The Scandalous Secret 0f The Tempting Duchess (Steamy Historical Regency Romance)

by Scarlett Osborne

  Matilda wished she had the power to resist him but now she knew that was fruitless. She only had to think of him and she would feel her will slipping, knowing that the moment he appeared before her, all the things she’d said to him would be for naught.

  Would it be so bad to allow herself to love? Matilda watched the streets pass her by, seeing none of it as that persistent question popped into her mind once again. She had a bad reputation. She was known to everyone else as the mother to an illegitimate son and no one knew the father. The Miss Matilda Jones she’d been before had no place in this society because they had casted her out. She was ruined.

  Yet, Timothy wanted her. He made that known every time they were in each other’s presence. Even when he wasn’t speaking to her, his eyes spoke volumes, showing secrets he wanted her to unravel. Matilda wanted nothing more than to unlock the secrets of his heart. She could admit that much to herself now.

  The Duke of Brentminster. Of all the lords of the ton, he was the one she was attracted to. How great.

  Matilda stifled her sigh. She went through the motions of exiting the carriage as they arrived, staying behind her parents and her sister as they were announced upon entrance. She focused on none of it, but as they settled into a comfortable area of the ball, watching dukes and other lords make their way over to greet Elizabeth, she was once again consumed with thoughts of Timothy.

  She saw Lady Nancy first. She was standing next to Lord and Lady Ferbriand, wearing a pleasant smile she knew all too well. She was a vision in her pale-yellow gown, which only seemed to make her golden hair shine brighter. Matilda couldn’t tear her eyes away.

  Who was this lady? It seemed like she was a close friend of Timothy because, sometime throughout the night, she always found her way to his side. It never lasted very long so as not to inspire rumors, but Matilda felt there was something more to it. She wasn’t sure what.

  She was overthinking. They could simply be friends. Timothy was clearly close to the Viscount of Crauford, her brother. It could simply be that he was close with the family on a whole.

  Why do I care so much?

  Matilda looked away from her, but then her eyes caught sight of Lord Bramber by her side. He was staring directly at her. Matilda didn’t look away, instead smoothing away the frown that was fast forming when she saw the intensity of his stare.

  It didn’t last long. A few seconds later, he raised the glass he held in his hand to her and looked away, but not before she witnessed the slight smirk he gave her. Matilda looked away as well, allowing the confusion to sink in deeper. What was that about?

  “Good evening, Miss Jones.” Matilda turned to the voice behind her, her heartbeat spiking. But it wasn’t who she wanted it to be. Rather it was Lord Ghutiel, an Earl she had danced with at a previous ball.

  “My Lord, how nice it is to see you again. How are you?”

  “I am doing quite fine, Miss Jones.” He offered a small smile. “And you?”

  “I am well, also.” She left it at that, waiting for him to move on to why he had approached her. She wouldn’t mind if he asked her to dance. Of her few dance partners, he had been one of the good ones.

  “Well, would you like to dance, Miss Jones? I quite like this song.”

  “Oh, do you now?” She gave him an identical smile to his. “A dance would be lovely. Shall we?”

  He led her out to the dance floor and the moment they began dancing, he began talking. Matilda zoned out without noticing. She responded to him a few times, giving him a polite smile as if she were truly listening. Unable to help it, she roved her eyes through the crowd, trying to spot that familiar head of dark hair.

  “And there is a bug in your hair, Miss Jones.”

  “Yes, My Lord, I think so too.”

  “The bug will be running down to your face soon enough. Does that not bother you?”

  “I think that is lovely, My Lord.”

  “Well then. You haven’t been listening to a word I said.”

  “Yes, My Lord—” She broke off, looking at him. “Pardon?”

  He looked back at her. Matilda wasn’t sure if she saw humor or annoyance hiding beneath his features. “You haven’t heard a word I said, haven’t you, Miss Jones? You’ve been agreeing to the fact that there is a bug in your hair?”

  “A bug?” It was an effort not to squeal but she did stop dancing and another dancing couple nearly bumped into them.

  This time, Lord Ghutiel chuckled. “There is no bug, Miss Jones. I was simply trying to get your attention and it failed. Or, should I say, it worked a little too late.”

  “My apologies, My Lord. My mind was wandering elsewhere and I…”

  “There’s no need for apologies, Miss Jones. I understand if you find me boring.”

  “My Lord, I—”

  “No, actually, I believe it might be because I’m simply not handsome enough to attract your attention. Is that what it is, Miss Jones?”

  “My Lord, there is no—”

  “Alas, I always believed I wasn’t the ugliest gentleman out there but it seemed that I just might be. Miss Jones, you wound me.”

  “No, My Lord—”

  “Oh goodness. You’re going to say that I am both ugly and boring, aren’t you? Well then. This just might be the worst ball I’ve ever attended.”

