Only a Lady Will Do: To Marry a Rogue, Book 5

by Gill, Tamara

  The following day Iris sat in the Duke's library and listened to all the reasons as to why they would marry. Words such as honor demanded they marry. It was what was expected of him after being caught in such a compromising position.

  A letter to her mama had been sent via express courier and the next few weeks deemed to be one of the busiest of her life. A marriage to a duke was not what she had expected when arriving in London. Nor had she expected him to kiss her last evening.

  All the reasons he rattled out to her made her blood run cold. A tremor of panic rose within her that should she marry him, their marriage would be one of duty, forced wills, and not love. Not a marriage with affection, even though last night Iris had had a glimpse of what could lay between them if the duke opened his heart to her.

  Where there was passion, there could be affection. She was sure of it. But the way he spoke now, no-nonsense, no emotion within his tone, merely a flat, point-by-point outlining of everything that would occur in the next few weeks. How large their wedding would be. How many guests. Who they would invite and what would happen after the wedding breakfast.

  "We shall remain here for the remainder of the Season and return to Dunsleigh at its conclusion. I do not see any reason as to why we should depart. Mother and the housekeeper at Dunsleigh will guide you as to what will be required of you when managing your own home."

  "While I have been raised to run a house of my own, Your Grace, Dunsleigh will be larger, I grant you, but it is still a home. I'm certain I can handle the expectations of me."

  He met her gaze, raising his chin. "Have I offended you, Miss Cooper? You seem a little put out with me," he stated, watching her closely.

  She fought not to roll her eyes at his aloofness, his use of her given name. Where had Iris disappeared to? Were they to be distant now? "We're to be married. Iris will do very well."

  "You are angry over your name?" he pushed, wanting to know.

  Not that Iris was willing to tell him. Not unless their first conversation regarding their future ended with an argument. "No one but your mama caught us kissing, Your Grace. Is it really necessary that we marry? I'm certain if you asked your mother, and I spoke with her too, she would spare us this ordeal."

  He coughed, placing down his quill. "Ordeal? Is that what you think our marriage will be, Iris?" he said, using her name and blast him to hades. Her heart curled around his words, warmth spreading through her core at his use of it.

  She gestured to him. "You are very businesslike. Cold and calculating. I do not like the tone of our conversation. I do not want a husband who does not feel anything for me. I came to London to look for love. That you kissed me is not my fault, and I do not see why I have to be punished by it by marrying you." There, she had said her grievances after all, and she felt better for it. He ought to know the truth now before it was too late.

  It is already too late. Your mama has been written to. The duchess is demanding a wedding.

  "My feelings are engaged, Iris. Our kiss stated such a fact, I thought."

  His attention dipped to her lips, and she fought the urge to dampen them. Their kiss had been sweet one moment and then a kaleidoscope of need the next. To think about it now made her body throb.

  "You kiss many women. I'm no fool to think you do not."

  He held up his hand, halting her words. "I do not kiss many women, certainly not unmarried maids having a Season." He stood, came around the desk, and stood before her, arms crossed. He leaned against the desk, debating her.

  Iris met his gaze, waited for what he would say next. "I kissed you because I like you. I kissed you because I wanted to kiss you."

  Iris did not know what to do, how to react, or anything. In fact, all she could manage was to gape at him before her senses came back to rights. "You wanted to kiss me?" Did he wish to kiss her again? She wanted him to, desperately so. She may state all she liked that marriage to the duke was a bad idea, love was not what they felt for each other, but his kisses were very nice. She would not mind so much had they simply kept those up.

  "I did, and I think over the next few weeks and years to come, we shall partake in a lot of it." His voice dipped to a raspy tenor that prickled her skin. "Among other things."

  Iris adjusted her skirts, not wanting him to see the heat blooming on her cheeks. No man, not even Dudley, had teased her so during their engagement. She had not even kissed him before he passed away.

