Secret Confessions of the Enticing Duchess: A Steamy Historical Regency Romance Novel

by Olivia Bennet

  “I am well, how are you?” Lady Rosaline smiled at them both. She was amused to note Lord Stanley's blush. Surely he was too old to be discomposed by a lady. His mother turned to him with a tight smile. “Henry, my dear, would you fill Lady Rosaline’s dance card if it is not already full?”

  “Of course,” Lord Stanley made a leg before extending his arm for Rosaline to take. She let him lead her away, knowing that for some reason, Lady Stanley wanted to speak to her father alone.

  As Lord Stanley propelled her onto the dance floor, she turned to him with a smile.

  “What do you suppose they are talking about?”

  Henry returned her smile and added a blush to it. “I suppose my mother wants to give your father a chance to ask her about the goings-on at home. I expect it is of some interest to him.”

  He surprised a laugh out of her. “I suppose it is.”

  “What are we to do about this?” Martha asked through gritted teeth as they made their way to a secluded alcove where they would not be overheard.

  “You know what we have to do. We have one last card left to play.”

  Martha frowned. “Are you sure?”

  Lord Huntington sighed, “We truly do not have a choice. It is the only way to ensure that he will turn his back on her.”

  Martha nodded, “You are right.”

  “We must tread carefully in how we do it so that he will turn back to us and not retreat further.”

  Martha continued to nod. “I will think on it.”

  Percival got to his feet and made a leg when Abigail and Tommy stepped into the room. He gestured silently to the chair opposite him, before hurrying around to pull the chair out for Abigail. She smiled uncomfortably, not used to this sort of chivalry.

  But I can learn to get used to it quite fast.

  She settled in her seat, looking around to see what there was to eat. As soon as Percival took a seat, three servants came forward, carrying bowls of soup, wafting with a delicious aroma of beef.

  Abigail swallowed, feeling her stomach rumble with hunger and hoped that it was not loud enough for Percival to hear. She aimed a tight smile in his direction before tucking into her soup and hoping that they would at least supply some bread because soup alone would not be sufficient to slake her hunger. Her bowl was empty in no time, but before she could figure out how to ask for more, the servants were taking away the bowls and replacing them with plates piled with beef steak and peacock pies.

  Abigail savored the food happily, making sure to eat every last bite. She looked up, her cheeks coloring as she realized that Percival was watching her with a slight smile on his face.

  “Have I food on my face?” She touched her cheeks self-consciously.

  Percival shook his head. “You seem to be enjoying the food very much. I feel quite envious of that peacock pie.”

  The color in Abigail's cheeks increased and she glanced at Tommy before narrowing her eyes at Percival. “How nice of you to say.” She gritted through her teeth, before turning her attention back to her meal. Her glance at Tommy seemed to remind Percival of his presence, and he turned to the boy with a smile. “Are you enjoying yourself, young man?”

  Tommy nodded as was his wont, with vigor, his hair flying about from side to side. “Yes, sir, I am. So much food I don't get hungry.”

  Percival’s smile became pained. “Glad to hear it.” His eyes lifted, meeting Abigail’s in a glance full of meaning. Just what the meaning was, Abigail was not sure. She hoped that he, like herself, was thinking of making a place for Tommy in their lives. If he should balk at doing so, she could always ask her mother to take him in, but she hoped that would not be necessary.

  They completed the rest of the meal in relative silence, interspersed with pleasantries, mindful of the ears of both Tommy and the servants.

  As they finished their meal and got up to leave, Percival laid a hand on her arm, detaining her.

  “May I have a word?” he said, sotto voce.

  She turned to Tommy with a smile. “Go on up to our bedchamber, Tommy. I will be right there.”

  Tommy nodded and smiled, waved at Percival before taking off at a run. Abigail opened her mouth to tell him to walk and not run but then shrugged and closed it again. When she turned back to Percival, he was smiling at her.

  “What?”

  “You’ll make a good parent.” His eyes were full of affection and Abigail had to look away, grimacing slightly.

  “What did you want to talk about?” She did not meet his eyes as she asked, starting slightly as he grasped her elbow.

  “Come, let us retire to my study where we can speak privately,” he murmured, his eyes on the servants who were clearing the table.

  Abigail nodded her assent, and let him lead her gently down the hall to his study. She looked around the room, appreciating the walnut fittings, the brown leather seats, and the rows of books lining one wall. It was clearly a well-used and cherished space. She crossed over to the sofa and lowered herself onto it, hands clasped in her lap. He followed after her, leaning on the mahogany table in front of her, his eyes seeking hers.

  “It is good to be alone with you again.”

  That statement made her blush and she lowered her head shyly.

