The Duchess in His Bed

by Heath Lorraine

  “I haven’t seen you about in a while.” His sister studied him intensely in an effort to ensure all was right with him.

  “The new business is keeping me occupied—more so than I’d expected.”

  “It’s going well, then?”

  “No complaints.” He took a sip of his beer, relishing the flavor. “I’m in need of your finest bottle of wine. One that goes particularly well with strawberries.” The fruit was going to cost him a fortune, because it wasn’t yet in season so he’d have to find some that had been cultivated in a conservatory. He had plans for Selena tonight, having no doubt whatsoever she’d be returning to his arms once darkness descended.

  “My finest is in the cellar at Coventry House.” Her duke’s London residence—now hers as well.

  “What would it cost me to have you part with it?”

  “What do you need it for?”

  “A little seduction.”

  Placing her elbow on the counter, she cradled her chin in her hand. “Tell me about her.”

  “Why should I? You kept your duke a secret.”

  “Because of what I felt for him. It rather frightened me, I think. Have you strong feelings for this woman?”

  “God no.” Although the words mocked him as a lie. What he felt for Selena was beyond description. That it terrified him on one level didn’t mean he was following Gillie’s path and falling in love. He’d spent thirty-two years on this earth without stumbling onto that path. He wasn’t about to take a detour toward it now. “She’s fun is all.”

  “Fun is hardly deserving of my finest wine. An inexpensive vintage would work just as well.”

  “She’s accustomed to luxurious things.”

  Straightening, she scrutinized him. Nearly as tall as her brothers, she intimidated a good many. “Nobility, then. One of the ladies you’ve met through your new club, I’ve no doubt. Don’t let her use you, Aiden.”

  “How’s she going to do that? There’s nothing at all she could do to me that I wouldn’t welcome.”

  “You’re thinking with the lower half of your body. I’m talking about the upper part, your heart.”

  “My heart’s safe. I have no intention of ever giving it into another’s keeping.”

  “Intentions can sometimes go astray. I never intended to fall in love with a duke.”

  “Speaking of your duke, why isn’t he about? He seldom leaves your side these days.” She was swelling with his child, and Thorne hovered around her as though she were the first woman to ever give birth and was in need of constant protection. He was rather surprised Gillie allowed it, because she’d been independent her entire life.

  “He had a funeral to attend. The Duke of Lushing, a man he greatly admired.”

  Aiden’s gut clenched as though preparing for a blow. A duke being buried today. A secretive widow coming to his club. “Had he a wife, this Lushing fellow?”

  Nodding, she grabbed a bit of flannel and began wiping the counter. “I’m given to understand they’d been married for some years.”

  “Shouldn’t you have accompanied your husband?” If she had, then he could have acquired a description of the man’s widow, might know for certain if she was the woman who’d fallen apart in his arms. Although he couldn’t imagine the woman he knew coming to him before her husband was even placed in the ground.

  “I’ve never met the duchess. I suspect she’d not be of a mood to make any new acquaintances. I certainly wouldn’t want some stranger bearing witness to my grieving. Besides, I’m not yet accepted by the nobility so that would add a layer of awkwardness to the whole affair.”

  “Do you know how he died?”

  She stilled, her gaze narrowing as she scrutinized him. “Why would you care?”

  “Half my family is now ensconced in the nobility. My businesses, especially the newer one, cater to them. It just seems I should stay abreast of what’s happening among them, and you’ve become an incredibly wonderful source.”

  Her shrug indicated she wasn’t at all susceptible to his flattery. He had no idea how a duke had won her over because Gillie had never been one to flirt.

  “He fell ill. Thornley was quite taken aback to hear of his passing because the duke was a rather young man, in good health. A couple of days ago his widow brought him to London because he wished to be laid to rest in a cemetery here.”

  Surely this duke was not Selena’s duke. It was merely coincidence that his arrival in London so well matched her appearance at his club. Yet what better way to escape grief than to become lost in living?

  “Have any other dukes passed in the past year or so?”

