Mending the Duke’s Pride

by Admirand, C. H.

  He called her name a second time before she abruptly replied, “What?”

  He tugged at the covers until she loosened her hold on them, allowing him to reveal the top half of her face.

  She glared at him. “I cannot lie to you, Husband.”

  “A relief, I am quite sure.”

  “I am not fit to be around until I’ve emptied that first pot of tea of a morning.”

  His eyes filled with an emotion she had not thought to see when she was in her present state of ungraciousness. “I shall consider myself forewarned, my darling duchess.”

  Her shock allowed him to uncover the rest of her face and lean down to capture her lips in a devastatingly tender kiss.

  She sighed and he eased back. “Much better. Shall I kiss you until your tea arrives?”

  “Good heavens!” She shifted until she’d scooted off the bed, pulling part of the sheet around her…not covering her legs, but at least from breast to thigh she was covered. “I am not dressed!”

  He stood and walked over to the adjoining room, returning with a dressing gown of the deepest blue. “Allow me,” he said, slipping the silky soft material around her, helping her to fit her arms into the sleeves.

  Wordlessly, he tugged at the sheet until she let go. The desperate desire in his eyes was the only indication he’d seen her before he tucked the garment around her, pulling the belt into place and tying it into a bow.

  “There,” he rasped, “you are now fit to receive Mrs. Wigglesworth and the chamber maids who will deliver the hot water for our bath.”

  “I thought you said I would have a hot bath.”

  “And so you shall,” he was quick to agree. “Did I fail to mention the copper tub in my dressing room is quite large and will comfortably hold the two of us?”

  Her face felt as if she’d leaned too close to Mrs. Hughes’ cooking fire. “Er…no.”

  “Ah, then let me reassure you. I shall be most attentive and bathe each and every bit of you.”

  She swallowed against the lump of emotion logged in her throat. Tears formed and he kissed them away. “My darling,” he whispered, pulling her into his embrace. “Do you know how long you will require before you cease to be embarrassed and completely trust me?”

  She sighed, relaxing against him. “No.”

  He tilted her head up and pressed the briefest of kisses to the middle of her forehead. “I suppose I shall have to be patient.”

  “If you would, please,” she whispered. “I am not trying to be difficult, Jared.”

  He smiled at her. “I can see you are not. Let me ring for a second pot of tea, the first shall be yours to empty.”

  That devastating smile of his warmed her from head to toe.

  “I would love that above all things.”

  “Even your devoted husband?”

  “Mmmm…at least until I’ve drunk every drop of tea,” she told him. “After that, I believe you’ve promised a hot bath.”

  His eyes darkened to midnight as he pulled her closer and devoured, simply devoured, her lips, drawing her heart, her mind, and her soul from her. When at last he drew back, she felt a mere shell of her former self.

  He stared at her for long moments before whispering, “You do not know what you do to me, Persephone, for I vow I cannot put it into words.”

  The mix of the sincerity of his words and the uncertainty of his gaze combined within her, giving her the courage to lift to her toes, wrap her arms around his neck and pour what was left of her into her kiss. The shell of her body was magically refilled, and she was able to share what was in her heart, her mind, and her soul. Replenished as she felt bits and pieces of Jared flowing into her.

  They eased back at the knock on their door announcing Mrs. Wigglesworth’s arrival with the promised hot water and not one, but two tea trays.

  She beamed a good morning and bustled about, setting out the tea all the while supervising the half-dozen servants carrying hot buckets of water to fill the vast copper tub.

  “Will there be anything else, Your Graces?”

  Persephone stifled a giggle. “I am so sorry,” she said. “Not quite used to being Your Graced as of yet.”

  The duke nodded. “It will take a bit of time,” he advised, “but it will come.”

  “Just ring when you’re done with your bath,” the housekeeper told the duke. “I’ll have the water emptied.”

  “Thank you,” he said as she closed the door.

  “Drink up, we don’t want the bath water to grow cold.”

  *

  The duke thought she’d never finish drinking that bloody pot of tea. He was a patient man, had tried to go slowly last night easing his bride into the pleasures of lovemaking. But when she’d sighed and simply melted against him, he’d lost his head and rushed her.

  Not that she complained at the time, he thought with a small smile. But now the woman tried his patience yet again when he wanted nothing more than to immerse them in the hot fragrant bath.

  “I had Mrs. Wigglesworth add dried lilac blossoms to the bath water.”

  Persephone set down her cup, half-finished. “Did you?”

  “I rather thought you preferred lilacs.”

  She smiled, a fulsome, winsome smile as she stood. “I do. Thank you.”

  He eased her to her feet and slipped his arm about her waist. “Shall I help you into the tub?”

  “If you would, but Jared?”

  “Hmmm?”

  “Are you not worried you shall smell of lilacs?”

  He smiled at her as he helped her out of her dressing gown. “Not at all.” He lifted her into the tub and let his dressing gown slide off him, melding with hers in a pile on the floor. A deep burgundy swirled with midnight blue.

  He stepped into the tub and sat, easing her back against him. “Are you comfortable?”

  She sighed. “Nearly.”

  “Nervous?”