  "All I'm trying to explain is that a marriage between us will be viewed by the ton as odd. They will think you have compromised me in more ways than a kiss." She stood, needing to be on eye level with the duke. "I do not want anyone to think that I came here to your home and somehow compromised you into marrying a woman far beneath your rank. Even the thought of having to face Lady Sophie Hammilyn when she hears that you are betrothed will be torturous enough."

  He frowned, shaking his head at her words. "Why would it be disagreeable for Lady Sophie? I have not promised anything to the lady."

  "Because if you bothered to look at her at all, you would see that she is in love with you. Pines for you and has done so since your visit to her estate last year."

  "I do not want to marry Lady Sophie. I would not have offered to you if I did so. I would not have kissed you."

  Iris paced over to the window and back. "You do not wish to marry me either," she retorted. "All I am saying is that I would like you to think about things for just a moment. I will marry you should I have to, but if your mama does not say a word, and we do not kiss again, I see no reason why I cannot continue my Season, find a gentleman who does want to marry me, and then I'll be out of your way forever. You shall marry a woman who fills all your requirements, and both of us will be happy."

  "Is that what you truly wish for, my dear?" the dowager duchess asked, entering the room and closing the door softly behind her.

  Josh groaned, pinning his mother with a disapproving glare. "Sneaking up yet again on people, are we, Mama? Your stealing about the house like some ghoul is not appreciated."

  His mother came over to Iris, taking her hand. "I will not force you if you truly do not wish to marry my son, dear. When I saw you both kissing, I assumed it was as my son stated," she said, accentuating the word. "Is it not so? Do you not wish to marry the duke?"

  Iris met the duke's steely gaze, unsure what to say. In her dream world, she would marry the duke. Love him and care for him, have his children and all those wonderful things. But this was not her dream world. Their marriage would be cold with pockets of wild kisses and maybe nights too. But it would not be enough for her. She wanted her husband's heart, not a marriage born out of his honor and duty.

  "While I did kiss the duke, it was a spontaneous action that was brought on by too much wine at dinner. I like the duke as a friend, but the one kiss does not warrant marriage, surely," she beseeched them both, unsure if she was getting through.

  The duchess stared at them both, clearly torn. "Josh darling. Be honest with me. Had I not found you last evening, would you have proposed to Miss Cooper?"

  * * *

  Josh inwardly groaned, not wanting to answer that question at all. While he had not wanted to marry Iris, now that they were engaged, he'd warmed to the idea quite well.

  Certainly, no one else had made his blood pump fast in his veins, his body to ache as it had all night, tempting him to take himself in hand. He'd not felt like that in an age, and Iris had been the one to stir his ardor.

  "I would not have kissed her if I was not willing to accept any consequences of my actions."

  Iris's shoulders slumped, and disappointment shone in her bright-blue eyes. She had such pretty almond-shaped orbs, her dark hair up in a loose bunch of curls atop her head just begged to be let down, admired as it lay over her undressed form.

  He wanted to pull every pin from her locks, scatter them to the floor and run his hand through her hair. See it spread out over the pillows on his bed where he would make love to her until both their needs and wants w
ere satisfied.

  His determination to marry her doubled.

  His mother turned to Iris, taking her hands. "You see, my dear. The duke would like to marry you if you will have him. What say you?" his parent pressed, squeezing Iris's hands. "Will you become part of our family? I know I shall love to have you as a daughter-in-law."

  Iris met his eyes, and he could not tell what she was thinking, what she would say. Eventually, she sighed, just giving the smallest nod. "Very well, I shall marry the duke."

  She did not sound pleased, but he would change her mind about that. The next four weeks would be filled with balls and parties, all of which he could be near her, touch her, steal kisses from her whenever he wished.

  His lips twitched. The Season had just become a lot more interesting. In fact, he could not wait the several hours until tonight's Devonshire ball, where he could start introducing his future bride to the delights of the flesh.

