The Perfect Duke (Valiant Love) (A Regency Romance Book)

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The Perfect Duke (Valiant Love) (A Regency Romance Book) Page 17

by Deborah Wilson


  A thrill with through her even as she also felt some foreboding.

  By now, people were scurrying out of his path. He took them to the hall that led away from the music and food, away from the press of bodies.

  She took a breath when they were finally free.

  “Where are we going?” she asked.

  “I’m taking you somewhere to talk.” He tried the door on one room and then another. Finding it unlocked, he peeked in. Then he looked around the hall, grabbed a lamp from a nearby table, and finally pushed Everly inside before slipping in himself.

  She looked around and found them to be a bedchamber, though it didn’t seem to be in use. There was nothing personal on the vanity or tables. No trunk or wardrobe in the room. The distinct click of a lock had her spinning around to face him again.

  When she took in his face, she stilled. Asher did not seem like a man who only wished to have a chat. There was violence in his gaze, visible even in the quiet light from the single lamp.

  She took a step back.

  His eyes flashed at the reaction and then he prowled forward.

  She scurried back. “Don’t you dare.”

  “I believe we’ve been through his before.” He caught her in his arms right before her back hit the wall. His hands stroked down her hips, thighs, and then back up. His breathing was hard.

  Everly was quaking.

  Her hands went up to his shoulders, and she told her arms to push him away.

  Commanded them.

  They didn’t listen.

  His hands settled at her lower back.

  His voice was low. “Do you truly think I prefer you as anyone but yourself?” He leaned forward and touched his forehead to hers and suddenly his hands and voice became gentle. “I warned about the effect you have on me.”

  She shivered, recalling his words.

  You’ve no idea what you do me.

  “Then they this challenge?” she asked.

  “I thought it would be the one thing you’d not accept.” He opened his eyes. “I didn’t think you’d counter.”

  “I wouldn’t back down from such a challenge.”

  He cupped her cheek and leaned away. There was a new expression in his face, one she couldn’t read, yet one she knew she didn’t like. “Yes,” he whispered. “I suppose I should have known you’d...”

  Then suddenly, he let her go and took a step back. He ran a hand down his face as he looked her over. “My Achilles Heel.”

  No. She didn’t wish to be his weakness. She didn’t want there to be any weakness in him, not if she was the cause of it.

  She took a step forward. “You’re not weak.”

  “No?” He arched a brow. “Even when you insult my first wife, I still want you. Tell me if that is not weakness?”

  He wanted her? She supposed the kisses and caresses would have been confirmation, yet she could always sense him pulling away from her. Just as he was right now. “I didn’t insult your wife.”

  His expression steeled again. “You did. You believed her beneath you because she had no wish to understand my business.”

  “No, it wasn’t her I thought less of in that moment.”

  “Then who?” His expression changed and then his gaze narrowed. “Surely, you didn’t think…”

  “There was something wrong with me?” She shook her head and turned away.

  The bedchamber was a rosy color with blush hues in the bedding, walls, and curtains, accented with gilt finishings.

  It was a room meant to calm the mind, but as she thought about her encounter with Lord Stoutner, Everly found herself disturbed in profound ways. “I hadn’t known Stoutner’s involvement in my upbringing.”

  “The only reason I didn’t strike him or call him out was because I needed him to tell Lord Fallen to withdraw his claims.”

  She looked at him and again wondered how Asher managed to contain all his rage. His eyes were wild. His hands fisted at his sides. His body seemed to pulse with it. Again, it was a side of the duke she hadn’t known existed until she’d grown to know him better. She wondered how much of it was solely on her behalf and how much simply remnants from the past she’d yet to uncover.

  “And once Fallen has withdrawn his charges?” Everly asked.

  “I’ll make him regret hurting you.”

  She could see that he meant his every word. “Asher, you can’t.”