  “It is good to be with you again, as well.” She took a deep breath before looking up at him with liquid eyes which hid nothing of what she was feeling. Her heart was pounding and her fingers trembled the slightest bit.

  Will he kiss me now? Or do more?

  She did not know if she wanted him to or not. He had mentioned eloping and as she had managed to hold on to her virginity until now, she would have preferred to keep it until her wedding night.

  On the other hand, I would not object to a kiss.

  She could not help the smirk that widened her smile a little as she watched him watch her, as if she were a prime cut of beef and he was a starving man, just released from prison. She could well appreciate the accuracy of that imagery considering she herself had just been released from that hell hole. She got to her feet, wanting to feed him just a bit.

  It’s wrong to starve people when you have the means to satisfy them.

  The thought flitted through her mind as she got on her tip toes, eyes on his lips. His tongue darted out of his mouth and he wet his lips, making them look shiny and inviting. Her eyes were glued to them, unable to look away, the shape of his lips getting more distorted the closer she got until all she saw was a blur. She touched her own lips to his, tongue peeking out to taste his mouth. She was tentative, unsure, until he grabbed her face in his big hands and pulled her in closer. She completely relaxed her body, letting him do with her mouth what he would.

  The warmth and wetness, the nearness of his flesh to hers was a little much for her. She reached out her hands, clutching at his smooth silk waistcoat, holding on for dear life. He plundered her mouth, running his tongue over her teeth and then thrusting it deep in her mouth and suckling. She shivered in reaction, knees going weak. The only thing holding her up was her hands on his waistcoat.

  She felt the strength of his hands, trailing down her neck to her shoulders, and then smoothing down her back to hold her close. Her own hands slowly loosened on his chest, rising to his shoulders and holding on. She could not stop the hungry sound that escaped from her throat and it seemed to spur him on to greater liberties. His hands moved lower, landing on her bottom, and then he squeezed, hard.

  She jerked backward in shock, hand reaching up quick as thought and slapped his face.

  Chapter 28

  Elopement

  “I’m sorry—”

  “Forgive me—”

  They both spoke at the same time, faces red with embarrassment and arousal. Percival took a step back.

  “I overstepped my bounds. You were quite right to stop me.”

  “I just...don’t know what came over me.”

  Percival ventured a smile. “Well, whatever it was, it came just in time. You should go up to bed and get som
e rest.”

  Abigail nodded. “I will do so,” she turned away, hesitating. Not wanting to leave things up in the air, she turned her head toward him again, looking him in the eye.

  “I...did enjoy the kiss.”

  Percival nodded. “I enjoyed kissing you.”

  They both let out a quiet laugh.

  “Goodnight, Percival.” Abigail turned her head and headed for the door.

  “Sweet dreams, Abigail.”

  Percival had vacillated between obtaining a special license or going to Gretna Green. It was Lady Rosaline who made up his mind for him. If she would kick up such a fuss at Abigail staying at Northcott House, there was no way she would not turn up to object at the wedding.

  It was best to be as far away from London as possible when they tied the knot. He had decided that they would leave in the wee hours of the morning and be on their way before anyone was any the wiser.

  No doubt Mrs. Thorne would have liked to be at her daughter's wedding but they could always hold a reception at a later date once all this trouble was behind them.

  The trip from London to Gretna was not going to be a pleasant one, even in a well-sprung coach that would absorb most of the ruts and swaying. It was some three hundred miles or so from London to Gretna Green.

  Should anyone follow them, they could be forced to detour to side roads to stay out of sight.

  Percival did not travel much but he knew that to do it fast, the horses would need to be changed every thirty miles, meaning at least ten stops along the way. This increased their chance of being seen and knowledge of their journey being conveyed to Lord Huntington.

  It was a risk they’d have to take.

  In addition, he would need to hire fresh horses, making sure to give tips to encourage fast changes, buy food and drink for the journey, and find them room and board for the wedding in Gretna.

  It was a lot to plan in the short time he had.

  However intricate the plans he made, the trip was going to be tedious.

  Of course they might have to contend with delays if a horse went lame, or a wheel fell off, muddy roads, snow, or other bad weather conditions which slow down the pace.

  Percival was prepared for all of it. He would not let anything get in his way, not when Abigail’s life depended upon it.

  Abigail was a light sleeper and so the quiet knock on her door had her sitting up in bed immediately.

  “May I come in?”

  Percival’s head was floating several feet above the floor, looking disembodied in the flickering light of the candle in his hand and the fire in the grate.

  “What is it that you want, Percival?”

  “It’s time to go.” He stepped into the room, speaking quietly, clearly trying not to wake Tommy.

  “Go?”

  He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners with childish delight. “Time to elope.”

  Abigail’s heart jumped and she lifted a hand and placed it flat on her bosom as if that might slow it down.

