Winning the Duke

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Winning the Duke Page 16

by Jenn Langston


  The slow pace irritated him, but he couldn’t push his horse any faster and search for Grace in the rain. Was he too late? Had she suffered the same fate as Tabitha? He’d failed as a husband in every manner. The rain pelting on him was nothing compared to the misery lashing at him on the inside.

  If only he’d gone to apologize last night. If only he’d consummated their marriage on their wedding night. If only he’d not agreed to visit Stonemede for the holidays. His thoughts tore him up.

  He should go back. Stupidity sent him out here. Likely Grace was found in the house hiding from him. But, what if his instinct was right? He pressed on, not being able to bear the thought of her in the rain, cold and alone.

  As he moved past, something red caught his eye. He reigned in his horse as fear took his breath away. Could Grace be lying dead on the ground? He jumped from his horse and ran to the red cloth, yanking it away

  “Grace?”

  “G-Go away,” her beautiful voice demanded as she blinked from the rain, since he’d removed her protection from it.

  Relief flooded him as he sank to his knees in front of her. “What you doing out here? Come, let’s get you home.”

  “N-No. I s-said go away.” She sat up and scooted away from his grasp.

  “I’m sorry, Grace. Sorry for more than you know. Now can we please get out of the rain?”

  “Fine. But as s-soon as I can, I-I’m leaving for London.”

  “We’ll talk about that later.” He pulled her to her feet, but she fell back to the ground with a cry.

  “My ankle. I’ve done s-something to it.” Her voice wavered.

  After swinging her into his arms, Braiden went to grab the horse’s bridle. He couldn’t mount while holding her, and she couldn’t do it herself. In addition, if her ankle was broken, the movement of the horse wouldn’t be pleasant. Judging by her occasional sharp intake of breath and whimpering, he imagined she experienced more than a sprain.

  Glancing around, he tried to get his bearings. He knew his hunting cabin was nearby. He just hoped they were as close as he suspected.

  Finding the turnoff, he moved into the trees.

  “Where are we going?” The pain in her voice nearly undid him.

  “We need to get out of the weather.”

  She turned her face into him, hiding from the rain. Her absolute trust made him soar. Moving faster, he hoped to get there soon. Once he had her dry and settled, he’d return to Donetic for supplies and the doctor.

  The sight of the log cabin brought him immense relief. Thankfully he made sure his staff kept up with the care of the cabin, so he knew the accommodations would be more than satisfactory.

  Once inside, he set Grace in a chair. He needed to put linens on the bed, remove Grace’s wet clothes, and build a fire.

  Heading back outside, he led the horse to the stable and collected some dry wood. Returning to the cabin, he dropped it into the hearth and then faced Grace.

  “You need to change, but the only dry clothes I have are mine. They won’t fit or be proper, but it will have to do.”

  She nodded, then unfastened her cloak.

  Moving to the side, he gently lifted her to pull her skirts out from under her. The process of disrobing her wasn’t easy, considering she couldn’t stand, but they managed until she only remained in her shift. He stopped. The activity had been torturous enough without having to see the expanse of milky white skin he knew lay underneath those layers.

  “I . . .” He swallowed. “I think you can manage from here.”

  Turning away, he grabbed a towel and handed it to her without looking back. Then he handed her the shirt in the same manner. Knowing trousers would be too trying to put on, he decided the shirt would have to suffice.

  He set about building the fire without looking at her. Grace’s moans and sharp breaths were the only sounds coming from that side of the room. Anxiousness gripped him. He needed to get to the doctor. Moving as fast as he could, he built up the blaze, then dragged the mattress next to the fire before laying the sheets upon it.

  After completing his chores, he finally turned to Grace. His mouth dried. Long, glorious, bare legs that went on forever greeted him. The baggy shirt hid her curves, but the affect seemed more erotic in a way. Complete with loose hair dripping over her shoulders, she presented an irresistible sight. He was paralyzed.

  She looked down at the ground. “I know. I look ridiculous.”

  “No. You are perfect.” His voice emerged gravelly, and he cleared it, not wanting her to know what he was thinking. Especially considering how their last conversation went.

  She didn’t look at him, but red touched her cheeks. “Are you going to change now? I wouldn’t want you to catch a cold.”

  “No. I must return to Donetic to fetch the doctor.”

  Taking the towel off the floor, he put it over his wet clothes, then gingerly picked her up. He steeled himself against the feeling of her bare legs and mostly naked body. Once she was tucked inside the bed, he turned to the door. The cold rain would do well for him.

  “Wait. I thought you said we were going to talk.”

  “Talking is for later. Rest now. I’ll be back soon.”

  Before she could press him for anything more, he left the cabin. He hoped her ankle wasn’t broken. If so, he couldn’t chance moving her, and he knew he wouldn’t survive living alone in the cabin with her for long.

  Chapter 13

  Grace was lying down in the forest. Suddenly darkness began to flow toward her as shadows formed in the absence of the sun. When the darkness touched her foot, pain shot up her leg and moved through her body. She screamed, but she couldn’t move. Something held her down.

