Lord Love a Duke

by Renee Reynolds

  Chapter Forty-Five

  I'll make my heaven in a lady's lap.

  William Shakespeare, Henry VI Part III, Act 3, Scene 2

  A little more than a mere sennight ago, Juliet could honestly say she never thought she would be betrothed, with her Jonas' head lying in her lap as he slept. She looked down at the Duke's – Jonas' – face in repose, noting that his countenance was so serene and even boyish in slumber. Her mouth quirked in a half smile and she lifted her gaze to an unseen point on the distant horizon as she continued to contemplate their current situation. The Duke – Jonas, she mentally corrected herself again – was determined they would marry and rub along quite well together. There was no doubt she was qualified to be a duchess, if one considered breeding, upbringing, and training, all of which she had in abundance. Yet all she had ever truly aspired to be was loved, and to love someone in return, unreservedly and wholeheartedly, as she had seen modeled by her parents.

  Jonas seemed content to be with her, seeking her out often during the day. She was also now seated on his right at all meals, and she found this small deference pleased her enormously. He often voiced his appreciation of her attributes and sought out her opinion on myriad topics, and she could see the interest and regard he felt for her in his eyes. The few times they were alone, she found his gaze to be especially enigmatic, his looks full of some emotion she could not as yet define. The mere remembrance of those shared looks caused her stomach to clench and her heart to speed up and she wondered at her reactions.

  The ride and picnic Jonas had requested she accompany him on had been postponed by only two days. Juliet speedily felt sufficiently recovered from her fall from her horse, having suffered no injury other than a few bruises and a cut to her head. They had departed together earlier this morning, riding over the estate lands that were as familiar to Juliet as her own home grounds. They spent the better part of two hours looking at the Channel from the cliffs, visiting the ponds and streams, riding over hills and through trees, and just traveling the borders of the extensive property. By the time they were ready to eat, Jonas found a shaded hill that gave them a pretty view of the lands that would soon be hers. After their meal and talking nearly nonstop, Jonas determined he would rest before they returned to the house. So saying, he stretched out, dropped his head in her lap, and soon was asleep.

  Still lost in her daydreams, Juliet absently began running her fingers through the Duke's raven hair, her nails dragging delicately on his scalp. His eyes flew open at her first touch but her gaze was still unfocused on some far off point, her thoughts somewhere removed from their picnic. Not wanting her touch to end, he savored the feel of her hands in his hair, her gentle ministrations both relaxing and sensual. He was looking at her pensive face with a half-lidded gaze when she abruptly lowered her eyes to his face. Knowing she still believed him asleep, he closed his lids fully to maintain the illusion of slumber. Her hands moved from his hair to his brow and it took all his control to mentally school himself to keep his breathing steady and regular.

  Juliet had never touched a man's face before, not even that of her father or brothers, so she gave in to the desire to take her index finger and trace the strong brow of the Duke. Jonas! her mind screamed. She moved her finger down the straight slope of his nose then dropped it into the slight dip above his upper lip. She stopped her exploration briefly, afraid of waking him, but eventually gave in to temptation and resumed her caress, feathering a touch across his lips. She was surprised at their softness and abruptly withdrew her consideration when his mouth twitched. She quietly stared at his face, afraid she had awakened him, but he continued to slumber. She moved her hand to drag her fingers gently along his straight jawline, reveling at the slight stubble and continuing on to his ear. She moved to touch the knot and folds of the cravat at his neck next, her focus immediately drawn to the memory of stitching these cloths together not too many nights past. She briefly wondered how his valet conceived the intricate knot, then laughed lightly at the absurdity of her sentiments. Yes, Juliet, his fashion is much more interesting than the matrimonial preparations you are both now facing, she thought.

  Jonas dared a small peek through his lashes and was pleased that Juliet's previous scowl had been replaced with a more pleasant look of soft contemplation. He wondered what views passed through her mind as her hands investigated. His fingers fairly itched to return the favor but he knew not to push too quickly. He had discarded his coat in deference to the heat so he felt her hand move to trace the cut of his waistcoat next, her fingers moving slowly across the embroidered pattern until her palm came to lie flat and still over his heart. At his involuntary intake of breath he felt her stiffen and his lids flew open to meet her wide-eyed stare. He read the surprise and embarrassment in her eyes at being caught. She yanked her hand away but he quickly moved to intercept it and returned it back to his chest.

  “You may touch me, Juliet,” he murmured.

  She flushed a becoming shade of pink as her gaze darted away. “I'm so-sorry,” she stammered. “You were asleep and I did not mean to awaken you.” He brought his other hand up to cup her face, drawing her eyes back to his.

