by Aston, Alexa
“Why don’t we all sit?” the duke suggested. “Tea will be here any moment.”
The door opened and two footmen rolled in the teacarts. They settled themselves and Gilford said, “Since Dalinda is gone, would you do the honors of pouring out, Lady Dunwood?”
“Of course, Your Grace,” she replied, busying herself as the others made up plates from the sandwiches and sweets that had been brought.
Once everyone had a cup in hand, Ashlyn told them a bit about Dunwood Academy and the various boys and their instructors.
“Lady Dunwood employs traditional methods of instruction alongside more unique ones,” Gilford said. “I was fortunate enough to see some of the classes in action.”
“What do you differently?” Lady Crampton asked. “I know Miss Wight, the girls’ governess, would be interested. Harriet and Jane would be, too.”
“I believe you learn more by active participation. So much of learning is passive. Take horseback riding, for instance. Before you get on a horse, you learn some of the basics. How to sit and hold your reins, for example. But nothing compares to actually being on the back of a horse and experiencing a ride. I feel learning is the same way. I push my students to become involved in their own learning.”
“Give us some examples,” Lord Weston urged. “This sounds fascinating.”
Ashlyn did so, with the duke chiming in with examples of what he’d seen during his visit to the academy.
“Sounds a far cry from our schooldays,” Lord Crampton said. “Even at university. How did you hit upon such an idea, Lady Dunwood?”
“I wanted to help special boys. Those who’d experienced trouble learning at other schools. Some of my boys do come to us with slight behavior problems.”
“She’s speaking of my half-brothers, just in case you weren’t aware,” the duke said.
“Through teaching my own very active son, I found he learned better—and faster—and retained things longer by becoming a part of learning.”
“Oh, I didn’t realize you had a son,” Lady Weston said. “Is he at school with you or elsewhere?”
Ashlyn swallowed. “He passed away three years ago, my lady.”
Lady Weston reached for her hand and squeezed it gently. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “That must have been dreadful.”
“It was the most difficult experience of my life,” she admitted. “But I help other boys now. They have become as my own family.”
“You should see the miracle she’s wrought with Arthur and Harry. They left here surly and grumpy and yet a few weeks later, they are enthusiastic and well-mannered.”
“Enough of Dunwood Academy. Please tell me more of yourselves.”
Lady Weston smiled. “Yes, gentlemen. Tell us more.” She looked to Ashlyn. “Charlotte and I love hearing about the three of them and their growing up years. They were quite something.”
The rest of teatime passed pleasantly, with much laughter as the men told stories on one another from their youth and university years. She noticed they didn’t speak of their time at war, though, and decided it must have been difficult.
The door opened and three children appeared, two older girls and a boy toddling behind them. A woman Ashlyn assumed was their governess followed them in.
“Lady Dunwood, I’d like you to meet my nieces, Lady Harriet and Lady Jane,” said Lord Crampton.
The girls made their curtseys and greeted her.
He then scooped up the boy. “And this is Viscount Warren.”
His son awarded a wet kiss to his father and the earl handed the boy to his mother, who said, “If you’ll excuse us, we like to read with the children after tea each day.”
“I’ll go with you,” Lord Weston said. “Gemma likes to lie down a bit after tea.” He took her hand and brushed a kiss upon her fingers. “She tires easily these days.” Looking to Ashlyn, he said, “We’ll see you at dinner, Lady Dunwood.”
The two couples and children left and she found herself alone with Lord Gilford.
“Would you care to see Gillingham?” he asked. “I’m quite proud of it.”
“I’d be happy to take a tour, Your Grace,” Ashlyn said.
The duke offered her his arm and she slid her hand into the crook, catching a whiff of his cologne. All through the witty banter of teatime, she’d been aware of him watching her. She sensed the growing attraction between them. Not just on her part, but his, as well. She wondered again what it would be like to be kissed by him, a man in the prime of his life. Licking her lips, she left the drawing room with him, telling herself this tour was merely a friendly gesture and a way to pass the time before dinner began.
Or not.
Chapter Nine
Ashlyn enjoyed seeing the parts of the house Gilford led her through, especially the gallery displaying portraits of the previous dukes and their families.
“You’ll have to have your portrait painted now that you’ve gained the title,” she suggested.
“I suppose I shall. I’ll need to find an artist to make me appear strong and handsome, as my father was.”
“You are strong and handsome,” she said. “Quit fishing for compliments.”
He waggled his eyebrow. “I’m glad you think so highly of me.”
She snorted. “Looks don’t matter to me, Your Grace. It’s a person’s character that makes him or her worthy.”
The duke’s gaze seemed to penetrate to her soul. “Then I will have to make sure you find mine worthy, my lady.”
He took her arm and guided her downstairs. She had to think to breathe, being so near him.
“I’d show you more of the house but a few of the wings are closed and wouldn’t be worth seeing.”
“It is a rather large house. Will you ever open it up entirely?”
“I plan to once I fill it with children—and they fill it with their children.”
“Do you have a lady in mind to help you in this venture?” she asked lightly, chiding herself for the personal question and yet eager to hear his response.
