The Infamous Duchess

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The Infamous Duchess Page 25

by Sophie Barnes


  Henry could not resist any longer. He reached out and grabbed her and pulled her up onto his lap. She gasped and he swallowed the sound with his mouth while holding her firmly in place. Drawing back slightly, he ran his thumb over her plump lower lip, dragging it down until her mouth opened. “Stay, just like that,” he murmured, loving the heavy-lidded look on her face as he pressed her to him and slid his hand down from her face to her thigh, “so I can taste you.”

  She sucked in an audible breath and he smiled as he lowered his mouth over hers. She remained as he’d asked, granting him entry. When she whimpered slightly, he almost forgot himself as a new elemental power took over. She tasted so sweet, and the way she responded . . . Dear God, she was growing increasingly hard to resist. Especially now with her arms winding tight around his neck as if she were clinging to life itself. He could feel her heartbeat echoing through his chest as she pressed up against him.

  If he wasn’t mistaken, she wanted the same as he and with equal fervor. “Viola . . .” He breathed her name against the corner of her mouth before trailing a series of kisses along her jaw. “You can’t possibly imagine what you do to me.”

  “I can feel it,” she whispered, and he grinned close to her ear.

  Finding her mouth once again, he kissed her as if it would never be enough, as if his life depended on this particular kiss. Her body leaned further into his embrace, seeking more, and when he lost his balance and fell back against the grass, she followed him down, landing against him with a gasp.

  “Viola.” Her name fell from his lips once more as he gazed up into her gorgeous face. She smiled in response and words failed him, the wonder of what was happening between them like a dream he feared waking up from. Unable to resist her beauty and completely unwilling to try, Henry brought her mouth back for more.

  He wasn’t sure how long he kissed her this time, but when she finally pulled away and leaned her forehead against his, his heart was calmer, his mind more at ease. “I think I could happily kiss you forever,” he told her, and pressed his lips to her temple. “You taste divine, like fresh air and sea spray.”

  “So do you.” She smiled a little before shyly adding, “This day together is—”

  “Better than you expected it to be?” he asked while stroking her jaw in reverent adoration.

  “Yes.” She sighed and angled her head to grant better access.

  He laughed into her cheek until she vibrated from head to toe. “Just imagine how good it will be when we finally make love.”

  “You speak of it as if it’s an eventuality.”

  Rolling her onto her back, he gazed down at her without bothering to hide the hunger her kiss had evoked. “Coming here with me today, confiding your secrets and kissing me as you just did, says it all.” Brushing a stray strand of hair from her cheek, he tucked the errant lock behind her ear. “You are mine, Viola.” His lips brushed her forehead. “And I am never, ever letting you go.”

  Viola stared at the letter on her desk, sighing as she reread the missive from Mr. Steadford. Her stomach clenched. She’d been able to forget about Robert for a fleeting moment while she’d been away at Hastings and had hoped to continue doing so for a while longer. But that was not to be. She was back in London, where problems continued to plague her.

  A solid knock at the door made her flinch. Looking up, she saw Henry standing in the doorway. A smile graced his lips and his eyes shone with pleasure. “Good morning,” he said, stepping inside the office and crossing the floor to one of the empty chairs. His smile slipped slightly when he met her serious gaze. “Everything all right?”

  “Robert and Hayes want to see me. I’m to meet with them at Tremaine House tomorrow together with Mr. Steadford, but the thought of having to go there again and face Robert’s condescension is not something I relish.” She set the letter down on her desk and removed her spectacles. Distressed and worried, she didn’t even care that she’d been wearing them when Henry walked in. “Will you please come with me?”

  “Of course,” Henry said. He didn’t sit but remained standing instead, one hand loosely resting against the chair’s back. “I can also insist that we hold the meeting at my town house, if you prefer.”

  She nodded. “Yes. I think I would.” Meeting with Robert on neutral ground, in a place where he had no authority, would make it easier for her to face him. “Thank you, Henry.”