  “I can, and I will. He’ll not get away with hurting you.” He closed his eyes and his voice was strained. “He caused you anger for years.” His body vibrated with wrath and Everly waited for the room to combust around them at its high intensity.

  The thin hairs on her arms and the back of her neck rose.

  She crossed to him again and stroked her hands down his jaw. It was like trying to hold the strength of a mountain. She was awed and frightened. “Asher, I don’t need revenge. I just need you.” She wasn’t even sure what her words meant, but they’d risen from somewhere within herself.

  Rage bled like cool water from his eyes. His hands came to rest on hers. He turned his head and kissed her naked palm. She’d removed her gloves when she’d went to drink punch and had forgotten to put them back on.

  The kiss shot though that hand and then he turned and did the same to the other. It was electric. She felt connected to him in a new way somehow.

  After a moment of silence, he said, “There is nothing wrong with you, Everly.”

  She’d been ready to agree, having had discovered it herself, but then he spoke again.

  His eyes grasped hers with their conviction. “You are without equal and utterly flawless.”

  She felt her heart bloom, as though it were a flower reaching for the sun. Its petals released one by one until she was swollen with happiness.

  She didn’t know what to say but felt his declaration deserved some at least. So, she said the first thing that came to mind. “I have flaws.”

  “Not any that could make me turn away from you.” His arms went around her. “None that would make me stop fighting for your happiness.”

  Another thrill went through her. She was happy. Uncommonly so. She wasn’t certain she’d ever been more pleased in her life.

  A thought came to her suddenly, a question that she already had the answer to.

  This was the reason women gave their hearts away. This feeling of oneness and… dare she think love?

  Her heart pounded within her chest. Fear forced her mind to take back the word.

  His hold tightened and then he bent his head and ran his lips against hers.

  Fear and doubt were swept from her mind to make way for desire.

  “You’re thinking,” he murmured against her mouth. “Of what, I’m not sure, but I don’t think I like it.”

  She smiled and then laughed, her lips dancing against his. “It’s gone now.”

  He bent her head away and played with the curls that ran down the side her of her face. His expression showed him to be deep in thought. “I…” He took a deep breath. “I didn’t love Mary, but I was fond of her. Had we been given more time, I believe I would have.” His gaze was focused on her hair, anywhere but her eyes.

  It mattered not where he looked to her. She was only glad he’d decided to share with her. “How did she die?” she dared to ask, praying he’d not turn away.

  He didn’t. “She caught her death in the rain. Or rather, she was already ill. I don’t think the weather helped much.”

  The rain.

  No wonder he hadn’t liked the idea of her and Valiant leaving that day. “I’m sorry.”

  He still didn’t look at her. “I could have prevented it. I should have stopped her from going out, but she’d been anxious. She said she and her sister had often been caught in the downpour at their estate.” He shook his head. “I was a fool. Plymouth is a much warmer place than where Ayers’ Castle sits up north.”

  “No.” She locked her arms around his shoulders. “You sounded like a very good husband. She was fortunate to h
ave you.” Everly wouldn’t have thought Asher a man to allow his wife to do as she pleased. For years, she’d looked at him and had seen a tyrant, but that was not him at all.

  The same man who’d allowed Lady Mary to go out in the rain had also helped Everly to climb a tree he’d thought dangerous.

  She didn’t know how she felt about knowing that. Asher had long ago stopped being the dictator she’d always believed him to be in her mind. But now he was something else. A giver in the purest sense of the word. He wanted Lady Mary to be happy.

  She thought about the rest of their argument about her leaving. She recalled that in the end, he’d relented. Had it been his way of saying he didn’t care if she caught her death or not?

  The words had seemed as hard then as they did now.

  And then she remembered what he’d said in the library after she’d claimed to hate him.

  Perhaps, it is for the best.

  He was trying to push her away. She knew it to be true even as his hold seemed relentless.

  She put her own worries out of her mind and focused on him. “April must be a terrible time for you.”