“Actually, I do,” he replied, his lips twitching in amusement. “She is a very beautiful woman, both in her outward appearance and on the inside. She will make for a most excellent duchess.”
His words cut her to the quick. They shouldn’t have. He was a man in the prime of his life. A new duke, wealthy and powerful. Of course, he would want to wed and see that he had an heir.
Yet the thought of him with another woman made her eyes smart with tears. She glanced away and blinked several times, willing them not to fall. Now more than ever, she had to hide her growing feelings from him.
“Shall we go outside? I’d like for you to see my stables. I’m quite proud of the horseflesh at Gillingham.”
“Certainly,” she said.
As they left the house, he told her, “I wish we had more time. I’d take you riding about the estate and show it off, as well.”
“I haven’t ridden in years, Your Grace. It’s probably best we don’t.”
“Why haven’t you?” he asked, obviously baffled.
“I rode frequently as a child with my father. He had no sons and so took me about the estate with him as he talked with his tenants and saw to repairs. Then I married and didn’t have much of an opportunity to ride where I lived.”
“But you have many horses now and your students ride often.”
“I don’t ride with them,” she revealed. “It’s a time when the house is quiet and I see to other things. Meet with their tutors. See to paperwork and bills. Frankly, it’s been so long since I’ve been on horseback, I may have forgotten how to ride.”
He shook his head. “No one forgets how to ride, Lady Dunwood. You might need a lesson or two to refresh you but it would all come back.”
“I suppose I could ask Mr. Jarrett to help me.”
“No,” the duke said quickly. “It would be awkward for him to instruct his employer in what to do.”
Ashlyn didn’t think so, knowing how determined and deliberate her
groom was.
“I will take you out myself,” Gilford proclaimed.
“What?” Ashlyn became flustered. “No, Your Grace. I cannot take up your valuable time. You have so many responsibilities.”
“As do you, my lady,” he said with a grin. “Riding is a pleasurable activity. You’re denying yourself the enjoyment.” He paused. “Everyone needs a little fun in their lives every now and then. Wouldn’t you agree?”
By now, they’d entered the stables and she paused to stroke a horse who stuck its head from the stall because she didn’t trust herself to answer the duke. Riding with him would be fun—but it wouldn’t lead anywhere. He’d already told her he was going to ask someone to marry him. Ashlyn couldn’t be around Gilford anymore.
Because she wanted him for herself.
She never would have thought it possible to dream of being with a man again physically. Not after her one night of limited experience with Daniel. No man had held her attention as Gilford did. He was smart and funny and curious about everything. It was imperative that she limit her interactions with him. She couldn’t avoid him entirely, not with Arthur and Harry attending Dunwood Academy, but those would only be rare occasions in which they would meet. She needed distance from this man, as soon as possible, and would have it once this day ended.
“Thunder likes you,” he said and reached up to join her as she stroked the magnificent black beast before them. “He’s a devil to ride but I’ve always been up for a challenge.”
His gaze met hers, heat in his eyes, and a frisson of desire rippled through her. For a moment, she could only stare at him before she forced herself to turn away.
“I should return to the house and prepare for dinner,” she murmured.
“Of course. I’ll escort you.”
Gilford took her hand and tucked it through his arm. She wanted to rip it away and run as fast as she could, never looking back. Instead, she strolled slowly back to the house, emotions churning as a maelstrom within her.
He took her up the stairs, saying, “I’ve had a room prepared for your use. Your valise was taken there. Charlotte and Gemma both offered the services of their abigail to you so you will have someone to help you dress for dinner.”
They arrived at a door and he lifted her hand to his lips, pressing a tender kiss upon her knuckles. “I’ve enjoyed having you at Gillingham today, Lady Dunwood.”
“Yes,” she said breathlessly. “It was wonderful meeting your friends.”
“They are more like family to me. I don’t know what I would do without them.”
Once more, he lifted her hand to his lips and brushed a kiss against her fingers. “I’ll see you at dinner.”
Gilford left and Ashlyn floated inside the bedchamber.
“You are mad,” she told herself, the good feelings dissipating as she tried to ground herself in reality. “He is charming to everyone. You are no one special. He’s being nice to you because you are helping him with his brothers. There’s nothing more to it.”
A basin of water sat nearby and she splashed cool water on her face, trying to calm herself. Drying her face, she turned and saw her evening gown draped across the bed, all the wrinkles pressed away. Her stockings and shoes were laid out beside it, along with her gloves. Moments later, a servant arrived and helped her to dress for dinner.
“You look lovely, my lady,” the maid said. “The gown matches your eyes.”
Ashlyn had chosen to bring a gown she rarely wore. It was the nicest one she owned, in a shade of deep purple. She never dressed for dinner at the academy, wearing the same gown from the day to the evening meal. Her instructors did the same and dinner was an understated affair, taking place shortly after her pupils dined together.
The maid took her downstairs so she wouldn’t lose her way in the vast house and Ashlyn found she was the last to arrive. She saw the warm approval in Gilford’s eyes and felt her cheeks heating.
