Somewhere deep in the house a clock chimed, and Louisa groaned, laying her head against his chest.
“We must get ready. We have the Sloane ball this evening.” She pulled back abruptly. “And you haven’t even had time to tell me how the vote went.” Her face was a riddle of banked excitement and consternation. He couldn’t help but smile.
“The bill was passed.”
Her face split into a smile so quickly his heart raced at her sudden joy. She threw her arms around his neck, and he was forced to catch her as the momentum picked her up off her feet. Her mouth found his in an exhilarating kiss before she pulled back, her smile bigger than ever.
“I knew you would do it! Does this mean the roads will be repaired?”
He held her against his chest, warmth and light radiating through him as if thawing him from a great chill.
“It means a committee will be formed to devise the funds for the project. You know how these government things work. There’s always a committee.”
She laughed and kissed him again. “But now you’ve made a start of it. You should be so proud of yourself and the work you’ve done for the farmers in—” Her brow furrowed, confusion painting her face. “Do you know I don’t know where your country seat is? In fact, I know very little about you or your family, which I think should be concerning, don’t you?”
Now he couldn’t help but laugh.
“It’s in Hampshire. Not more than a day’s ride to Ashbourne Manor.”
If he had thought her elated before, now she was a veritable surge of excitement at having heard her summer home would be so close to her sister’s. That was, if she wished to summer there. Likely for the first time, he realized these decisions now involved another person. He had no issue with staying in London for the summer, but he thought Louisa would enjoy the respite and fresh air. They would need to discuss it soon as the season was already drawing to an end.
“Is it truly? I can’t wait to see it.”
“I haven’t been there in some time. I’m not precisely sure as to its state.”
Her eyes moved about him in a circular motion, a frown coming to her lips. “I can’t imagine it’s any worse than this.”
He followed her gaze about the room. “Yes, there isn’t even adequate furniture on which to make love to my wife. It certainly is a travesty.”
Even though the sun had set, he didn’t miss the blush that stained her cheeks at his words, and he loved having that effect on her.
“Do not make such suggestions, Your Grace. Not now at any rate. We’re already late.”
He was suddenly seized by the impossibility of the moment. Had it only been months before when he would not have conceived of this moment ever occurring? This beautiful woman, awash in moonlight, was his wife. By law she belonged to him, but it was so much more than that. He could feel it in the way he could breathe easier than he had in years, in the way he looked forward to waking up, finding her in his arms, in the way his heart skittered when she asked him about his work in Parliament.
It was the first time anyone had seen him and not the charade of the Beastly Duke.
She shifted as if to move from his arms, but he held fast, suddenly gripped by a desire so strong he could never refute it.
“Wait.” The single word shot through the empty room with a ringing echo. “What if we don’t go? What if we stay in, just the two of us? One night without the ton playing witness to our every move?”
He cared not a whit what society thought of him or his doings, but he knew Louisa cared a great deal about her role as his duchess, and he didn’t wish to upset her. The notion that he should care for another’s feelings was utterly alien to him, so much so that his heart clenched against the idea. He willed it open, forced himself to take the next dangerous step in an already perilous dance.
Her face changed, right there before him, shifting in the moonlight. It was like watching a tulip open in the spring, its petals peeling away to reveal the vibrant center.
He had done that. With just his words, he’d transformed her face, and the feeling rocked him.
“What did you have in mind?” Her voice had grown soft and wondering, and instead of answering, he leaned down and captured her mouth in a searing kiss.
She rose up to meet him, returning his kiss with an ardor all her own. He caught her up, pressed her bodily against him and devoured her. He didn’t know how much time had passed when he lifted her into his arms and made to leave the room.
“Wait.”
He stopped, the movement sending her more tightly against his chest.
“What if we…well, there’s…”
She pointed at a place behind him, and he turned to find a sofa set to one side that he had not seen when he’d entered. He looked back to find she’d gone entirely scarlet in his arms.
“Your Grace, are you suggesting we employ the services of that sofa for the purposes of our moonlit tryst?”
She opened her mouth, but no sound emerged. His darling innocent wife was dipping her toe into a sensuality she had only begun to explore, and he had to admit he was impressed by her boldness.
“Yes,” she finally said as if she were doing nothing more than selecting a fish course.
He deposited her on the sofa before she could change her mind. Her hair had come undone at some point and hung in thick curls about her face. He slipped his hands beneath it, cradling her head so he could pull her into a kiss.
It wasn’t long before his hands itched to explore, and they traveled down the length of her pale neck, loosening the ties of her bodice, his mouth following the trail. He nibbled kisses along the exposed line of her décolletage, savoring the smoothness of her pale skin. His hands had moved on, finding the hem of her skirts and pushing them up. He traced the curve of her knee through her stocking, tiptoed his fingers up the inner sanctum of her thigh. She moaned and arched against him.
“Sebastian, please.”
He knew now of what she begged, but he still made her ask for it.
“Do you want me to touch you, darling?” he murmured against the soft column of her neck.