  “It is far from pleasant.” He cupped her cheek. “Though, you’ll have to forgive me when I say that this has been one of the happiest I’ve had in years.”

  She smiled, understanding what he meant. While she hated the circumstances that brought them together, now that they were gone. Everly knew she’d go through it all over again if it meant getting to know Asher once more.

  Everly was glad she’d given him a happy spring.

  No man had ever said the things he did. No one had ever spoken to her as he did. There was authority in him, yes. It poured from his flesh just as easily as his rage. Yet, he didn’t try to control her. He listened and understood.

  “You said you didn’t wish to marry again,” Everly said. “Is it because of how you lost Lady Mary?”

  “Yes and no.”

  ∫ ∫ ∫

  3 4

  Asher chose to not explain his response, because he knew Everly was not ready to hear the answer.

  That answer being that she was his and there would never be another. After Mary’s death, he’d withdrawn from society for far longer than what was necessary for the laws that governed his class.

  It was his father who’d insisted upon it. Even though he’d not been a duke yet, there had been duties to see to and one could never be considered a gentleman unless one partook of social gatherings.

  Then he’d seen Everly and suddenly, he’d had new reasons to avoid the festivities of the Season.

  In a blink, she’d transformed from a girl to a woman and Asher could not help but think she belonged to him.

  It was as ridiculous a notion as it had been years ago. Even though Everly had allowed him the pleasure of her touch, his mind would not allow his heart to confuse those gifts as an agreement to a match.

  Even as he held her, he didn’t allow himself to grow used to it. Yes, there was a part of him that always stake his claim on her, but like the wind, she could not be caught, only felt on passing.

  She narrowed his eyes at his answer and then asked, “If Mary is part of the reason you choose to remain alone and is John the other?”

  John.

  Immediately, his mind was consumed with the image of how Asher had last seen him. Even all these years later, he could remember the scene as though it were right before him. The blood soaked the carpet and parts of John’s body were visible in a way that no human should ever see.

  “Asher?” Everly called sweetly, as though his name were meant to be upon her lips. “We don’t have to talk about it.”

  He bent and buried his head in her neck and thought it better they talk than anything else. They were, after all, in a bedchamber and if he wasn’t speaking with her, he’d be tempted to do something else with Everly.

  Also, holding her made the words easier. He no longer felt alone. “John’s death was the worst thing a man could see, though I’m sure Hero’s time at war could compare.”

  She ran her hands through his hair, warming his blood. “You compare his death to war? What happened?”

  Asher leaned away. “Again, I failed someone who I loved very much.” He swallowed. “The details are not for you to hear. They would shock you, but there was blood and… other things involved.”

  “Do you not say because I am a lady?” Her golden gaze was watchful.

  “Everly, every day I wish I’d not seen it myself. It plagues my mind.” He let her go and touched his temples just as the memory began to flair. “It would be unfair to burden you.”

  * * *

  Everly pushed her fingers back into his hair and pressed her lips together to keep from shouting the desire to share his burdens. Who was she to ask for such a thing? She was not his wife and clearly, he had no intentions of making it so.

  It moved her to know that he’d cared for his wife and still did. Yet another side of Asher she’d not known. He claimed to not have loved her, but Everly wondered if that was so.

  Either way, Lady Mary had clearly been a blessed woman to have him.

  So many found themselves in the most unfortunate of marriages, her parents being an example of that.

  Everly had been told that once upon a time, her mother had been a beautiful lady and though Everly had inherited her red locks from her father’s side, she was often told she looked like her mother, but then she’d heard the same about her father when she’d stood near him. She’d been the perfect combination of them both, at least physically.

  She was nothing like either of them emotionally or mentally. To her father’s great ire, she’d never broken under him as her mother had, and Everly knew that had she been the unfortunate Lady Ellervear, she’d have taken her daughter and run away. She’d not have died under her husband’s rule and she never would have allowed him to treat their child in the manner that Everly was treated.