  His sister studied him as though he was speaking in another language. “I’m certain some have, but until Thorne came into my life, I paid very little attention to the goings-on among the nobility. It wasn’t as though I was moving about in their circles to know any of them or for their names to truly have any meaning for me. Thorne would no doubt know. Shall I ask him?”

  “No, it’s not important.” Whether she was a day, a week, a month, a year, a century a widow, his interest in her wouldn’t diminish. Although it appeared another billiards game was in order, only this time he’d be the one posing the questions.

  “Do you still want the wine?” Gillie asked, breaking into his thoughts.

  “If you don’t mind.” He could always put fine wine to good use.

  “I’ll write a missive to the butler and tell him which vintage to pour into a bottle for you.”

  “I’ll paint you another unicorn for your tavern walls.” They were decorated with his artwork, as were those of the lodgings above where she’d once lived.

  With a joyous grin, she patted his shoulder. “Paint one for the nursery.”

  “I was going to do that anyway. Better yet, maybe I’ll paint the entire wall with unicorns.”

  “I daresay, Aiden, there is a whimsical bent to you.”

  He winked at her. “Keep it between us.”

  With the rag she’d been using to wipe her counter, she teasingly slapped his arm. “Wait there while I go pen a missive for you to take with you to hand over to the butler.”

  While she walked off, he took a long, slow swallow of his beer, already envisioning how he would seduce Selena until she lowered all her defenses and became an open book, confessing all her secrets and all her sins.

  Sitting in the front parlor, Selena found herself surrounded by the well-meaning ladies of the ton who looked at her with unbridled sympathy and sorrow as though she were on the verge of following her husband into the grave. She rather wished she’d insisted on attending the funeral. The somber affair that included morbid mutes in tall black silk hats had to be far jollier than being in the center of all these black-clad women who reminded her of ravens eyeing their prey. What they were awaiting were her tears, but she’d released them all the night before, sheltered within Aiden Trewlove’s strong arms.

  So in addition to her sadness, she was battling against incredible guilt because she’d drawn such comfort from another man’s tenderness. Although she suspected Lushing would forgive her for that slight. After all, he’d never purposefully sought to make her unhappy. He would be appalled by all the mournful looks cast her way at that precise moment. He’d always been one who enjoyed life, looked for the fun to be had, celebrated each day as an opportunity for new adventures.

  Even her sisters, sitting around her, seemed at a loss. Certainly one was to be reflective and portray sadness at a time such as this—and she was devastated Lushing had passed. But it seemed wrong somehow that the silence was deafening. She wanted to ask Constance to play a lively tune on the pianoforte or Florence to belt out a vivacious song to her heart’s content. She wanted joy and happiness. She wanted to laugh. God help her, she wanted to hear Aiden Trewlove’s laughter circling the room just as it had when he’d realized she did indeed know her way around a carom game.

  Then off to her right, she heard a whisper of glee that had her heart expanding as she recalled
how many times Lushing would whisper something untoward in her ear—

  “Do you think Lady Lilith owns a mirror? That gown is a ghastly shade on her.”

  “I daresay Lord Hammersmith will be sneaking into Lady Margaret’s bedchamber later if I’m reading the message of her fan correctly.”

  “I believe Lady Downing is pouring spirits into her punch and it’s not even two of the afternoon yet.”

  So she strained to make out the conversation, to hear something she might share with Lushing when she visited his grave, something that would have brought a smile to his face in life.

  “. . . decadent. Gambling, drinking. I smoked a cigar in the billiards room.”

  Selena closed her eyes. The billiards room. She’d done a good bit worse than smoke a cigar. Although perhaps the girl was talking of another—

  “Mr. Trewlove prowls through the rooms like a great predatory cat, so lithe and smooth, and then suddenly he’s there, standing beside you, whispering something delicious in your ear.”

  “Like what?” Lady Carolyn asked sotto voce.

  Your skin reminds me of silk, only softer.

  “That I should only ever waltz as I’m far too graceful for anything else.” This from Lady Georgiana, the smoker of cigars.

  “You’ve waltzed with him?”