Her fingers were in his hair, her fingernails doing wicked things to him, and he shuddered against her until she pushed him back, her hands against his shoulders holding him steady.
“I want more than just your touch.” Her tone was deep and beckoning, and he throbbed against the tight fabric of his trousers.
“Then you shall have it.”
He made to resume his torturous work, but she stilled him, her eyes searching his face.
“I don’t know why you do that to your hair with all this ghastly pomade.” Her eyes moved back and forth, and he wondered just what she saw. “The real you is by far superior to the facade you’ve created.” She placed a single hand against his cheek. “Why don’t you let everyone see you?”
His heart squeezed so much he was sure it would stop beating entirely, and in that moment, with her spread out before him, bathed in moonlight, he knew.
He’d fallen in love with her.
He loved her.
The words came to his lips before he knew they’d formed, his body compelling him to tell her, only he couldn’t. He stopped, the words lodging in his throat like a lump. Instead, he kissed her, poured all he was feeling into it, hoping somehow she’d understand.
Her hips came up off the sofa, grinding into him.
“Louisa.” It was his turn to moan her name when his fingers found her hot core already wet for him.
He hardly had time to undo his trousers. He scrambled, his hands shaking like he was some unschooled dandy.
Sex had never meant anything to him beyond the physical release, and now it was the most important thing. He had to pleasure her. He wanted to pleasure her.
He had to make her see how much he loved her.
He entered her in a single, hard thrust. She bucked, clutching at his shoulders as she threw her head back. He knew he wouldn’t last long and licking his thumb, he set it
against her sensitive nub, rubbing in slow circles as he thrust inside of her.
“Oh God, Sebastian.”
She was just as ready as he was, and when she convulsed around him, he let himself go.
He didn’t know how much later, he heard her soft laugh through his sex-muddled brain.
“What is it?” he whispered, unable to pick his head up from where he’d collapsed atop her.
“You’re still wearing your coat.”
Chapter 14
Williams brushed her hair the next morning as she sat in front of her looking glass, poking at the bruised skin beneath her eyes.
When Sebastian had suggested they stay in for the evening, she hadn’t realized he did not have a restful night at home in mind. He’d kept her up most of it with his passionate lovemaking, and her body ached this morning for sleep.
But she didn’t regret a single moment of it.
After they had thoroughly utilized the sofa in her small room, he’d carried her to his bedchamber where they’d locked themselves in until the sun rose, only ringing for a tea tray when their hunger grew insurmountable.
Her husband was a dedicated and generous lover. She wondered if other husbands were as attentive to their wives. Based on the whispers she’d heard at any number of society gatherings, she highly doubted it.
She let out a wistful sigh, her shoulders slumping.
Williams poked her ever so slightly between the shoulders, and she straightened again, repositioning her head so her lady’s maid could finish pinning the curls in place.
“You’re a right dreamy one this morning, madam.”
“I suppose I am,” she said, studying her reflection and hoping the bruised circles weren’t so noticeable.
There was to be a luncheon of the Mayfair Garden Society that day, and the new Louisa was determined to try new things and perhaps discover something interesting along the way. She’d never had such leisure time to explore, and she would do her best with it.
Although if she were honest, she wasn’t quite sure she cared about gardening overly much. It was all rather sad to watch the blooms die and the plants hibernate for the cold, dreary winter. Perhaps the joy was found in the plants returning in spring. She gave a mental shrug. She would just need to see is all.
“Marriage is sitting well with you, is it then, madam?”
The question might have been impertinent coming from anyone else, but Williams had been with her for years. They had practically grown up together, and the question slid into their conversation like any other.
“Oh, it is at that. His Grace is—” She struggled to find the right word to describe Sebastian, but everyone she selected seemed somehow unsuitable. “Well, he’s…”
“Rather not like how he is to other people, wouldn’t you say, madam?”
Williams picked up the hot curling tongs from the porcelain dish on the dressing table and tamed a particular errant strand.
“Yes, he is rather,” Louisa muttered, watching Williams’ reflection in the mirror.
That was precisely what it was. She felt as though every time she encountered him, she discovered him anew. Some hidden feature, some small facet, all of which he kept hidden from public view.
All of which she got to keep for herself.
While the thought warmed her, it also brought her a pang of sadness. It wasn’t right that he should hide himself so. Sebastian was a kind, generous, intelligent man who, while rather direct in his manner, held honor and respect above all else.
Her warring thoughts matched her roiling emotions. She was still unsettled by what his mother had said at her preposterous, self-serving tea. Had the woman seriously thought to form some sort of alliance with Louisa? Against whom? Sebastian? The woman’s son and Louisa’s husband? How absurd. Perhaps it was flattering, though. They said if one could not defeat one’s enemy, it was best to join ranks. But that was certainly ludicrous as well.
Louisa would never form any kind of relationship with the woman. She’d seen the evidence of the damage the woman had wrought. Louisa found herself the victim of the woman’s machinations, doomed to love a man who could never love her in return.