  Everly hadn’t thought Lady Mary weak, but she did admit that she often thought her own mother weak. She often blamed her mother for her years of pain. If only she’d stood up to Lord Ellervear as Everly had over and over again.

  It was why she’d always detested women who’d given up the freedoms that they did have.

  But learning about Lady Mary made Everly realize that not every woman lived in the same circumstances as her mother had. Some husbands and fathers truly cared for the women under their roof and would clearly do anything to make them happy.

  And so, she couldn’t fairly judge any woman she knew.

  Everly couldn’t imagine how freeing that must be, to have someone care for her.

  Someone like Asher.

  What would it be like to surrender to him?

  She realized just how much she trusted him, which was a large feat considering she trusted few men at all.

  Asher opened his eyes. His expression was nearly lethargic. He smiled. “I like it when you do this.”

  She threaded her fingers some more even as her heart fluttered. “I like doing it.” She actually loved doing it, but she feared using such a word in his presence.

  His eyes heated, and he looked down. “Come.” He suddenly pulled away. “We should return to the party before anyone knows we are gone.” He held out his hand.

  Everly ignored his hand. “And what if they notice? I wish to stay.” Her eyes moved to the bed and then back to him.

  He kept his gaze on her. His voice was neutral, yet she’d noticed his body stiffen, becoming immobile. “I don’t understand.”

  “I believe you do.” She filled in the step he’d taken and placed her hands on his chest. Her heart felt as though it were in a punching frenzy. Was he going to make her say it?

  He settled a hand underneath her chin and lifted her eyes until they met his. Then he gave her the answer to her thoughts. “What is it that you want?” His eyes were like gazing into endless serenity. “I’ll not be mistaken.”

  “I want… you,” she whispered. Then she smiled, seeing
that it hadn’t been that hard to ask for what she wanted. In fact, Everly had never had any trouble getting what she wanted out of life, not since her father’s death. “I want you.”

  He cupped her neck, his eyes darkened. “Isn’t it obvious? You already have me.”

  His kiss was sweet. His tongue entered her mouth and shot a blast of desire through her limbs.

  She pressed closer, wanting more. A small moan slipped past her lips.

  He groaned and pulled away. “We should return to the party.”

  “Take me to the bed,” she whispered.

  He froze, and his eyes widened, cutting through her passion-blurred vision. He didn’t speak.

  “What?” she asked.

  His hands had been a gentle pressure on her arms, but now they were like a vise. He searched her eyes and opened his mouth a few times to speak but said nothing. It was as though he were sorting his words. Then he growled and asked, “Have you done this before?”

  She was confused by his anger. “Done what?”

  His face moved closer. “Lured men into bed with you.”

  She gasped, and her cheeks flushed. “No.” Trembling, she asked, “If I’d said yes would you have been upset?”

  “Yes,” he said without hesitation.

  Now she was upset. “Because I am a woman? And we shouldn’t have desire?”

  His eyes were nearly menacing. “No, because you are mine.”

  She stilled and strangely felt her desire rekindled, which she thought odd. Shouldn’t she hate his claim? She should be telling him that it wasn’t true, that she belonged to no one but herself. She opened her mouth to tell him as much.

  He beat her to it. “You’re mine.” His arms got impossibly tighter, but they didn’t hurt. His eyes roamed her brazenly, and she scalded everywhere they touched. Then they returned to her face, pinning her where she stood. “You are mine. Do you understand?”

  Her body did. Tingles ran up her spine and her vision blurred again. “I…”

  He took her mouth again, ferociously. He lapped at her lips and tongue. He bit her gently. His hands moved, one fisted her dress while the other gripped her hair. He bent her to the side, gently. His mouth then trailed down the side of her face and latched onto her exposed throat. “Sweet woman,” he said between breaths and action. He swirled and sucked at her skin. “So sweet. No one else touches you. You are mine.”

 

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