  “Most definitely. I’ve never bathed with anyone before.”

  “I should hope not.” He reached for the cloth and lilac-scented soap. “Where shall I start?” he asked, sliding the soapy cloth across her shoulder and down to her wrist, gently washing and soothing his wife.

  “Mmmm…” She shifted a bit, leaning more fully against him. “Feels divine.”

  His rumbling laughter filled the steamy dressing room.

  Three-quarters of an hour later, the water had gone cool but not before his wife had all but melted into the bath water. “Feeling better?”

  “Yes,” she sighed as he dried her off. “I had no idea one could enjoy one’s bath quite so much.”

  Persephone turned to him. “Your turn,” she said, hesitantly, slowly drying him off.

  His wife was a joy to behold, and a joy to initiate into the art of lovemaking. He’d never quite felt what filled his head and heart this morning. She’d vexed him in the extreme yet delighted him to no end.

  The duke had no doubt his wife would lead him on a merry chase.

  He most definitely looked forward to it.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  “Another missive arrived, Your Grace,” Jenkins intoned.

  Jared started to rise from the table where he breakfasted with his wife, but she implored him with a look not to follow their butler to his study to read the missive in private. He sighed deeply and motioned for their butler to hand him the missive.

  “May I read it?” Persephone practically vibrated in her chair, waiting for him to hand the bit of paper to her.

  He refused with the shake of his head. “I must address this at once.”

  His wife stood and walked to where he was seated. “I won’t be kept in the dark again,” she told him.

  They locked gazes, as if they could outstare one another in a contest of wills.

  In the end it was a draw. “It is another threat.”

  “Against whom this time? You or Edward?” Before he could answer, she added, “Isn’t Mr. King on the trail of the person sending these missives to you? Is
he any closer to catching the culprit?”

  He stood and pulled her into his arms. Holding her close, he sighed. “There have been threats from two sources. It takes time to properly investigate.”

  “The Lady H.” Persephone said.

  He nodded. “Lady Hampton.”

  “Her husband was the one who—” she couldn’t give voice to the rest of it, fearing she’d bring up things better left unsaid. It couldn’t be unsaid…why had she said it?

  “Murdered my brother,” the duke rasped.

  Persephone laid her head on his chest and locked her arms around him. “Why is there such evil in the world?”

  He eased her back until he could gaze into her warm brown eyes. “Evil must balance the good. How else would we recognize it?”

  “Hmm…how else?” she echoed.

  “I would protect you with my life.”

  “I hope that won’t be necessary, Jared.”

  He pressed a swift kiss to her forehead. “This missive contains a threat against you, my love.”

  She pushed back and stared at him. “Me?”

  “You are the Duchess of Wyndmere, are you not?”

  Persephone agreed.

  “You will not venture out unless you have two of my personal guard accompanying you.”

  When she didn’t answer quickly enough, he added, “You are my life, Persephone. Please do this for me.”

  When she capitulated, he held her against his heart, promising, “This will be over soon.”

  *

  The next few days passed in a whirlwind of emotional highs and devastating lows as they laid her friend and lady’s maid to rest amidst the worry her friend would be buried at the crossroads…with a stake—she could not finish the thought. Thankfully, her husband had used his title, and all means at his disposal, to ensure that did not happen.

  She stood beside Martha’s mother, despite her mother’s urging her not to attend the burial. Persephone had insisted, needing to lend her support at least in this small way. When the woman’s first heart-wrenching sob echoed through the early morning’s quiet, she was glad she’d used her new station in life to the shock of her mother and no doubt that of her husband of but a few days. Surprisingly, he’d gone along with her request quite willingly.

  Had he felt responsible for what happened? If so, why? Her mind whirled around in a circle until she concentrated on the here and now—and her friend’s mother. “I am so sorry I wasn’t more attentive,” Persephone rasped, tears filling her eyes yet again.

  Martha’s mother patted Persephone’s hand as if she were comforting her own daughter. “She always had a love for life, my Martha,” her mother said. “Ray of sunshine that one, always had a mind of her own. Couldn’t tell her to mind the darkness in others…not your fault, Your Grace.”

  The duke cleared his throat to speak. “We shall uncover who is responsible,” he promised. “You have my word.”

  *

  The latest on dit whirling about the ton delighted and horrified its members. Whoever heard of a duchess attending the burial of a servant? Never heard the like. Not done. Crossing the polite boundaries of servant and noblewoman.

  Thankfully, those of social importance had ignored the delectable on dit of the Duke of Wyndmere’s hasty marriage by Special License to one Lady Persephone in favor of the grittier gossip revolving around the disappearance and mysterious death of his duchess’ maid.

  Through it all, Earl Lippincott and Lady Farnsworth stood by the side of the duke and duchess. They staunchly deflected the slings and arrows of those with nothing better to do with their lives than to feed on the sorrows and misfortunes of others while attending the latest round of entertainments.

  Preparations were underway for the Duke and Duchess of Wyndmere’s first ball, leaving Persephone in her mother’s company while Jared journeyed to Wyndmere Hall to collect his sister.