  “I have been awake since your first touch,” he confessed, and she struggled to slip her hand from his. “No. Don't move away,” he instructed. “I cannot remember anything as pleasant as your gentle contact. I meant no subterfuge by feigning sleep. Had you known me to be awake I feared you would cease your exploration. I did not want it to end.” He tenderly moved his thumb across her cheek as her blush deepened at his admission. He sat up and faced her, his hip pressing scandalously into her leg. He leaned in and brushed a light kiss across her lips. Encouraged when she failed to pull back he moved closer, bracing his arm on the other side of her outstretched legs for support. He kissed her again, more deeply, before stopping to lean his forehead against hers. “I have enjoyed our day immensely, Juliet,” his warm breath fanning across her moistened lips.

  She heard the husky tone of his voice and swallowed nervously, but in anticipation and not fright. She was growing accustomed to his attention, his touch, his kisses. More than accustomed, she was growing to anticipate and crave his ministrations. Her mouth curved slightly as she acknowledged the profound truth that she was not just tolerant but now desirous of everything she was sharing with Jonas.

  “I have enjoyed our day as well,” she replied softly. She moved her hand and placed it over his that rested on their blanket. He turned his until their hands rested palm to palm and he intertwined his fingers with hers.

  “Should I ask you again, sweetest Juliet? Should I speak of marriage yet?” Jonas raised his head to look into her eyes as he felt her fingers tighten with his. Her gaze was wide and her once-flushed cheeks were decidedly paler. “No, I think that is a subject for another picnic. Let us continue to enjoy our time thus until we must needs return to the house.”

  He dropped his head once again and claimed her lips in a searing kiss, robbing Juliet of what little breath she had stored after his mention of matrimony. He misunderstood her reaction; she no longer felt dread but hope at the thought of his proposal. He broke their contact but before she could draw air he began to place kisses along her jaw, his mouth hot on her sensitized skin. She shivered again, wanting something but she knew not what. Her mouth was parted on a sigh and he swooped in to take advantage, slowly teasing his tongue between her lips, investigating that warm recess thoroughly. He nearly jerked bodily when he felt the tentative brush of her tongue against his at the same moment he felt her unlace her fingers from his so that her arms could climb around his neck. She threaded her fingers through his hair, making a quiet mewl of satisfaction as she explored. His mind cheered in victory as his heart hammered in his chest. Not wanting to rush too far or too fast, he slowed their kiss, withdrawing to brush light pecks across her lips again.

  “I think it is time to repack our saddlebag and make for the house,” he whispered against her lips before kissing her warmly again. Juliet's b
row furrowed in confusion and he moved to prevent her question by kissing her deeply once more. “And no, not because I do not enjoy kissing you, sweetheart, but because I enjoy it highly too much,” he explained before breaking their contact and moving to gather up their meal items.

  Juliet blinked several times as she processed what had just happened – the happening in which she had fully participated. She touched her lips, finding them slightly swollen and tingling from their contact. She smiled to herself before moving to help fold the blanket. I enjoy it highly too much as well, she thought.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Is this the generation of love? Hot blood, hot thoughts and hot deeds? Why, they are vipers. Is love a generation of vipers?

  William Shakespeare, Troilus and Cressida, Act 3, Scene 1

  Lady Ashford sat conspiratorially close to Miranda the next morning at breakfast. Heads close together and eyes pensive, they would have made a suspicious sight to Jonas and Juliet had the couple taken any notice. As it was, Juliet deeply concentrated on slathering her toast with jam while the Duke pretended to read his paper, though in actuality he studied the profile of his betrothed.

  “We shall shop today, I think,” declared Aunt Catherine. “Juliet's constitution may not tolerate the walking needed for berry picking as of yet, but she cannot complain of a carriage ride to Pevensey. High Street is quite lovely and should hold the company's attention as well as occupy the mothers on their trousseau hunt. How shall we assign the passengers to the equipages?”

  Miranda mentally grouped the house guests into traveling groups. Miss Shaw and Lady Phillipa would pair nicely with the Earl of Dartmouth and Viscount Torrington. Lady Gertrude and Lady Temperance would partner the Earl of Bristol, Juliet's brother, Mr. Shaw, and Mr. Burke, now subdued, compliant, and much more tolerable after being abandoned by the flight of his friend, Viscount Melville. This grouping would also allow Juliet's brother to ascertain whether Mr. Burke knew more than he had acknowledged about Melville's disappearance. Miranda resolved to accompany Juliet's and Jonas' mothers, including Lady Margaret with them. None of the other chaperones nor Miss Elinor Gates had shown an interest when this trip was mentioned previously, so this left the remaining guests, Hertford, Aylesford, and Stafford – all members of the LOO – in their own carriage. Miranda made her pairings known to the Countess.

  “Perfect, my dear. Jonas and Juliet may take their own carriage, with me as their chaperone. Of course I will cry off or become confused or some other such nonsense and slip into the carriage with the lords. That will be a treat for me as well as securing a private passage for our new couple.” Lady Ashford grabbed Miranda's hand that was resting on the table, upsetting a plate and fork and sloshing her tea. “This is too perfect!” she hooted before realizing she had spoken much louder than she had meant. As she had everyone's attention, she proceeded to make the announcement for the plans for the day.