  Chapter 15

  The duchess stood watching her son swoop his betrothed about the Devonshire ballroom. Iris appeared happy. Her bright eyes and adoring smile gave Sarah hope that their marriage would be as happy as her other children’s. Josh deserved to find love, for he had so much to give. He merely needed to find the right woman to bestow it upon.

  Her only child to remain unwed, and the family heir needed to marry, secure the line with a child and continue the proud Worthingham, Penworth name for another generation.

  "Good evening, Your Grace," Lady Sophie said, dipping into a curtsy before standing beside her.

  Sarah inclined her head in welcome. "Good evening, Lady Sophie. I did not know you were in attendance. Is your father here with you? I have not seen him about of late."

  "Oh, he's over there," she said, gesturing to the farther side of the room. "I came to congratulate you on the duke's engagement to Miss Cooper. How happy you must be."

  "I am very happy, yes," she said, relieved that her feelings on the forthcoming nuptials were genuine. In fact, she could hardly contain her excitement that her favorite friend would soon be related to her by marriage. Their children married. One could not hope for more.

  "I should like to make a match this year. If Miss Cooper can find love, I'm certain I can too, do you not think?"

  "Of course," the duchess replied, uncertain as to what Lady Sophie could mean by such words and not particularly wishing to know. Did she believe Iris to be beneath her? Surprised that she had found her match so quickly?

  "Being the age we both are, and Miss Cooper older than myself by several years, I should think she is of similar age to the duke. I do pray that she will be a good, abiding wife, give you many grandchildren."

  The duchess narrowed her eyes, pinning Lady Sophie with a hardened stare. "I do not see why she should not. Seven and twenty is not old, Lady Sophie."

  Lady Sophie's amused laugh rang false, and Sarah understood what this little tête-à-tête was about. The duchess had to stop herself from grinding her teeth.

  "I merely mention such a thing because if you remember, Lady Astley several years back married when she was seven and twenty and was unable to give the earl any children. Very sad," Lady Sophie said with a pout and considering glance at the duke and Miss Cooper, who twirled past them.

  "I do not think that will be the case with my son or future daughter-in-law, Lady Sophie," she stated, her tone hard but not cruel. "I shall let the duke and Miss Cooper know that you wish them well and happiness."

  Lady Sophie raised her glass of champagne, toasting the air. "Of course, I would appreciate that, Your Grace," she said.

  The duchess left her then, unsure she liked what Lady Sophie said or the reasons behind it. Not that she believed in any of the words spoken, but she was not fooled enough not to know that Lady Sophie had wanted to marry her son and was probably a little slighted that she had not landed him.

  But would she spread such rumors about Iris? Ensure the ton gossiped about Iris's age? Although a little older than most debutantes, Iris was certainly not over the hill and ready to be put to pasture.

  One thing she was thankful for was that it was not Lady Sophie who had been caught kissing the duke. Marriage to such a woman would have left her son regretting his choice, but the duchess could not see that happening with Iris.

  No, they were already friends and soon would be lovers. That solid base was enough to weld a solid foundation for a happy future.

  An unbreakable bond of love.

  * * *

  Iris had lost count of how many people she had greeted and thanked during the ball. Her betrothal to the duke had increased her popularity tenfold. Women who had not spoken to her all Season were now flocking to her side.

  She supposed she was no longer competition and was now suitable enough to be associated with. That she would soon be a duchess did not hurt her chances of friendship either.

  All but one woman came up to them. Lady Sophie. The one lady who had reached out the hand of friendship to her not a week past was now distant.

  Why she would react in such a cold way to the news of her betrothal, she could only come to one conclusion. That lady had wanted the duke for herself. Was put out that a woman such as Iris had been the one he proposed to.

  If only Lady Sophie knew the truth of it all. Not that their union was a love match, far from it. He'd merely made the mistake of kissing her and had been caught. Had he not been so forward, they would never have married.