  “It’s all right,” Braiden said, running a hand over her cheek. “It’s over.”

  Opening her eyes, she drew in breaths, trying to contain the throbbing of her ankle. A little man with a large mustache stood beside the bed looking at her. When he reached down and touched her ankle, she pulled away from him, but agony ripped through her, eliciting another scream.

  “We need to give her some laudanum,” Braiden ordered in a pain-ridden voice.

  The man rummaged around in his bag before locating a vile. “I need some water.”

  Braiden jumped up and grabbed a glass of water off the table and handed it to the man. Once the mixture was prepared, he held it out to her.

  She pinched her lips closed as she eyed the offering.

  “Grace, don’t worry. This is Dr. Pinkert. He has come to help. Your ankle isn’t sprained, it’s broken.”

  “Yes, Your Grace, once I bandage you up, your ankle will take some time to heal properly.”

  She nodded, then forced the bitter liquid down. This time when he touched her ankle, she forced herself not to move. He put a piece of wood on both sides of her foot, then wrapped a bandage around her clear up her calf. The process only mildly hurt. Nothing compared to the searing pain from before.

  Glancing over at Braiden, she noticed he wore dry clothes, but his hair still appeared moist from the rain. She couldn’t have been asleep for too long. Sleep beckoned her still, considering she hadn’t received much the previous night.

  “That should be it,” the doctor announced as he collected his belongings. “I will check on her in a day or two. The bone should be fully healed in about two months, so until then, she needs to remain off it.”

  “Two months,” she gasped. How was she to sit immobile for that long?

  Braiden clasped her hand. “Don’t worry. You shall want for nothing. I will buy you one of those Bath wheelchairs.”

  He brought her hand up to his mouth, and then studied her darkened fingers with a wrinkle in his brow. Embarrassed, she pressed the stain further away from him, drawing his attention back to her face.

 
As Rebecca had suggested months ago, Grace had taken up writing. The furious musings that came out on paper were nothing more than frustrated rants, but they weren’t meant to be shared. Grace hoped Braiden never found the bound journal in the bottom of her trunk. Although true, she knew her words would upset him.

  “That would be acceptable,” the doctor approved, pulling her from her thoughts. “However, I don’t recommend moving her from here for at least a week.”

  After clearing his throat, Braiden faced the doctor. “Then I shall have the chair waiting for her at the manor house.”

  “Very good. Take care, Your Grace.” He bowed deeply, then let himself out.

  “Can I get you anything?” Braiden asked as he moved a stray strand of her hair behind her ear.

  At the chance, she tucked her hands under the sheets. “Another doctor. I can’t wait around here for two months.”

  “Why not?” He stood and crossed the room. His voice sounded more like the Braiden she knew.

  “By then London will be barren. I need to return before everyone leaves for the holidays.”

  “The Season is over. Most of the families who return to their estates every year are already gone. Why? What do you care for them?”

  “I’m getting a child, Braiden. You can’t stop me.”

  His eyes bulged as his chest rose and fell rapidly. “If you think I will sit by and let a second wife jump into another man’s bed, you are dead wrong.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Will you stop thinking of me like her? I intend to get our marriage annulled, then I’ll remarry and have a child.”

  He sat on a chair and put his elbows on his knees, watching her closely. “That’s all I mean to you?”

  Shaking her head, she attempted to hide her tears. How could she tell him she loved him too much to live with him anymore? The current state of their relationship was killing her, just as swiftly as it was him. She couldn’t bear his suffering any longer.

  Her lids became heavy, and she couldn’t concentrate on the conversation much longer. “There is so much more than that. I’m basing my decision on what’s best for both of us.”

  His stoic façade melted away as he went to her side and fell to his knees by the bed. “Don’t do this, Grace. Don’t leave me. I wouldn’t survive it.” His voice broke. “I’m so sorry. I know you are nothing like Tabitha. Forget all those things I said. I’ll give you a child as soon as you are healed.” As she watched, shock tearing through her body, he pulled her hand from under the sheets, clutched onto it, and rested his head on the mattress. “I’m begging. Please, give me another chance.”

  She took a deep breath. “Do you truly intend to make this a real marriage?”

  “Anything you want is yours. Name it, and I will do whatever it takes to procure it for you.”

  Unable to fight any longer, she closed her eyes. “I want . . .”

  “Yes?” Unease clouded his response.

  “I want . . . to sleep.” Her voice became barely audible to her through the tunnel in her ears.

  “As you wish,” she heard him say before she gave into the welcoming warmth of slumber.

  “I don’t care what you say. You are either going to do it, or I will do it myself.” Grace’s voice rose with every word.

  Braiden groaned. His sweet-natured wife became impossible when confined to bed for a week. He had done everything he could think of to entertain her and make her comfortable, but this pressed his limits.

  “If you give me a few more days, the wheelchair will be here and you can have hundreds of baths at the manor.”

