by Olivia Drake
Hadrian chuckled. “Never fear, I’ll oblige you soon enough.”
His enigmatic gaze flicked to Natalie. Even though she knew he must be referring to Lady Ellen, a shiver stirred over her skin, coursing through her bosom and down to her depths. She resisted the errant sensation with ruthless resolve. Their arrival at his London house had only underscored the fundamental differences in their worlds. It would serve no purpose to indulge such longing when nothing could ever come of it.
“Tippy, I trust you’ll watch over Leo while I show Miss Fanshawe to her rooms.”
“’Twill be a pleasure, Your Grace. Rest assured, me and Flora will keep the mite safe and happy.”
That prediction was confirmed by Leo himself. He scarcely even looked up from his puzzle when Natalie told him she’d return in a little while. On her way out the door, she caught a glimpse of his towheaded form bent over the table, swinging his legs and giggling at something Flora said to him.
Hadrian’s hand came to rest at the small of Natalie’s back as he guided her down a nearby staircase. “Leo is a very adaptable lad. And you won’t be too far from him, I promise.”
Realizing that he must have seen a trace of worry on her face, she confessed, “He’s been my sole responsibility for so many months that it’s difficult to leave him in the care of someone else.”
“It’ll be good for him. You’ll see.”
Natalie hoped so. She reminded herself it would be cruel to keep the boy dependent on her, making their eventual parting all the more difficult. But she didn’t want to think about that now. Not with Hadrian so close to her.
The light pressure of his palm felt unbearably intimate, its warmth penetrating her gown like a lover’s touch. A tingling desire flowed through her veins and wreaked havoc with her equilibrium. If she fretted about anything, it ought to be her desire for a man who could have no place in her future.
At the bottom of the staircase, he ushered her through a nearby doorway and into a large bedchamber done in a pleasing décor of pastel blues and yellows. She gazed in delight at the dainty French furniture, the glass-fronted bookcase, the elegant writing desk. Gauzy curtains on the windows rippled in the breeze and cast a filtered sunlight over a seating area with a sofa and gilt chairs.
To one side stood the loveliest canopied bed she had ever seen. Swaths of silk in robin’s-egg blue with lemon-yellow trim draped the four posts. The white coverlet was embroidered with the daffodils that gave the room its name.
A maid in black uniform and snowy apron, a mobcap over her brown hair, had just finished plumping the row of feather pillows. She bobbed a respectful curtsy. “’Tis ready, Your Grace. Fresh linens, the room is aired, and the lady’s valise unpacked. There’s only the windows to close again.”
Natalie smiled at her. “I’ll do that in a little while, thank you. You’ll have me feeling entirely too pampered.”
She did feel pampered. After living in a log cabin in the wilderness, the luxurious surroundings made her feel as if she’d tumbled into a dream world.
The fresh, cool air drew her across the room to the bank of windows. She parted the filmy curtains and peered out at an expansive garden below, where pebbled pathways meandered among mature trees and shrubbery. Green shoots in the flower beds heralded springtime, as did the leaf buds on the trees. The scene looked so bucolic that only the distant rooftops confirmed that she was in the midst of a great city.
“I trust the accommodations meet with your approval.”
Hadrian’s voice at her shoulder made her spin around. His nearness caused a fluttering in her bosom. He stood only a scant foot away, his gray eyes smoky in the diffused sunlight. A slight smile tilted his mouth, as if he harbored wicked thoughts that involved kissing … and more.
In the absence of all common sense, she burned to feel his strong arms holding her close, his lips pressed to hers, his hands caressing her bare skin. A tantalizing warmth spread through her body until she scarcely noticed the bracing breeze from the windows. It would be so easy to forget her vow to resist him …
When one of his eyebrows lifted inquiringly, she realized he was waiting for her response. “The room is perfect, and you’re right, it’s close enough to the nursery. In truth, it’s so lovely that I feel as overindulged as Leo.” Edgy in his presence, she glanced past the duke’s broad-shouldered form toward the bed. It was then that she noticed they were alone. “Where is the maid?”