  Oh yes, but not nearly enough.

  “Well, no. He never dances with anyone. I suspect with his upbringing he doesn’t know how.”

  Oh, he knows how.

  “He waltzed with someone the other night,” Lady Josephine piped up. “My word, the way he held her, the way he looked at her, the way he moved with her—it was enough to make my mouth water.”

  “Who was she?” Lady Carolyn had never been afraid to ask questions.

  “I don’t know. She was masked. That’s the thing. If you’re not comfortable being seen there, you can wear a mask. Really, Lady Carolyn, you simply must give it a go.”

  The girls’ voices had increased in volume until Selena was fairly certain she wasn’t the only one eavesdropping on the conversation. The twins had perked up considerably, their attention no doubt snagged. Even as she thought it was not the sort of establishment that she wanted her sisters to visit, she couldn’t help but consider that it would be a nice escape for them. She could limit their exposure to the ballroom. Perhaps she would confide in them and take them with her, although her reasons for going were far more unsavory than theirs would be and she would have to slip away unnoticed without igniting their curiosity. Better to leave them at home.

  “Honestly, girls,” one of the matrons, Lady Marrow, chastised. “This is entirely inappropriate conversation for the occasion.”

  “I thought the place was myth,” Lady Waverly, another matron, said.

  “No, it exists, and it’s absolutely marvelous,” Lady Hortense exclaimed, her voice rife with excitement.

  “It is an establishment owned by someone born in shame. It’s not to be tolerated, and you shouldn’t be associated with him,” Lady Marrow stated sternly.

  Selena caught sight of Lady Elverton sitting perfectly still and stiffly, her face an unreadable mask. Her father was a baron, although whispers abounded that she was not welcomed into his home. It was rumored she’d been the Earl of Elverton’s mistress before his wife had wretchedly drowned in a boating mishap. Nearly thirty years had passed since the tragedy and her marriage to the earl, yet still she was barely accepted or tolerated by the ton, although it didn’t seem to bother her overly much. Selena hadn’t yet been born when the scandal had taken place, so she couldn’t testify to the veracity of the rumors and wasn’t certain whether they had faded or intensified over the years.

  “He once told me I was pretty.” Lady Cecily had the unfortunate distinction of having rather large teeth that her upper lip couldn’t quite cover.

  “He is a scoundrel of the first water,” Lady Marrow insisted. “Of course, he is going to flirt and tell you what you wish to hear. He wants something from you.”

  What could he possibly want from Selena that she wasn’t willing to give him? She’d practically thrown herself at him, and he had yet to catch her fully.

  “But he’s ever so nice,” one of the younger ladies said.

  “So is the devil when he’s seeking to take your soul.” One of Lady Marrow’s brows shot up so high it nearly disappeared in her hair.

  “Despite the rumors regarding the Trewloves’ origins, they don’t seem a bad lot,” Selena said.

  Gasps at her audacity pounded her. Or perhaps it was simply that no one had expected her to escape her grief long enough to speak.

  “You are pretty, Lady Cecily. I suspect he merely wanted to compliment your looks, and nothing more.”

  The poor girl blushed and ducked her head. Yes, Selena could see Aiden Trewlove delivering a kindness in the form of a bit of flattery to a shy lady with hopeful eyes who probably went without much kindness or flattery bestowed upon her. She’d had three Seasons already and would soon be relegated to the shelf.

  “You give him too much credit, Duchess.” It seemed Lady Marrow would not be deterred from her opinion or prone to changing it. “As for the rumors, they are fact. They were born in sin, which makes them immoral.”

  Although it wasn’t the first time she’d heard that argument, she had never truly embraced it. Nor had Lushing. He’d always believed in judging people based on their own merits. However now she had to wonder: If Aiden Trewlove fathered her babe, would the little one be immoral? Would the child be condemned to hell? Would Aiden’s sins pass through him to become the sins of her child? “I’ve never quite understood that reasoning. The sin should rest with the parents, surely. The child is innocent of any wrongdoing.”