  “If this seems satisfactory to everyone, I suggest we meet in one hour to depart,” the Countess declared. She espied the grimaces on the face of the remaining LOO but a stern glare and arched eyebrow brought them meekly to task. Rising from her chair, the Countess swept out of the room before an opinion or complaint could be uttered in her presence.

  At the appointed time the front drive was a noisy quagmire of carriages, horses, footmen, coachmen, and house guests. Miranda waded into the scene, directing the groups of men and women into their respective coaches as if commanding troops in battle. As each carriage loaded it was dispatched to Town, leaving the last two for the LOO and Juliet and Jonas. Miranda climbed in behind her mother before turning in her seat to watch Lady Ashford's command performance.

  Juliet arranged her skirts, sitting gracefully on the forward-facing seat, Jonas bounding in behind her, taking the opposite seat with a wide grin, dimples blazing. Juliet felt her own smile grow in response when a commotion began in the drive.

  “Slide over and make room, Charles, or you will ride with the coachman,” warned his aunt, Lady Ashford.

  “But you are to ride with Jonas and Juliet,” he sputtered. “We are already four deep in here.”

  “As you say, Charles.” Lady Ashford leaned closer to the window. “You did not ride where assigned so you shall suffer the consequences now. Lord Stafford, please assist my nephew in his removal from the carriage. He has expressed a preference to ride up top.” Juliet stuck her head out the door of her carriage in time to see her brother verily fly out the door of his, stumbling several times before righting his balance and preventing an embarrassing fall. Rather than alighting the coachman's seat, Bristol glared once before stomping angrily back into the manor, ignoring the calls of his friends.

  Jonas, realizing this was an opportunity not to be wasted, hastily pulled Juliet back into the carriage and had the attending footman lift the steps and shut the door. He rapped on the roof to indicate his readiness to depart as Juliet fell ungraciously into her seat.

  “Whatever are you about? We cannot leave without my aunt,” she sputtered.

  “We are also betrothed. There is a certain leeway that is allowable in our chaperonage.”

  “Funny, that. We are actually under closer scrutiny now that we are allied. I cannot believe my mother is not forcing her presence on us, let alone my brother.”

  Jonas chuckled at her consternation. “Your mother is occupied with mine, likely considering how much of the High Street must needs be purchased before the wedding. And you saw Bristol removed from his carriage with barely a by-your-leave. He stalked inside to sulk. I presume he no longer wishes to shop.”

  “Charles wishing to shop?” she laughed outright. “He would rather take a punch to the face. There is no great mystery as to why he ran for the house. What remains a puzzle is why my aunt is not accompanying us.”

  “Your aunt was the agent of his removal and is now riding in the carriage with Stafford, Hertford, and Aylesford.” Jonas laughed again as another thought occurred to him. “I think I begin to see from whence your talent for scheming derived.”

  “I am afraid I fail to follow.”

  “Your aunt, my dear, was to be our chaperone. She wasted no time ensuring our carriage was last to load, and that she was unavailable to bear our company by securing a seat with others. Conveniently, we are now alone. No doubt she wished me sufficiently free to press my suit.”

  Juliet processed the Duke's statement briefly before understanding brightened her countenance and her mouth formed an “o” of comprehension. Her eyes narrowed with a sudden fire. “And what would be the point of our current arrangement?”

  “Only this,” Jonas murmured before abruptly switching sides of the carriage to share her seat. Taking advantage of her surprise, he quickly pulled Juliet onto his lap and stifled her gasp of astonishment with his lips. His kiss was hot and heavy and she briefly thought of the propriety of pushing him away before giving herself over to what was fast becoming her addiction – kissing Jonas. He clasped the nape of her neck with one hand while the other held fast to her hip, burning an imprint through her gown.

  “You have the softest lips. I could do this all day,” he whispered, his warm breath fanning across her mouth before his lips settled once again in a blistering kiss. Juliet felt like she was drowning in a sea of sensations – the wonderful pressure and movement of his mouth – when she felt his thumb pull lightly on her chin. Her lips parted and he swept his tongue inside, stealing her very soul as she breathed in heavily.

  Juliet found herself realizing why mothers took such care to protect their daughters from the company of men before marriage. It was terribly easy to want to kiss the man you love every time the opportunity presented itself. She abruptly tore her mouth from his. The man you love! she thought dazedly. Her gaze searched his face as her memories chased themselves in her mind. He wants to marry me. He wants to make me fall in love with him. He supports me with our families. He chose me.

  Jonas watched the myriad emotions flow across Juliet's lovely face, from su
rprise to wonderment to something he could not quite identify. His gaze dropped to her kiss-swollen mouth and he groaned as her teeth worried her bottom lip. He could wait no longer to confess his feelings.

  “Juliet, I--“

  “Jonas, I--“

  “What the blazes do you two think you're doing?” roared Bristol, from the window of the carriage. “Get the hell off his lap, Juliet!”