A Scandalous Pursuit

by Ava Stone

  And now she was supposed to go to his room!

  She stopped her pacing and stared at her reflection in the cheval mirror in the corner of the room. What did one wear to such a meeting? After all, she’d told Caroline she wasn’t feeling well. If she was spotted in the same gown she’d worn at dinner, suspicions would be raised. And she couldn’t wear a nightrail and robe to visit the wicked duke. The last thing she needed was to appear in such an ensemble in front of him.

  After several different clothing scenarios filtered through her mind, Livvie finally decided to wear her robe over her elegant evening gown. If anyone saw her in the hallway, she could say she’d gone in search of the library and a book to fall asleep to. Then once she was in Kelfield’s room she would be properly garbed in something much more appropriate than a nightrail.

  She sat on pins and needles for what seemed several hours, though it couldn’t really have been that long, until she felt certain that everyone else had retired. Finally, she snuffed out the candle in her room, took a steadying breath, and then stealthily began the path that led to Kelfield’s door.

  Livvie looked over her shoulder as she turned down the final corridor, making sure that no one saw her. When she came to Kelfield’s room, she glanced around one last time then pushed open his door and snuck inside, her heart pounding viciously in her chest.

  The duke, who was reclining on his bed with a book and a pair of spectacles, quirked one black eyebrow upwards at her entrance. “I take it the coast is clear.”

  “Oh, shush,” she hissed, undoing her robe and throwing it at his head.

  He caught the silk wrapper and laughed, a rich sound that sent shivers down Livvie’s spine. She wished her heart would return to its normal pace and that he wasn’t quite so handsome in his shirt sleeves and form-fitting trousers. The image brought back to mind his splendid, naked form she had admired earlier in the day, stinging her cheeks with a blush. “You’re the one who forced me to come here in the first place.”

  He removed his wire-rimmed glasses, stood up, and made his way to a small sideboard, where he poured a healthy amount of wine into a goblet. Then he lazily crossed the room, offering the cup to her. “Here, sweetheart.”

  Was it poisoned? Ridiculous as that seemed, she didn’t trust him at all. Livvie shook her head. “No, thank you.”

  The duke pushed the goblet into her hands with a rakish grin. “Go on, Olivia. It will help calm your nerves.”

  No, it wasn’t poisoned. He wouldn’t kill her. He planned to disgrace her instead, she was certain. Hating him, she took a long sip of the wine and glared at him over the goblet.

  “Not all in one gulp, sweetheart.”

  Her glare darkened.

  She had abided by his requests… Well, she hadn’t yet called him Alex. But she had come to his room. He hadn’t demanded any more of her than that. Livvie lowered the goblet and shook her head. “I will not share your bed.”

  His handsome face broke out into a wide grin. “Good God, Olivia. Still worried about your virtue? I swear to you, I’ve never had to force a woman into my bed.”

  Well, what did he want with her then? Why blackmail her into coming to his room in the first place? They could talk somewhere else. In the middle of the day, with witnesses about. “Indeed?” she asked skeptically.

  “On my honor,” he answered as he gestured to one of the room’s two chintz chairs. “Every one of them has come willingly.”

  On his honor? Was he serious? She knew all about him, and there wasn’t an honorable bone in his body. He had the unfortunate habit of seducing other men’s wives, and had even installed the wife of a vicar in his Mayfair home for some time. Nearly a decade earlier, he had started a very scandalous Hell-Fire Club, leaving the better half of Town in an uproar. He haunted the theatre and had taken several different actresses as his mistresses at one time or another. And he had fathered dozens of children out of wedlock—everyone knew that. She didn’t trust his honor. Not as far as she could throw him.

  “Please—” he gestured again— “sit down, Olivia.”

  She heaved a sigh and sat, then sipped her wine, staring at him over the rim. After flashing her a seductive smile, Kelfield took the spot opposite her, his silver eyes twinkling. Then he cocked his head to one side, studying her. “Now, tell me, Olivia, who are you?”

  She nearly choked on her wine. It was certainly not what she expected him to say. “W-who am I?”

  “Hmm.” He nodded. “I admit you are a mystery to me.”

  She was a mystery to him? He thought about her? She would have never believed that. It was flattering in a strange sort of way. “There’s not much to tell…Alex.”

  At the use of his name, his smile widened. “My dear, you can’t tell me that. You’ve captivated my interest since we first met. I simply don’t believe that there is nothing to tell.”

  A gurgled laugh escaped her throat. “Captivated you? Honestly, Your Gr…Alex, you are unkind to toy with me. I know very well that you dislike me. You haven’t made much of a secret of it.”

  He frowned at her and his eyes darkened to a deep gray. “You think I dislike you?”

  Livvie chewed her bottom lip. He didn’t seem terribly happy anymore. She nodded once.

  “I don’t know what gave you that idea, but I do like you. Far better than I should.”

  “You do?”

  His brow rose and his sinful smile returned to his lips. “Today, when you were hiding in here, the things you saw… Did your temperature rise? Did you imagine that it was you I was kissing? You I was touching?”

  She couldn’t believe he asked her that! Of all the inappropriate things to say! But most disturbingly—how did he know? She shook her head, admitting nothing. “Of course not!”

  With a chuckle, he shrugged. “Pity. Because it was you I was imagining, Olivia.”

  Her mouth fell open and she blinked at him, unsure if she’d heard him correctly.

