given her.

  Only, any moment, the sound of banging cupboards and rattling silver reminded her that they were at risk of being discovered by one of her sisters.

  Feeling all sorts of reluctance, she pushed herself up, smoothed her skirts and tucked her hair behind her ears. He’d risen as well and was fluffing her skirts behind her.

  “While I’m distracting them, you’ll need to steal out behind me.” she whispered over her shoulder. He halted her and kissed her one more time, lingering, almost as though he…loved her.

  “Wait. We haven’t talked yet. What I need to say to you is import—”

  “Shhh,” she whispered then jerked away and swiped her hand across her mouth. And without another word stepped out into the light.

  “You’re back!” She announced brightly, joining them by the stove. “I couldn’t save the meat so I suppose we’ll need to talk with Mr. Rudolph at the inn. Apparently, Aunt is one of his best customers.”

  “Where did you come from?” Holly narrowed her gaze and studied her. “And what have you done with your hair?”

  Noelle’s hands flew up and she realized that although she’d managed to tuck the front strands back, most of the back had escaped with
out her notice.

  “You’re flushed.” Eve’s gaze shifted to the larder causing Noelle to grasp her sister’s arms and spin her around.

  “I want to show you something in the drawing room. It’s the most extraordinary thing I’ve ever seen.” Noelle had no idea what she would show them but she needed them out of the kitchen and away from the larder!

  “Good heavens, what is it?” Holly complained.

  “Is Aunt Winifred all right?”

  “Oh, she’s fine.” Noelle murmured.

  She dragged them down the hall and when she reached the drawing room, glanced around anxiously. Upon spying her embroidery, she lifted the circle eagerly. “Look at this stitch! I’ve never quite managed anything like it!”

  Both her sisters stared at her in disbelief. “You’ve made that stitch a thousand times,” Eve declared.

  Noelle peered at it more closely. “I suppose I have, haven’t I?” Out of the corner of her eyes, she barely caught sight of a dark blur dashing across the square. She sighed in relief.

  “I’ll check at the inn and see what offerings we can buy to replace the bird.” Eve was shaking her head and laughing.

  “I will come as well.” Holly was already drawing on her coat.

  “Give me a moment. You’ll need help carrying it back!” Noelle hurried away from them in a rush to make a quick stop in the kitchen. Perhaps this was her chance to find out what Dash had to tell her that was so important. “Don’t leave without me!” She shouted over her shoulder. By the time she was back in the kitchen, however, Cook was standing outside the larder holding up a white slip of linen and squinting. “What is this doing in my pantry?” She asked Noelle, who snatched it out of her hands in a panic.

  “Nothing at all,” she answered before running from the room, blushing to the roots of her hair.

  Because what possible explanation could there be for one’s petticoats to be laying on the floor in the larder?

  Besides the obvious, that was.