  The knowledge left her cold, and she thrust the depressing realization aside, set on enjoying her waltz with her husband-to-be. In just one month she would be the Duchess of Penworth. No one would look upon her with pity after the fact.

  At least she had the duke to thank for that. Her scar on her temple ignored, and her injured leg and resulting limp no longer signifying a remark or sympathizing glance. Not as a duchess. The name would protect her from snide remarks or such looks, one thing she hated most when in society.

  "You appear quite lost in thought, Iris. Care to share what you are thinking of?" the duke asked, an amused light in his eyes.

  Iris saw no reason not to be truthful. "I was thinking about how your name will protect me from those who would wish to remind me of my faults. My scars, both physical and visual, for one thing. I will no longer have to endure any comments or sad, pouty faces when they happen to notice it."

  The duke visibly paled, and Iris pulled him promptly to the side of the room. "Your Grace? Are you unwell?" she asked him, hoping he was not coming down with some malady or some such ailment.

  He gestured for a footman and snatched a glass of champagne, downing it. What on earth had come over him that he appeared so out of sorts?

  "It is nothing. Come," he said, pulling her through the throng of guests and out of the ballroom. He led her down a deserted passage somewhere in the bowels of Devonshire House.

  They passed room after darkened room, the muffled sound of the ball a distant hum. The noise of a door shutting farther along the hall made her gasp, and the duke pulled her into a closet, shutting the door not long before the tap of shoes sounded nearby.

  She could make out his features by a small window high in the room, and she could see that he was smiling, waiting for whoever was outside to leave.

  "Even betrothed, I should not be alone in here with you." His whispered words made her stomach flutter, her heart thumped hard in her chest. He smelled delicious, as fresh as lemon verbena. She wanted his touch on her skin, wanted him to close the small space between them and show her again what it was like to be in his arms.

  Kissed with abandonment but without interruption.

  The last few days, she had thought of what would have happened had the dowager not found them.

  She shivered and then gasped as he clasped her hip, walking her back until she came up hard against the wall.

  "Our last kiss was interrupted," he said, tipping her chin up with his finger. "This one will not be."

  Her breath came in short pants. Iris ran her fingers atop
his superfine coat, clasping the lapels of his jacket and pulling him toward her. There was no point in playing coy. She wasn't the type of woman to pretend she did not want what he offered. She had dreamed of being his wife, and soon she would be. There was no harm in taking what he offered and enjoying every decadent, delicious moment of his touch.

  His mouth. On hers. His warmth enveloping and consuming her all at once.

  He dipped his head, and she ached for the kiss to commence.

  Oh yes, being his duchess would be no challenge, no heartache at all.

  Chapter 16

  Iris felt willing and warm under his touch, and he wanted to touch her. Everywhere he could and before he made her his legally before God. His body burned to eliminate her words that had spiked so much guilt within him only minutes ago on the ballroom floor. His only thought had been removing them from the room and having her in his arms where no past regrets rose to haunt him.

  It had been too long since he'd held her. Their last kiss, as short and sweet as it had been, had left him wanting more, and he'd not been able to distract himself. Not with riding, walking, visiting his club—nothing cured his need to be around her.

  His response and mood had been odd and vexing.

  But now, with Iris back in his grip, he understood why he'd been feeling so off. He lusted after his future bride. The next weeks would be arduous indeed, but then, once they were married, he could enjoy her, bring her to such heights that she would lust after him every minute of every day too.

  Her tongue swept against his, her kiss as frantic and commanding as his own. His hands were everywhere, the silk of her gown no impediment to his need.

  He wanted to feel all of her, tease and love her as she deserved.

  "We should not be in here. What if someone catches us again?"

  Josh reached back, snipping the lock on the door. "That will keep anyone at bay."

  She threw him a dubious look. "What makes you think they will not simply wait outside until we leave, and then we shall have to answer for our actions."