  It wasn’t until she noticed the quick quirk of his lips did it all begin to make sense. “Ah, I see,” she said, her anxiousness melting into her own breed of amusement. “Tell me, My Lord. Do you make it a habit of poking fun at the ladies you dance with?”

  “On the contrary, Miss Jones, I’ve never had the urge to do so until I danced with you. It seems I’m quite good at it.”

  “That you are, My Lord. I quite like a joke or two myself.”

  “Do you now? Then I would love to poke fun at you whenever you give me the chance.”

  Her smile slipped a bit. She read the intention behind his words easily and avoided his eyes because of it. “I will ensure to keep this in mind, My Lord.”

  “Ah, I see. Should I go on about how ugly I am again?”

  Without warning, Matilda blurted out a little laugh. She held it back with her hand, but when she heard Lord Ghutiel chuckling himself, she gave into it. It was a while since she last laughed so freely with someone who wasn’t related to her.

  “Unfortunately, Miss Jones, the dance has come to an end,” Lord Ghutiel said with genuine disappointment in his voice. “I will seek you out again during the night for another dance. Are you fine with that?”

  “I’ll look forward to it, My Lord,” she said with a smile.

  Matilda felt true regret walking away from him. Suddenly, she wished she had other friends. It felt nice to talk with someone in such a lighthearted manner.

  The regret melted the moment she met eyes with Timothy. He was staring at her, not far from where she stood, and the intensity in that gaze had her rooted to the spot. There was no passion, no eagerness, nothing but the burn of his jealousy as he watched her from afar. Her heart spiked at the sight, thudding painfully against her chest. It wasn’t something that should please her, yet her stomach pooled with heat, her fingers itched with the urge—no, the need—to touch him.

  He’s angry for some reason, yet I want to cross the distance and pull him into a kiss. What is wrong with me?

  Matilda didn’t know how she managed to tear her eyes away.

  “The Duke is staring at you,” Elizabeth murmured to her the moment she returned to their side.

  She looked at her, wide-eyed. “You noticed that?”

  “Who hasn’t? The ballroom grew hot all of a sudden?” At Matilda’s tiny gasp, she laughed. “I’m only joking, Matilda. It isn’t obvious. I only noticed because I’ve been watching him since the moment he was announced.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me he was here?” she whispered to her, feeling a little on edge now that she knew he was here and he was watching her so openly.

  Elizabeth only gave her a shrug. “How w
as I supposed to when you were dancing with Lord Ghutiel? It looks like a certain Duke is jealous though.”’

  “Elizabeth, that isn’t something a lady should say.”

  “Oh, Matilda, if I ever want to know what a lady shouldn’t say, I should just go to you. And you know it.”

  There was no denying that. But that was because Matilda didn’t care anymore. She had no hope. Elizabeth did. “Even so, let’s not have this conversation here.”

  “If that’s what you want,” Elizabeth said. “But he’ll be over soon. I hope you’re ready for that.”

  Matilda was and she wasn’t. Her heart was already beating rapidly at the thought of what he might say when he did approach her, and though Matilda knew she owed him nothing, her belly cramped with need.

  There was something about the look he was giving her that made the person she knew become someone entirely different. This gentleman was the Duke of Brentminster. A gentleman who knows how to take care of business and the thought made her mouth go dry.

  Matilda looked at him again and, lo and behold, he was staring back at her. Then, he cocked his head to the side for a quick second. Matilda looked in that direction to see he was indicating at the open doors to the left of the ball.

  Things would only get worse if they were caught but Matilda couldn’t find it within herself to care right now.

  With a slight nod, she headed toward it.

  Chapter 17

  Timothy arrived right when the ball was in full swing. As per usual, the ladies stood a little straighter, spoke a little louder, and failed to avert their gazes away from him when he wasn’t looking. Jonathan noticed it all, but what he really cared about was the one lady who didn’t seem to notice Timothy’s arrival at all.

  “You’re late, my friend,” he said conversationally. “You’re rarely ever late for anything. Did something keep you?”

  “Nothing at all,” Timothy said, managing to keep his tone bored. Or perhaps he truly was disinterested with everything going on around him. Jonathan still wasn’t entirely sure. “I simply did not want to be here.”

  “You didn’t have to attend, Timothy. You know that, don’t you?”

  “Of course, I do. But Lady Nancy insisted that I did. She said she wanted my company tonight.”

  “And you were trying to please her,” Jonathan cooed. “How sweet of you.”

  Timothy didn’t meet his eyes. “It is the least I can do since the wedding will not be set for a while.”

  “For a while?” Jonathan kept his tone mild, swirling the glass of lemonade in his hand. “Your private matters will be going on for so long?”

  “I’m afraid they will, unfortunately. But enough about me. Where is Lady Nancy?”

  “She’s dancing. You know how much she loves that.”