  “So you intend to give me that many baths later? Hmm, I’m not sure if I should be insulted or pleased you intend to get me very clean.”

  Thrusting his hands in his hair, he tugged at the strands as if the slight pain would alleviate him of the torment Grace continually insisted on placing upon him. Without a tub in the cabin, he would be forced to rub a cloth over every inch of her body. To this point, he provided her assistance with her every need, while saving himself the sight of her bare flesh.

  “Grace, please.”

  “You may be comfortable covered in a week’s worth of filth, but I am not. I can bathe myself. I just need you to bring me the supplies.”

  He closed his eyes, not sure which was worse. Him running the cloth over her or watching her do it to herself. His mouth dried as images clouded his mind.

  She huffed, breaking him from his erotic thoughts. “A week ago you promised me everything I ever wanted, and now you deny me something as small as a bath.”

  Reluctant, but unable to deny her any longer, he got up and collected the supplies for her. There was nothing else he could do. Living in close quarters with her during the day, and having her sprawled across him at night, brought such painful agony. Now he would have to endure this.

  Once she was settled with what she needed, he rushed outside. Even hearing the sound of the towel dipping in the water had been too much. Instead he busied himself brushing down his stallion and chopping more wood.

  Although his restless hands made him move through the chores quickly, he imagined she would be done by now. Still he went down to the stream to cleanse his face and hands.

  Taking a deep breath of the cool air, he tried to calm his pumping heart. The weather brought memories of Stonemede. This upcoming holiday season would be far different than the last. He shook his head. Now was not the time to recall all those stolen moments with Grace.

  Reentering the cabin, he made as much noise as he could to alert Grace to his presence. When his eyes fell upon her, he dropped the wood he’d been holding as the blood rushed from his face to occupy his lower region.

  She lay upon the bed, completely naked with the towel still in her hand. Her rose-tipped breasts were hardened by the air, and calling out to him to taste them. Scanning his gaze lower, he took in her trim waist and black curls covering her womanhood.

  “I’m sorry.” Her voice was breathless. “The chore is quite a bit more taxing than I realized.”

  Guided by pure male instinct, he moved toward the bed and stood above her. He took the cloth from her limp hand.

  “Tell me what to do,” he croaked.

  “My legs.”

  Obediently dipping the rag in the water, he ran it along the length of her perfect legs. He wished for nothing more than to touch her bare skin without the barrier. Taking his time with each leg, he did his best to keep his eyes on his task and not the other parts of her body he longed for.

  Once finished, he dropped the rag in the basin, and forced his hand to grab the blanket to cover her up.

  “Braiden,” she whispered, her voice holding as much desire as he felt.

  Unable to resist, he dropped the sheet and ran a hand down her cheek, continuing lower until he reached her breasts. Her breathing became heavy and her eyelids closed as he caressed her. Sitting on the bed beside her, he leaned forward and took one pert nipple in his mouth. She gasped but didn’t stop him.

  Further encouraged, he turned his body until he rested on top of her, forcing her legs apart so he could straddle her uninjured leg. The feeling of her underneath him set his body aflame, but he chanted in his mind not to hurt her.

  Moving his mouth up, he captured her lips, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. Her exuberance pushed him, leaving him shaking with need. Drawing his hand down her body, he teased her curls before plunging his fingers into her depths. She stiffened, then moaned into his mouth as he stroked her tight body.

  Sweat broke out across his forehead. He wanted her so badly. Never before had a woman driven him so wild. But he had to remain in control.

  He would bring her to pleasure. He would use every weapon in his arsenal to bring her to bliss. Only then would he satiate his own lust and pray she forgave him for
it.

  Increasing the pace, he moved his mouth back to her breast. Her fingers bit into his back as her head began to thrash back and forth. Thought became difficult as he pushed her, silently demanding she give in to pleasure.

  When she screamed, he swore the walls shook. He kissed her again, more feverishly this time, as his male pride soared with her to the heights. His mouth moved everywhere he could reach as he calmed her with his fingers, then withdrew them.

  Her eyes slowly opened, and he read delight in the deep blue abyss. “What was that?”

  “Heaven,” he answered, his voice tight. “Want to go there again?”

  He breathed heavily through his mouth as indecision crossed her face. Answering for her, he moved his lips down her body. If she had to hold onto a bad memory of this night, he would surround it with pleasure first.

  “Where are you going?” Her voice sounded panicked, but he refused to relent.

  Gently pushing her legs wider, he moved between them, all the while continuing his dissent. Anticipation squeezed his chest as he hovered over her womanhood.

  “Braiden!” she screamed as he tasted her honeyed center. His breeches were too tight and the restriction of his engorged member brought pain, but he refused to move. Returning his hand to her, he drove her until she again fell off the brink.

  He reveled in her cries and taste as release raked her body. At this moment, he found more happiness than in his entire life. Gazing into her languid face, his chest swelled. He’d done that. He put the pink in her cheeks and the light in her eyes.

 

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