  “Now?”

  “Yes, now. Gather your things and meet me in the foyer.”

  Abigail scrabbled out of bed, feeling a little dizzy with fear and excitement. Percival and his floating head had disappeared, taking the candle with him. The only illumination left in the room was the fire burning merrily in the fireplace. It was enough to see by, enough to gather her clothes and return them to her leather valise. Her hands shook only a little.

  She reached down and kissed Tommy on the forehead before creeping out of the room and down the stairs.

  She joined Percival in the foyer. “Will Tommy be all right here?”

  Percival frowned. “I do not take your meaning.”

  Abigail took a tired breath, “I mean, will they feed him, avail him water to wash, and look out for him?”

  Percival hesitated, his eyes darting in the direction of his aunt’s bedchambers and then to the backstairs that led to the kitchens. He seemed to have his doubts about how well Tommy would be treated.

  Abigail put down her valise. “I cannot leave him here, unprotected.”

  Percival nodded as if he understood her predicament. He walked to the little table next to the door that led down to the kitchens and rang the bell that sat upon it. Not long after, the butler came hurrying up the stairs, the buttons on his coat askew.

  Abigail was taken aback to see him come from that direction. Do they sleep in the kitchens?

  “Yes, Your Grace?” the butler said.

  Percival pointed at her. “Her Grace has a young male companion with her.”

  The butler nodded his acknowledgement. Abigail knew that everyone below stairs had already met Tommy. He had told her all about the fuss they made over him when he went to find something to eat.

  “You will take care of him while we are away.” Percival gave the butler a hard look, like he was entrusting something precious to him.

  “Of course, Your Grace,” the butler said and Abigail relaxed. Tommy would be all right, she hoped. In any case, it was too late to do anything about it now.

  Percival took her elbow and led her outside where a coach was waiting.

  Percival left Abigail at the inn as he went in search of one of the anvil priests.

  When Percival found him, the priest was surprised that he was unaccompanied. “Get your bride. I shall summon my neighbors to act as witnesses.”

  Percival could not help showing his surprise. He had expected more ceremony than this. “All right then. I shall get her presently. We are not far away.”

  The priest simply nodded disinterestedly and went off to find his witnesses. Percival got back in the coach and went to collect Abigail.

  “What? Now? I need to get dressed.” Abigail almost closed the door in Percival’s face.

  He reached out a hand to prevent her. “The priest is waiting. You look lovely as you are. Come, let us go.”

  Abigail hesitated, looking down at her attire. She was wearing a stiff silk woven gown with bold floral design with narrow three-quarter sleeves hemmed with white ruffles. She wore a pink Spencer over it, to shield her from the cold.

  Percival himself was far more elaborately dressed in a corbeau-colored, striped and pink spotted velvet coat and breeches, and white satin waistcoat, richly embroidered in silver spangles, stones and colored silks, pink satin and net-work border, lined with pink satin; very elegant and rich. This was his wedding day and he wanted to look his best.

  He held out his arm to her. “Shall we?”

  Abigail had very rarely felt this level of fear and nervousness in her life. Even finding herself locked in a dark and dreary gaol cell had not elicited this level of panic.

  I am about to wed a duke!

  The anvil priest that was to conduct their ceremony did not seem at all fazed by the caliber of nobility he had before him, so Abigail decided to take a leaf out of his book and do the same. For witnesses, the priest had brought with him a wedded couple, who smiled gently at them both but did not otherwise say much.

  Robert Elliot turned to face them, Bible in his hand. “State for me your names, please.”

  “Abigail Thorne.”

  “Percival Montagu.”

  Abigail glanced at Percival, surprised that he did not use his title.

  “Very good. Now you will stand up and declare that you are both single and with no attachments.”

  Abigail’s heart stopped, mind flashing to Lady Rosaline.

  Is Percival single, with no attachments?

  She wasn’t sure. However, she was reassured by his immediate reply in the affirmative.

  “I am single, too.”

  Robert Elliot nodded. “Did you come here of your own free will and accord?”

  They spoke at the same time. “Yes.”

  Upon receiving the affirmative answer Robert Elliot commenced filling in the printed form of the certificate.

  He turned to Percival. “Do you take this woman to be your lawful wedded wife, forsaking all others, kept to her as long
as you both shall live?”

  Percival nodded, “I do.”

  The priest turned to Abigail, asking her the same question.

  Her voice shook but she got the words out. “I do.”

  Abigail produced the ring Percival had handed her on the way over. She gave it back to him and he in turn handed it to the priest, who then returned it to Percival, “Put it on the fourth finger of the woman’s left hand and repeat these words,” he ordered Percival, “with this ring I thee wed, with my body I thee worship, with all my worldly goods I thee endow in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Ghost, Amen.”