  “She’ll insist I save her a dance, won’t she?”

  Is that resignation I sense in his voice?

  “That’s no problem. This song will soon be over anyway…”

  Jonathan raised his brows at him when he trailed off. “What is it?” He looked in the direction Timothy was staring, not completely surprised to see that Miss Jones was the object of his stare.

  “Is there a problem?” Jonathan asked him, not bothering to keep his intense stare to a minimum. Timothy didn’t tear his gaze away from her, watching as she was twirled around by Lord Ghutiel, who was known for his smooth tongue and his deep pockets.

  “No problem,” Timothy said. But his eyes didn’t move away and his voice sounded thick.

  “What are we looking at?” Jonathan asked, feigning confusion.

  “I’m not looking at anything.” Finally, he tore his eyes away from her, but there was a flame in them that hadn’t been there before.

  “It’s Miss Jones, is it not?”

  “What?”

  “I think you heard me. You were staring at Miss Jones, although I can’t fathom why.” Slowly, Jonathan’s brow deepened into a frown. “Are you, perhaps, interested in courting her, Timothy?”

  “Why would you ask me such a thing when you’re aware I’m betrothed to your sister?”

  “True, but not of your own free will, admittedly. Maybe your heart has taken you elsewhere.”

  He knew he was taunting Timothy, trying to see if he had been as accurate he had been in reading the situation as he thought. Timothy didn’t rise to the bait, however. “My decision to marry Lady Nancy is just that. My decision. My father may have promised me to her a long time ago but I have the power to rid myself of that covenant if I wanted to.”

  “And you don’t.”

  “I don’t,” Timothy said with such conviction that Jonathan nearly believed him. “I will be there for her.”

  Be there for her?

  Jonathan’s frown deepened at that, but he didn’t bother to question it. Later tonight, when he met with that person in secret, he would know the truth in his friend’s words. For now, he only had his intuition to go on and his intuition was telling him that his friend was selling him a bald-faced lie.

  There was something going on between them. Timothy had returned his gaze to Miss Jones and she noticed him as well this time. They stared openly at each other, as if the world around them didn’t exist. Jonathan nearly missed it, but he saw when Timothy inclined his head to the side. He saw when Miss Jones looked herself to see the wide open doors leading out of the ballroom. He saw understanding set into her features.

  Ah, a secret rendezvous?

  Jonathan set his glass down, waiting for the excuse Timothy was about to offer him. He didn’t get it. “Pardon me for a moment,” was all Timothy said before he was heading off in that direction. Jonathan looked back at Miss Jones to see that she was already gone.

  He waited a few moments. He watched his friend’s head bob away in the crowd until he lost him entirely and then he followed behind. He maintained a safe distance, not wanting to give himself away as the crowd dwindled down. They were discreet, quick. They slipped out and into the darkness without anyone noticing. Jonathan followed suit.

  Jonathan melded himself into the shadows, careful with his footsteps. He watched them, his heart oddly pounding as his friend approached Miss Jones from behind. She turned to him but the distance between them was polite, distant even. He waited it out.

  Then, Timothy stepped closer to her. She raised a hand, as if to ward him off, but it only landed harmlessly on his chest. It didn’t thwart Timothy at all. If anything, he was spurred on by the touch and he slid a hand around to the back of her neck and leaned in for a kiss.

  Jonathan only watched for a few moments. Anger, pure and steady, rose in him at the scene, but he did nothing. There was nothing he could do about it right now, except pat himself on the back for figuring it out so easily.

  This wasn’t what was supposed to happen. Timothy was to marry Nancy. Their companies, and families, were to merge. This was putting a rift in his plans and Jonathan didn’t like when things didn’t go as planned.

  He watched them for a few more seconds but they showed no signs of breaking apart. So he left. There were people moving around, others who were coming out for fresh air and so there was a high potential they would be caught. Jonathan left that up to luck. If they weren’t caught and publicly scandalized, then he would have to take matters into his own hands.

  * * *

  “We should head inside,” Matilda murmured to him. They should also step away from each other before someone caught them, but having his arms around her was much too pleasurable. She felt safe, in their own world where there were no titles and rules of etiquettes to bother them. They could be themselves in this world.

  “Just a few more seconds,” Timothy murmured into her hair.

  How could the mere smell of her make me want her so?

  “I know this is a foolish thing to say. And I know I might be putting my foot in my mouth by saying it, but does this mean you are open to the idea of my courting you?”

  The question only served to make her smile. “Yo
u’re right, Your Grace. It is a very foolish thing to ask.”

  “Timothy,” he murmured.

  “Timothy,” she said. “I would have thought that my actions answered that question for you.”

  “I would rather not jump to any conclusions. With you, Matilda, I would like to be certain.” He pulled away, staring into her eyes. Matilda felt like he was staring right into her soul.