  Rising, Viola rounded her desk. “Let’s go and inform both Steadford and Hayes of the change.” She collected her bonnet and spencer from a hook on the wall and stopped to think. “Unless, of course, you have other plans. I do not want to impose since—”

  “Everything else can wait,” he said. Taking her spencer out of her hands, he helped her put it on. He leaned in closer and whisper against her ear. “Helping you is the only thing that matters right now.”

  A shiver dove under her skin and she sucked in a breath, startled as always by the visceral effect he had on her. He didn’t linger after he spoke but stepped toward the door, where he waited for her to gather her wits while regarding her with no small amount of mischief. She moved toward him and he, devil that he was, decided to add, “If I’m lucky, you’ll thank me later with a kiss.”

  Unable to think, let alone speak after that had been said, she preceded him out of the hospital and toward his carriage. Once inside, she managed to wait until they were well under way before crossing to where he sat on the opposite bench and pressing her mouth to his. “I’m sorry,” she muttered, breathless as he slid his mouth down her neck to the crook of her shoulder. “I don’t want to wait until later.”

  He chuckled against her and playfully nipped her flesh with his teeth, sending hot little shivers straight into her belly. “Don’t ever apologize for desiring me, Viola.” His mouth found hers once again, kissing her until she felt light and restless and desperate for more. “It pleases me to no end, knowing that you do.” Another kiss followed before he steered her back to the opposite bench. Eyes glowing, he regarded her while she straightened her clothes and her bonnet. “Lord help me, the things I want to do to you . . .” He grinned and shook his head while her entire face seemed to catch on fire.

  The carriage drew to a halt, and Henry reached for the handle and opened the door. He helped her alight, and together they marched up the front steps of Mr. Steadford’s place of business. But the barrister wasn’t in, so they left a note with his secretary, informing Mr. Steadford of the proposed change in location and continued on to Mr. Hayes’s office. A sharply dressed younger gentleman opened the door when they knocked. He took Henry’s card and asked them to wait in the foyer, returning moments later to usher them through to Hayes’s office.

  Entering, they found the man they sought keeping company with another gentleman Henry didn’t recognize.

  “Good morning, Mr. Lowell,” Hayes said. He nodded toward Viola. “Your Grace. Are you acquainted with the Honorable Mr. Justice Atkins? He and I were just discussing available court dates.”

  Henry addressed Atkins stiffly. “A pleasure to meet you, Judge.”

  Atkins gave Henry and Viola an assessing look. “Likewise.”

  “Turns out we might be able to settle this case quicker than I had expected,” Hayes said with an eager look of anticipation. “Another case has been rescheduled so there’s an opening ten days from today.”

  “Ten days.” Viola almost choked on the words as she spoke them. “But . . .”

  “I sympathize with you, Duchess, truly I do,” Hayes said.

  Viola very much doubted it.

  “What if we’re not ready to go to court yet?” Henry asked.

  “Unfortunately, once the case has been brought before a judge, he decides when to set the date,” Atkins said. “The tenth of May suits well since we would otherwise have to wait at least a year.”

  A year sounded wonderful to Viola. She looked at Hayes, hoping to grasp just one straw. “You cannot possibly be ready to go to court after spending only a month gathering evidenc
e.”

  He shrugged. “My clerks have been particularly efficient where you are concerned and . . . well . . . Tremaine has paid a steep price to expedite the matter.”

  “I was under the impression that he needed funds,” Henry muttered with a jarring note of sarcasm.

  Hayes chuckled. “Right you are, Mr. Lowell, but as it turns out, his stay in India wasn’t wasted. He’s still able to afford a comfortable lifestyle, though I daresay that the money he expects to make on selling your hospital, Duchess, will help him a great deal.”

  Viola bristled. “It will never be his.”

  Hayes smirked. “I think you’ll realize how wrong you are about that when I present you with my findings tomorrow.”

  “About that,” Henry said. “Her Grace prefers not to visit Tremaine House again so I would like to propose we meet at my home instead.”

  Hayes seemed to consider. He glanced at Viola and then back at Henry before saying, “As you wish. I see no reason to oppose.”