“I sent her away.”
“You know very well it’s improper for us to be alone in a bedchamber. You’ll have to leave at once.”
Hadrian made no move to depart. With his slightly aquiline nose and aristocratic features, his snow-white cravat and tailored blue coat, he looked every inch the English duke, the master of all this luxury and wealth. “Since the door is open, only a stickler would call it an impropriety,” he said reasonably. “As for Leo being overindulged, I don’t wish for that to happen, either. You made an excellent compromise with my mother.”
“Did I?” Aware of a bottled-up tension, Natalie brushed past him to pace the soft carpet, her hem swishing around her ankles. “A gift every week, when he already has more than enough playthings in the nursery. That’s fifty-two presents a year, not counting birthday and Christmas.”
“It’s an improvement over him receiving them all at once.”
“Fiddle! He isn’t accustomed to owning even a fraction of that. He’s a sweet, unselfish boy, and I shudder to think of him growing up spoiled. No one should require so many things to make them happy. You yourself spoke to your mother about the benefits of austerity.”
Hadrian stood listening to her tirade, a faint frown on his brow. “Are we quarreling about toys—or about your gowns?”
“Toys! Oh, blast.” Natalie bit off her words at the astuteness of his observation. The tension inside her did have a deal to do with him wanting to array her in fashionable garb. “Now that you mention it, I find that expenditure appalling, too. Though it’s kind of your sister to offer the gowns, it’s a tremendously costly gift—and from someone I only met this very day.”
“Lizzy can be very generous, and so can my mother. You saw how happy it made them.”
Natalie couldn’t dispute that. The ladies had been delighted to be given the task of replenishing her wardrobe. And she couldn’t deny, either, that in the depths of her soul she harbored the same covetous desire as any woman for new clothes. But not when those items must have cost a king’s ransom.
“I’ve never accepted charity, and I don’t wish to start now,” she explained. “I’d sooner go without than feel beholden to someone else. And don’t try to tell me there’s no expense involved. Your sister could sell those gowns back to the shop and recoup at least a portion of their cost.”
He leaned his shoulder against the bedpost and watched her pace back and forth. “That’s very practical-minded of you,” he said with a slight smile. “But it’s also practical to spruce up your apparel for those times when we’ll be taking Leo out and about town to see the sights. It’s likely we’ll encounter acquaintances of mine, and you’ll want to look your best when meeting the fashion plates of society.”
She stopped in her tracks, glaring at him. “Are you saying you’re ashamed to be seen in the company of a dowdy mongrel from America?”
His smile vanished, his dark eyebrows clashing in a frown. “Of course not. You couldn’t be more mistaken.”
“Oh? It sounds as if you believe the upper crust won’t accept me as I am. Never fear, I’ll borrow a few of the gowns and make myself presentable enough to pass muster with your friends.”
He strode forward to fasten his hands to her shoulders. “Listen to me, Natalie. You’ve taken this all wrong. I could never be ashamed of you even if you were garbed in sackcloth and ashes. You’re a beautiful woman, inside and out, and should anyone in society dare to scorn you, they will know my wrath.”
The ringing sincerity in his words went a long way toward easing her wounded pride. H
e looked fierce and formidable, a nobleman who would use his power to protect those who mattered to him. The knowledge that he would do so on her behalf burrowed deeply into Natalie’s heart, dissolving the rest of her anger and leaving her vulnerable to the rise of an unruly warmth.
Shaken, she covered her confusion by saying, “They’ll know my wrath, too, I’m afraid. So I may embarrass you yet.”
A grin flickered over his lips, then vanished. Reaching up, he tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Then you’ll want to be well armed for the battle. Society can be judgmental, and fashion is one essential part of a lady’s armor against the gossips. That’s all I meant, Natalie. You’ll feel far more at ease if your appearance meets the standards of the ton.”
She felt foolish for having misapprehended his purpose. Proper dress had been important in Washington, too, when she had acted as her father’s hostess. A remorseful smile touched her lips. “I owe you an apology, then. I shouldn’t have assumed the worst.”