Dinner was as pleasant as teatime had been, with many stories tossed about and much laughter had. Ashlyn couldn’t remember when she’d enjoyed adult company so much. When it came time for the ladies to withdraw and leave the men to their port and cigars, she was surprised when they all rose from the table. Gilford came to her and escorted her from the dining room.
“Aren’t you gentlemen staying after for your port and conversation?”
The duke chuckled. “Why? I’ve spent over two decades in Burke and Gray’s company. I’d rather be with three beautiful women anytime.”
They adjourned to the drawing room and Gilford urged Lady Crampton to sing and play for them. She readily agreed and Lord Crampton accompanied his wife to the far side of the room, sitting beside her on the bench before the pianoforte even though no music pages were in sight for him to turn. Ashlyn realized the earl merely wished to be near his wife as he slipped an arm about her waist as she began to play.
The music went on for half an hour and when it concluded, she applauded with enthusiasm.
“You play remarkably well, Lady Crampton, but your voice is that of an angel,” she praised.
“I do enjoy music. I’ve taught Harriet and Jane to play. Harriet is more inclined to art but Jane is a serious musician. I think the time will soon come when she surpasses me.”
Lord Crampton lifted his wife’s hand and kissed her fingers. “Your fingers look quite tired, Charlotte. I think we should give them some rest after all that playing.” He turned to the others. “If you’ll excuse us?”
From the look in the earl’s eyes, Ashlyn didn’t think Lady Crampton’s fingers—or anything else—would be getting much rest.
“It was lovely meeting you, Lady Dunwood,” Lady Crampton said. “I hope we can see each other soon.”
As they left, Lord Weston rose and pulled his wife to her feet. “Gemma and I are also ready to call it a night,” he proclaimed. “We were delighted to make your acquaintance, Lady Dunwood.”
“Yes,” Lady Weston echoed. “I would love for you to come to Westbrook sometime and stay for a few days.” She rubbed her belly. “I know the time is coming when I won’t get out much and will be eager for company. Please tell me you’ll come.”
“Perhaps for an afternoon, my lady,” Ashlyn said, not wanting to be pinned down to a promise. “I rarely leave my boys.”
The countess nodded wisely. “I will hold you to a visit, my lady. Goodnight to you both.”
Once they left, Ashlyn started to speak up that it was time for her to go, as well, but the duke went to a table with crystal decanters and asked, “Would you like a sherry? Or a brandy, my lady?”
She shouldn’t. She really shouldn’t. But the thought of leaving him and driving away, never to have any time alone with him ever again made her reckless.
“A brandy would be lovely, Your Grace.”
He poured the amber liquid into two glasses and joined her on the settee. Raising his glass, he said, “To friends—both old and new.”
Ashlyn sipped the liquid, which burned a path from her tongue down her throat, pooling in her belly and spreading warmth throughout her.
But the heat that was already present before her first sip was due to the presence of the man beside her.
Gilford drained his tumbler. Hers still had brandy remaining but he lifted it from her fingers and set both aside. He continued to gaze at her intently until she grew so warm, she thought she might faint. The air crackled between them.
And then he brought his fingers to her cheek and stroked it gently.
His touch almost undid her.
Ashlyn sucked in a quick breath before all the air left the room. Both Gilford’s hands cupped her face, his palms like fire against her flesh.
“Do you know how beautiful you are?” he asked softly.
She licked her lips nervously. “No. No one ever told me so.”
His crooked smile caused her heart to skip a beat.
“Then everyone else is a fool.”
He leaned toward her slowly, his hands keeping her in pla
ce as if he knew she would flee as a scared rabbit might from the hounds. Ashlyn’s heart pounded against her ribs fiercely. She began trembling.
His lips paused just before they touched hers. “Are you afraid?”
“No,” she whispered.
But she was. Afraid she would ignite if he kissed her. When he kissed her. Afraid of what she would feel. And how the hurt would never heal once he did. She wasn’t the one meant for him. Another woman was. Yet in this moment, Ashlyn behaved totally out of character and threw caution to the wind.
She wanted him to kiss her. Touch her. Make her feel alive. For years, she’d bottled up all emotion within her. Until this man came along.
His lips still hovered just above hers. “I want to kiss you. Will you let me?” he asked.
Her reply was to bring her hands to his shoulders and pull him toward her.
Their lips collided and the sparks she feared did ignite. She wanted to gobble him up but he showed more restraint.
“Easy,” he murmured against her mouth and she kept her hands on his shoulders but tried not to clutch him.
Slowly, he brushed his lips against hers, over and over, softly, tenderly. Ashlyn felt herself melting. Relaxing. Wanting. What, she didn’t know, except that he knew how to give it to her.
Gradually, he increased the pressure and began kissing her with more ardor. His thumbs caressed her cheeks, his hands still holding her in place. She tightened her hold on his shoulders. The kisses became faster. Harder. Making her heart beat wildly.
And then his tongue brushed against her lips, back and forth across the seam.
She had no idea what he was doing or why he did it but she liked it. It became more insistent and he parted her lips. His tongue entered her mouth, sweeping along her tongue and teeth, bringing a delicious sense of warmth and excitement. Daniel hadn’t done anything like this. Not even close.