  She enjoyed the time spent with her mother who complimented Persephone on her metamorphosis from the woman who hid from the world in garish gowns and borrowed spectacles to a duchess who held her head high, confident in her husband and her new role.

  But at times, she wondered if she would be able live up to the expectations being Jared’s duchess would require, though she did not give voice to such thoughts to others.

  When she had asked him, he had smiled and lifted her hand to his lips. “I have no doubt you will enchant everyone with your smiles and winning ways.”

  She solemnly retorted, “You do not know what you are in for. Though I shall try my best not to embarrass you. You have my word.”

  “That is all I require.”

  That conversation had been the day before, the duke having left early that morning to collect his sister, Lady Phoebe, at the family estate in the Lake District. Persephone kept busy with daily visits with her mother and preparations for the ball. There were far more than she had thought possible. In between those visits, she made sure to find out Jared’s sister’s favorite sweets. Mrs. Wigglesworth and Mrs. O’Toole were only too happy to comply.

  Jared had been gone a little over a sennight when the earl had surprised her by staying for supper—it had not been his custom to spend more than an hour or so at a time. A few days later, he’d arrived in time for tea. She was only too happy for his company while she anxiously awaited the arrival of her husband and sister-in-law.

  The knock on the open door to the salon had her turning and smiling, but it was not Jared. Jenkins begged their pardon, advising a Mr. King wished to speak to the earl in the duke’s absence.

  “Of course, Jenkins,” she said with a quick look at her brother-in-law who nodded.

  Edward bowed and followed the butler to the duke’s study.

  King stood by the window, nodding when the earl entered the room. “I promised the duke I would report to you if he had not yet returned from the Lake District.”

  “Which of my brother’s inquiries have you solved?”

  “The matter of Martha Eversham.”

  “Ah,” the earl sighed. “Lady Persephone will be most anxious to have the news.”

  King frowned. “I promised His Grace I would tell you of my findings, but not to share them with his duchess until his return.”

  “I see.”

  “He did not want to worry her unduly, given the circumstances and other inquiries.”

  “Very well. Have you run down the bastard responsible?”

  “Yes. Apparently, the man’s conscience smote him to the point where he confessed and quite handily, I might add. I was able to track him down thanks to the information recently received from the lady’s maid in Lady Ipswitch’s employ.”

  The earl listened intently while King divulged the details. “And he knows he’ll hang?”

  “Yes,” King answered, “but that was before he was shot in the back.”

  “Bloody hell, not by one of your men?”

  King’s eyes narrowed and the earl felt the anger radiating from the Bow Street Runner.

  “The man who accosted and violated Miss Eversham was employed by one Lady Hampton, lately preferring to be known as the Lady H.”

  The earl’s eyes widened. His temper simmered dangerously close to the surface. “The person behind the threatening letter my brother received—the person responsible for our brother’s death.”

  King nodded. “My men subdued the man with the gun.”

  “And?”

  “He is in Viscount Hollingford’s employ.”

  “Is that all?” the earl asked.

  “No. The man matches the description of the second man the maid in Lady Ipswitch’s employ described.”

  “This all leads back to the threats to my brother?”

  King waited a beat before responding. “Do not forget, and his new duchess as well.”

  “Jared must hear of this at once. He’ll need to add to his personal guard as he brings our sister to London.”

  “When do you expect His Grace to return?”

  “This
evening. The weather was a bit soggier than anticipated.” The earl frowned as King headed for the door. “Is there more you can tell me?”

  “Send word when the duke has returned, and I shall come directly. ’Tis best he hears the rest of this from me.”

  The earl walked with the Bow Street Runner to the door before returning to the salon where his sister-in-law no doubt waited for him.

  “Edward,” she sighed. “Mrs. Wigglesworth just freshened up the teapot. Would you like more?”

  “Yes, please.”

  He was silent as she poured, adding cream and a heaping spoonful of sugar to his cup before passing the teacup and saucer to him. He sipped and sighed. “Not quite the same kick as a glass of brandy but in a pinch, it’ll do.”

  She smiled. “Can you share what Mr. King reported?”

  He watched her over the rim of his cup as he emptied it. Setting it on the saucer, he leaned forward and placed it on the table. “I gave my word not to. Jared specifically asked King not to divulge what he discovered if Jared were not home.”

  When Persephone stared at him, Edward sighed. “Dash it all, Persephone! He asked it because he did not want you unduly upset if he were not here with you to soften the news.” Holding her gaze for long moments, he asked, “Would you undo all my brother did in his bid to protect you?”

  It was her turn to sigh deeply. “No. He had the best of intentions, as do you.”

  “There is one more piece to the puzzle King will relate when the duke returns later today.”

  “I see. Thank you, Edward.”

  “Lady Persephone?”

  “Please,” she asked, “can you not dispense with the lady?”

  He smiled. “Persephone?”

  “Yes, Edward?”

  “Does my brother know how fortunate he is to have married a gem such as you?”

  She laughed. “I do not know as I’ve ever been called a gem before, sounds rather odd, and aren’t gemstones quite hard?”

  He shook his head and settled back against the striped settee as she handed him a plate brimming with a combination of treacle tarts—his favorite—and cream scones with clotted cream and raspberry jam.