His eyes warming, he caressed her shoulders a moment before dropping his arms to his sides. “I ought to have explained myself better. And by the way, you needn’t feel like an outsider. It’s likely you’re related to a number of England’s best families. My mother will be more than happy to pore over Debrett’s and help you decipher your ancestry.”
“Debrett’s?”
“It’s a book that records the family histories of all the peerages and baronetages. My mother delights in tracing my lineage, since her own is not included.”
The prospect intrigued Natalie, though she reminded herself that noble bloodlines oughtn’t matter. Then his implication struck her. “Are you saying the duchess was born a commoner?”
He nodded wryly. “As common as grass. She’s the only child of a wealthy nabob who made his fortune in India. My late grandfather was angling to wed her to royalty, but he settled for a mere duke instead.”
“So that’s the secret the duchess said your father had swept under the rug! Was it an arranged marriage, then?”
“Yes, she was eighteen and, according to her, a bit starry-eyed.”
Natalie absorbed the news in startled silence as she studied Hadrian’s patrician features. Given his noble bearing and commanding manner, she would never have imagined that he had anything but the bluest of blue blood coursing through his veins.
No wonder the Earl of Godwin had been named his guardian. Hadrian’s father wouldn’t have wanted a mere commoner to raise his heir. Yet it still seemed unnecessarily cruel to have separated mother and son. Even now, many years later, the duchess resented Godwin. That had been clear by her relief at learning her son hadn’t betrothed himself to Godwin’s daughter.
Would Hadrian tell her he still intended to court Lady Ellen? He’d been tight-lipped about his marital plans ever since leaving Oak Knoll.
Natalie pushed away the image of the two of them wrapped in each other’s arms. It was none of her concern. If a smoldering kernel suspiciously like envy burned in her breast, she must never allow Hadrian to guess its existence.
“No witty retort?” he said. “I should think you’d enjoy learning that I’m as much a mongrel as you are.”
A droll smile on his face, he stood watching her, and Natalie found herself smiling back. She liked a man who could mock himself. “Luckily for you, I happen to find mongrels far more interesting than purebreds. And at least you’re not dowdy.”
“Now, I never called you that. It was you who pinned that tag on yourself. Quite unfairly, I might add.”
His appreciative gaze swept downward over the skirt of her best plum silk, then back up again, lingering on her bosom long enough to cause a wild disturbance there, before returning to her face. His eyes caressed her features, and his expression refined into a look of intense desire. She caught her breath as the air suddenly seemed to sizzle. Though they stood a foot apart, her body tingled as if his hands were beneath her gown, stroking her warm flesh.
Oh my. She was not supposed to allow lascivious thoughts into her mind. He was far too dangerously attractive a man. Especially when they were alone in her chamber with the inviting expanse of the bed directly behind him.
Seeking a distraction, she said, “Will you tell me about the other parts?”
“Parts?”
“Of a lady’s armor against society. You said that fine clothing is one. If there are more to be known, you’d best warn me.”
“Those will pose no problem, for you already possess them in abundance. Charm. Grace. Wit.” His expression intensifying, he stepped closer and skimmed the backs of his fingers over her cheek, melting her heart in the process. “And the beauty of confidence, of course. I may be the one in need of armor and sword to fight off all of your admirers.”
At that light touch, the passion simmering between them flared like a flash of lightning. It seared away all rational thought, leaving only an acute awareness of him beating in her blood. His eyes darkened, and she sensed a banked tension in his masculine form, a desperate need that matched her own.
She couldn’t say who moved first, but suddenly they were in each other’s arms and she was reveling in the firmness of his muscled chest against her bosom. He brought his head down, his gaze searching hers, his warm breath caressing her face as if to give her a chance to refuse him. But she could no more resist him than she could cease breathing.
Reaching up, Natalie looped her arms around his neck. “Hadrian, I shouldn’t want you so much … but I do.”