  Holding herself upright while the ground seemed to slip away beneath her feet, Viola glared at Hayes before turning to Atkins. “What do you stand to gain from all of this?”

  “Viola,” Henry cautioned.

  “I don’t like what you are implying,” Atkins growled.

  “I’m sorry,” Viola said. “But who ever heard of a case progressing this fast?” She pointed an accusatory finger at the judge. “He’s obviously been bought.”

  “I must caution you against accusing the man who’ll be deciding your fate,” Henry whispered.

  “I think it is time for Her Grace to take her leave,” Atkins said. “She’s clearly overwrought.”

  “And understandably so,” Henry clipped. “Tremaine has treated her abominably.”

  “That is a matter of opinion,” Hayes said. “Furthermore, it is the word of a woman accused of manipulating an aging peer into marriage and stealing his fortune, against that of a duke. There’s no doubt in my mind about who will win.”

  “We shall see about that,” Viola told him even as her confidence buckled under his.

  “Indeed we shall,” Hayes agreed.

  When he said nothing further, Viola walked out of the room without saying another word. Her hands were shaking when she stepped down onto the pavement, her bones chilled with wary apprehension. “I hate those men,” she told Henry when he arrived at her side. “How can someone be so awful?”

  Instead of responding, he offered her his arm and guided her toward the carriage, where he handed her up. When he climbed in after her and lowered himself to sit on the bench beside her, she took his hand and simply held it.

  “Do you have any idea what information Hayes might have uncovered?” Henry quietly asked.

  Viola swallowed and tried to stay calm. “I haven’t a clue.”

  “There’s no chance of him knowing you’re not Marsh’s daughter or that your mother was a courtesan?”

  Shuddering, she shook her head. “No. I was born in France and Marsh did everything he could to protect me—to hide the truth of my birth. There are no records.”

  Henry was silent for a moment and then he drew a deep breath. “Good.” He glanced out the window briefly before returning his attention to her. “Whatever happens, we’ll get through it together.”

  As much as Viola appreciated him saying so and in spite of the fact that she knew he was helping because she mattered to him, she didn’t feel right about all the trouble she’d caused him. “I’m sorry I got you involved in all of this.”

  “Don’t be,” he told her sincerely. “If it hadn’t been for this case and your need for a good barrister, I might never have found an excuse to get to know you better. And that would have been a tragic shame.”

  “But my life is a mess, Henry. It is not exactly the sort of thing to tempt a man into forming a permanent attachment, and even if it were, you need a respectable wife by your side, not someone who’s likely to cause a potential scandal.”

  His eyes searched her face in desperation. “Is that what you want, Viola?” he asked, focusing on the first part of what she’d just said. “A more permanent attachment?”

  She turned more fully toward him and set her palm against his cheek. The carriage rocked side to side as it turned a corner. Looking back at the man who had come to mean so incredibly much to her lately, Viola searched her heart for the right thing to say. She wanted him desperately, but at the same time she needed to save him from the shame she might yet cause him if word got out about who she was.

  “I don’t know,” she finally said, for she knew that if she said yes there would be no going back. He’d marry her in a heartbeat, trapping himself with a woman whose name was seconds away from being dragged through the mud. Again.

  His eyes held hers for a long, difficult moment and then he kissed her, long and hard and without apology. “I meant what I said at Hastings,” he told her when he drew back. Tipping her chin up with his fingers, he held her so he could stare down into her eyes, to the very depth of her soul. A smile tugged at his lips and she imagined he saw the truth that was written upon her heart. “I’m never letting you go, no matter how patient I must be or how long I have to wait for you to be ready.”

  Saying nothing, Viola tamped down the flare of excitement she felt in response to those words. Because she was more than ready. She just didn’t want him to make a mistake that might end up destroying his life.

  Chapter 23

  When Viola arrived at Henry’s house the next day, she was shown into the parlor, where a tea tray waited. Viola glanced around, appreciating the simple yet costly furnished space. No knickknacks cluttered the fireplace mantel or other available surfaces, but the sofas were clad in exquisite silk damask and the tables appeared to have been carved from rich mahogany.