She had been so certain something had changed between them last night. There had been a moment when she was sure something had shifted, something was different, and perhaps Sebastian had succumbed to the inevitable. But then the moment had passed, and no words were spoken. He’d made love to her just as ardently as he ever had, but there was still an unfathomable distance between them, and she feared there was nothing that could vanquish it.
She considered her own reflection. Williams had finished with her hair, and as usual, it was twisted up in the most divine creation Louisa had ever seen. Her skin was flawless, her looks fair if she were to judge although they had not really meant anything to her. She valued her health far more than her appearance, and that had always been robust.
The reminder of her good health had her thoughts skittering to what Sebastian had said so many nights ago now.
Could he have been right?
For the first time in more than twenty years, she pictured a different possibility. What if she hadn’t brought illness into the house? What if she hadn’t killed her mother?
She shook her head, a single curl bouncing free as she attempted to clear her thoughts. She couldn’t ask such a question of her sisters. It was too painful, and they didn’t deserve to suffer again. Louisa would just keep silent. She’d carried on for this long with the idea of what had transpired. There was no sense in changing it now.
Williams gave a soft tsking sound as she touched Louisa’s shoulder to have her hold still while she fixed the curl.
“I’m terribly sorry,” Louisa muttered to Williams’ reflection, feeling every bit the recalcitrant child.
“’Tis no worry, madam.” Williams’ deft fingers plied the curl back into place, and with a small twist of a hairpin, Louisa was once more set to rights.
“Thank you, Williams.”
Williams gave a nod of her head as she gathered up Louisa’s night-rail for laundering.
“Madam, if I may.”
Louisa turned, her fingers idly straightening the string pearls about her neck so that they lay just as she liked.
“Yes, of course, Williams, what is it?”
Williams gathered the laundry against herself as she prepared to leave. “It’s only that you should think about getting better rest. The Kittridge ball is tomorrow night, and you know it’s the event of the season. You shouldn’t wish to be under the weather for it. It’s your first one as a duchess, after all.”
Louisa’s face flamed at the intimation in Williams suggestion. It wasn’t as though Louisa could very well hide the fact that she’d been up all night making love to her husband, at least not from her lady’s maid. Lady’s maids were privy to far too much, and it was only a woman’s skill at discretion and a servant’s aptitude for loyalty that kept a lady’s secrets safe.
Realization struck all at once and erupted in an exclamation from Louisa before she could stop it. Williams’ eyes grew round as she rushed to Louisa’s side, laundry entirely forgotten.
“Your Grace, what is it? Whatever is the matter?”
Louisa couldn’t stop herself. She grabbed both of the woman’s arms as she gained her feet.
“Williams, you’re brilliant. Of course! Why didn’t I see it earlier?”
Louisa searched the servant’s face as though more were to be found there, but she knew it wouldn’t. She’d already been given the biggest clue. She had only to know where to look.
“Her lady’s maid knows the truth,” Louisa hissed.
Williams’ face grew concerned as she attempted to free her arms.
“Whose lady’s maid, madam? Are you all right? Shall I fetch a doctor?”
Louisa shook her head so quickly she was sure she would upset the pins Williams had just so carefully placed.
“No, it’s utterly brilliant. Williams, you’ve done it.”
She couldn’t help it. She pulled the maid into her arms for a thorough hug. When she was sure she had scandalized the poor servant, she released her. “Williams, I am going to need your assistance.”
Perhaps this was it. This could be her chance at uncovering the truth about the moment in time that had changed Sebastian indubitably and forever. Maybe, just maybe, if she could find out what had really happened that night, she could heal his wounds, and then maybe he could love her.
Her body flooded with hope, and she nearly danced with it.
“Williams, I must speak with the Viscountess of Raynham’s lady’s maid.”
* * *
Louisa had thought to simply arrange a meeting between the Viscountess Raynham’s lady maid and herself through a discreet method of communication only to discover Viscountess Raynham’s lady’s maid had only been in her employ for the past six years. The maid they sought had moved on to a loftier position, that of housekeeper for an earl.
Louisa couldn’t believe her luck when Williams brought her the news. It would be far easier for Louisa to arrange a conversation with the woman if she were not still under the nose of the viscountess.
Louisa was already shoving her arms into her pelisse when she asked, “And to which earl is she employed?”
“The Earl of Bannerbridge, madam.”
Louisa went completely still in her mad frenzy to depart. “The Earl of Bannerbridge?”
Williams gave a quick nod. “So it would seem, yes.”
Louisa left the house with far less enthusiasm as it was apparent she was to encounter the earl’s insipid wife once more.
She was surprised to find herself received immediately upon brandishing her card at the earl’s door. Louisa wasn’t certain if it were her title or her name which gained her entrance, but she wasn’t about to question it. She was shown into a spacious drawing room decorated in pale pinks and sage. She was too nervous to sit and so she was standing when the countess entered.
“Your Grace, I wasn’t expecting you,” the countess said by way of greeting, dipping into a curtsy as she entered.
The Duke and the Lady Page 18