A ravenous growl emanated from deep in his throat in the moment before their mouths met. The heat of the contact sent desire coursing through her veins to every part of her body. A madness descended upon her, a craving for all the sensual pleasure he could give her.
This kiss was even more fervid than the first one they’d shared. In the three days since then, she had existed in a state of acute awareness of him. It was most intense at night, while lying alone in her bed, wishing he was there with her. That had been her most secret fantasy, an indulgence reserved for darkness, when she would toss and turn, beset by an unbearable ache that instinct told her only he could appease.
Now, his kiss made her weak-kneed and delirious. She relished the glide of his hands down her back, following the curve of her waist and hips. As he shaped his palms around her derriere and lifted her to him, she moaned, aware of the shocking urge to writhe against him in an effort to assuage the burning demands of the flesh.
Brushing kisses over her face, he left a trail of heat. “Natalie … I’ve had the very devil of a time keeping my hands off you.”
“Mm. A pity, for you do have the most skillful hands.”
His deep chuckle tickled her skin. “That’s quite the praise, darling, when you’ve had only the merest sampling of pleasure.”
Darling. Was she truly his darling? She wanted to believe so, if only to ensure that she meant more to Hadrian than just a passing fancy. He had a deft charm that must have been honed by abundant experience …
All lucid thought abruptly vanished as a wave of giddiness made her unsteady. Feeling on the brink of swooning, Natalie instinctively locked her arms around his lean waist for support. In the next instant, she realized that the unbalanced sensation was no illusion. She was indeed in motion, tumbling backward, her spine meeting the silken cushion of bedcovers and goose-feather mattress.
As Hadrian settled over her, she absorbed the heavy weight of him even as her feverish senses recorded the novel details of lying beneath a man. His masculine scent of leather and spice. The burning intensity in his hooded eyes. The swift beating of his heart that matched the frantic fluttering of her own. More than anything, she quivered from a keen awareness of his loins nestled into the cradle of her hips. Her experience might be sorely lacking, but she recognized the rigid length pressing against her.
On some hazy level, Natalie knew she ought to be alarmed, that she ought to push him away and banish him from the bedchamber at once. Yet fascination lured her deeper into a realm of
passionate desire. He was just too sinfully tempting to relinquish after only one kiss.
Their mouths joined again for long, leisurely minutes that left her exhilarated and breathless. Rife with infatuation, she let her hands rove over the hardness of muscle in his back and shoulders, then upward to discover the dense silk of his hair. He ended the kiss to nuzzle her throat, his faintly whiskered cheek deliciously abrading her tender skin. She tilted her head back, the better to enjoy his ministrations. At the same time, he stroked her silk-clad bosom to spectacular effect, fanning a fire that spiraled downward and into her core.
It was then that she realized his hand had descended to cup her mound, rubbing in a way that felt darkly delightful. Her hips moved instinctively even as the breath lodged in her throat.
He feathered a kiss across her lips. “We needn’t complete the act in order for you to enjoy my touch. Will you trust me to show you?”
Judgment and reason sent out a feeble warning. Yet his devilish enticement overwhelmed her tattered sanity. With all her heart and soul, she craved to explore the mysteries of her desire for him. And the strange thing was, she did trust him. “If … if you promise not to go too far.”
His chuckle held a strained quality. “I swear it, on my honor as a gentleman.” He bent and kissed her again, quite thoroughly, before adding, “But for this, we’ll want privacy.”
* * *
It took Hadrian all of half a minute to shut the door and stride back to the bed. He stripped off his coat on the way and slung it toward a chair without looking to see where it landed. With single-minded purpose, his gaze remained fixed on the woman lying on the white coverlet.
Natalie. In all his life, he had never seen a more bewitching sight.
She had pushed herself up onto her elbow to watch him. Their episode of kissing and caressing had loosened her upswept hair so that a few dark strands curled down around her shoulders and bosom, and her breasts appeared in danger of overflowing her bodice. Her lips were rosy, her eyes slumberous, the dark lashes half lowered as she waited for him.