  “The loose morals are passed down through the blood. Sinners give birth to sinners. It is the very reason we have a hierarchy in the social order.”

  “I doubt anyone in this room is without sin,” Lady Elverton said quietly, but her eyes still held a challenge. “Which would make the entire aristocracy immoral, would it not? If indeed we follow your logic, Lady Marrow, which I for one do not. I agree with the duchess. Regardless of the circumstances of their birth, babes are pure, without sin, without shame. They are innocence at its most basic. Tabula rasa I believe is how philosophers view it.”

  The elderly matron sniffed. “I disagree. The Bible is quite clear. The sins of the father are visited—”

  “Are the sins of the father,” Lady Elverton stated emphatically, and Selena wondered if she had indeed been the mistress of the earl and if she might have given him children before they were wed. If she had, where were they now?

  Selena could fairly see steam escaping Lady Marrow’s ears as she opened her mouth—

  “Lushing had such a forgiving nature that I think he would agree with Lady Elverton,” Selena said, feeling a need to defend those born on the wrong side of the blanket. “I daresay, should I be blessed with a child, I shall hope he inherits none of my sins.”

  “Your only sin is eating too many strawberries,” Alice said cheerily, which might have received a chuckle or two under different circumstances—if all eyes hadn’t dropped suddenly and swiftly to Selena’s abdomen. While initially they may have been looking for evidence of her gluttony, the speculation mirrored in their eyes indicated their curiosity had abruptly careened into another direction: the possibility of her being with child. Of their own accord her hands spread out over her belly as though she did indeed have something in need of protection.

  “Is it possible?” Lady Josephine whispered, confirming Selena’s interpretation of their intense stares.

  Before she could respond, Florence announced impatiently, “Anything is possible. My dear sister is in mourning, and you’re all being frightfully inconsiderate with your inappropriate conversations.”

  “When you’re out of mourning,” Lady Cecily whispered, leaning toward her, “you really must visit the Elysium. The relaxation room is just the thing. I’ll be more than happy to
accompany you to spare you feeling awkward at the place.”

  “Thank you. I shall keep your offer in mind.” But regretfully, once Aiden Trewlove fulfilled her need for him, she would never again cross the threshold into his establishment.

  She’d found the oppressiveness in the front parlor unbearable, but then the men arrived once Lushing was laid to rest and the somberness became too much. It was an odd thing, but an overwhelming urge overcame her to dart out of the residence, race through the mews, and run as fast as her legs could churn to the Elysium—to Aiden Trewlove. To once again be in his arms, to have his whispered words of reassurance echoing in her ears. To feel safe, secure, and protected. To draw strength from him in order to face all the challenges that awaited her.

  Instead she did the proper thing. When condolences had all been offered and received, when those gathered in the parlor finally wandered into the dining room where refreshments awaited them, she snuck out into the gardens and sat on a wrought-iron bench where roses would bloom in a couple of months. Lushing had so enjoyed his flowers. Envisioning him strolling among the spring blossoms brought her a measure of peace.

  A peace that was disturbed by the harsh sound of boot heels on the stone bricks that comprised the path wending its way through the grounds. Glancing over she was disappointed to see the Earl of Elverton. Kit she would have welcomed. Even her brother, but she was not in the mood to deal with others of the nobility, hoped he would see he was intruding and reverse his course.

  “Quite the crush indoors.” He came to stand before her. He was equal in height to Aiden Trewlove, but his body was not nearly as toned, his indulgence in rich foods evident by the rounding of his stomach. Strange how she found herself comparing him to Aiden, and yet she feared in the future she would compare all men to him as he had a way of intruding on her thoughts at the oddest of times. The earl’s hair was a faded brown speckled with silver, and she rather regretted she wouldn’t see Aiden’s hair turn snowy white. In spite of having walked the earth for nearly six decades, Elverton possessed the energy of a younger man. Although his features sagged a bit and were populated with wrinkles, he was still quite the handsome devil. She could readily understand why it was rumored he’d had a bevy of lovers in his youth. But comeliness did not justify infidelity.