  “Good morning, Viola,” Henry said as he entered the room. Dressed in a burgundy jacket and a pair of beige trousers, he was just as impeccably dressed as any duke might have been. But what flipped her stomach right onto its side was the fire in his eyes as he stepped toward her and reached for her hand. He raised it to his lips, his gaze fixed on hers as he brushed a kiss across her knuckles. And then, as if recognizing the sizzling effect he was having on her, the edge of his mouth hitched with mischief.

  Viola just stood there, breathless and utterly incapable of movement. She swallowed, because heaven help her, she was having thoughts . . . thoughts that would only ever be realized if she agreed to be his wife. The temptation was great and he knew it, damn him. She could see in the glint of his eyes that he was being deliberately seductive and that it was working.

  “Was the air very fresh on your way over?” he asked. His gaze lingered on her face and his hand continued holding hers for longer than what was deemed proper. When she failed to respond, he quietly murmured, “Because you look rather flushed. Delightfully so, I might add.”

  “It was, um . . . yes.” The man had apparently made her stupid.

  He leaned in closer, glanced hastily at the wide open door and then pulled her roughly into his arms, stealing her gasp of surprise with a bone-jarring kiss that weakened her knees and robbed her of all remaining thought.

  When he set her aside moments later her head felt slightly unstable. Raising the tips of her fingers to her lips, she blinked as she looked up at Henry.

  He grinned, the rascal. “Steadford confirmed that he will be joining us here, so he, Robert and Hayes are expected to arrive in roughly ten minutes. I could show you the automaton while we wait.”

  “Oh yes,” Viola said. She’d been curious about the machine ever since Henry first mentioned owning it and followed him eagerly into his library. When they entered the room, a large ball of fur leapt onto the floor right in front of her feet, causing her to take a step back. “Oh!” She stared at the creature with wide-eyed dismay.

  “My cat,” Henry said with a wave of his hand. “I present to you Newton.”

  “He is very . . .” Viola struggled to find the right word.


  “Fat,” Henry supplied. He sighed while Viola watched Newton flop to the floor and sprawl out with lazy abandon. “My cook can’t seem to resist him. I keep telling her she’ll be the death of him one day but it’s like talking to a brick wall.”

  Viola chuckled and bent to run her hand over Newton’s fluffy coat. He purred with pleasure and turned to offer his belly.

  “Enough of that, you scoundrel,” Henry told Newton with notable humor in his voice.

  “I think he likes me,” Viola said.

  “He’s male,” Henry said. “Of course he likes you.”

  Looking up, she became aware of the intensity with which Henry watched her. Heat fanned out across her shoulders, but then she spied the glass case they had come to see. Her temperature returned to normal while a new kind of excitement overcame her.

  She leapt to her feet and hurried toward it. “Your automaton,” she said, admiring the boy who held his quill in preparation for the next words he’d be asked to pen. “He’s wonderful, Henry. Absolutely wonderful!”

  Henry smiled with undeniable pleasure. “Just wait until you watch him write. It’s quite a mechanical marvel.”

  “Do we have time for that now?” Please say yes.

  “I—”

  A loud banging sound came from the front of the house, causing Henry to frown. “I’m afraid not. It seems our guests have arrived.” He led Viola quickly back to the parlor. When they entered the room, he gestured toward the sofa. “I think you should have a seat there at the end. It will offer you a regal appearance while preventing you from having to face Robert too closely.”

  Agreeing with him, Viola took the seat he indicated, arranged her skirts and folded her hands neatly in her lap. Back straight, she stared toward the parlor door while asking her nerves to be still.

  Steadford entered shortly after, followed by Hayes and finally Robert, who glared at her as soon as she came into his line of vision. Greetings were made with clipped politeness and then Henry came to sit by her side before anyone else could do so. She breathed a sigh of relief and fought the urge to reach for his hand when Hayes placed a large pile of papers on the table before her.

 

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