  “Since we first met, I have wanted to touch you. Taste you. But you were the forbidden fruit—under Staveley’s care. Off limits for me.”

  “Oh,” was all she could manage. Her temperature was certainly starting to rise now. She stared at him, looking so devastatingly handsome, like a Greek God, and her breath rushed out of her.

  After a moment, he leaned back in his chair, though his seductive smile remained firmly in place. “So, humor me, sweetheart. Who are you?”

  Livvie took another sip of wine, grateful now that he’d forced the drink on her. When she lowered the goblet, his eyes were still on her. “I…um… Well, I am from Papplewick,” she nervously blurted out, as if it was supposed to mean something. She sounded like a fool, she was certain.

  “Nottinghamshire?”

  No one ever knew where Papplewick was, and Livvie smiled. “Yes. You’ve not been there?” She would have heard if the wicked Duke of Kelfield had entered the village. The news would have been on everyone’s tongues.

  “No,” he admitted. “I simply know my geography. It’s required of all dukes, you know.”

  Another laugh escaped Livvie and she shook her head. “No, I had no idea it was a requirement. I do hope Prinny doesn’t discover that the young Duke of Prestwick couldn’t find Papplewick on a map.”

  A charming smile lit up his face, and Livvie’s heart beat faster. It was such a shame the man was so handsome, so wicked, and so arrogant. And it was a dreadful shame that merely sitting across from him made Livvie’s belly feel all fluttery.

  “Poor Prestwick. I promise not to reveal his secret. Though he is just a boy. I’m certain Prinny wouldn’t strip the child of his title. Not yet anyway.”

  “I’m relieved to hear it.”

  “So, you’re from Papplewick? Small village.”

  Livvie grinned, starting to feel more at ease in his presence. “Indeed. However, there were plenty of amusements to keep my interest.”

  “Such as?” he asked with a raised brow.

  “Sherwood Forest for one.” Li
vvie sighed as memories from her childhood rushed into her mind. “Cordie and I would take turns playing Maid Marion, while Philip, Russell, Tristan, and Gregory would act out the roles of Robin Hood, The Sheriff, Prince John and Little John. We’d play for hours.”

  “Philip?” the duke asked, his smile having vanished. “Your Major Moore?”

  Livvie immediately sobered up and nodded. “Yes. I’ve known Philip all my life.”

  Kelfield seemed to make note of that and then he edged forward in his chair. “And Cordie? Do you mean Miss Avery?”

  Livvie’s smile returned to her face. “The Averys were our closest neighbors. Cordelia and I have grown up together. We went off to girls’ school together, and we enjoyed our come out seasons together.” Then she laughed, thinking about all their wonderful times. It was a good thing they were such good friends, since their parents always forced them together. Life would have been very different if they’d not gotten along. “Cordie is the youngest of five, and I’m an only child. But I never lacked for sibling interactions. Her brothers Gregory, Russell, and Tristan always treated me as if I was another little sister. Do you have any siblings, Alex?”

  Probably. Just none that he knew of. Besides, Alex didn’t want to think about his familial relations, let alone speak of them. He shook his head. “No.”

  In the reflection of the candlelight, Olivia’s eyes danced as she spoke of her childhood. Games that she, the Avery children, and that damned Philip Moore had played together. She was enchanting. There was a little lilt to her voice as she spoke about her past, and the dimple in her left cheek was more pronounced.

  Alex longed to brush his hand across her cheek, taste that dimple with his tongue. The longer he sat with her, the more certain he was that she would make him a splendid duchess in so many ways.

  This wasn’t the path he’d ever supposed he would take, forced into marriage, but since circumstances had conspired against him, he was very fortunate Olivia had been the one hiding in his wardrobe and not one of her silly friends. Life with any of the others would have been unbearable, but with Olivia…well, with her he was looking forward to their future.

  As she relaxed and opened up, time flew by. He learned all sorts of things about his future bride. She enjoyed the pianoforte, but was abysmal with watercolors—or so her childhood governess had informed her. She did reasonably well with history, but was not terribly proficient with a needle and thread. “All thumbs,” she’d said. She loved horses, but was afraid of dogs. “I was simply terrified,” she confessed. “If Philip hadn’t been there, I’m certain the hound would have torn me to shreds—”

  A look of devotion crossed her face as she spoke of Philip Moore, and Alex felt a stab of jealousy. Damn the man for knowing her as a child. It wasn’t fair to the rest of the population as a whole or to him individually.

  “The thing was rabid,” she went on to explain, “and it had to be put down. And I know it’s silly, but I’ve never conquered my fear of dogs since. It is the one thing that makes life at Staveley House difficult.”

  That’s right. Staveley’s son had a small beagle. Whenever Alex would visit, the blasted dog would try to make a snack of his boots. “Nelson?” he asked.

  She nodded her head. “I know he’s just a little fellow, and it is silly. I know it is. But that dog absolutely terrifies me.”

  Alex made a note to keep every hound he owned locked securely in his kennels. In his home, she’d fear nothing and he’d always keep her safe. Major Moore’s services were not needed.

  Olivia covered a yawn with her delicate hand. “Alex, it is very late. May I please return to my room?”

  He rose and offered her his hand. When she touched him, desire shot straight to his groin. He was even more enchanted with Olivia Danbury than he had been when the evening began. “Indeed. It is late.”

  He led her towards the door and then stopped. He’d meant only to learn about her this evening, but now he needed a kiss. Just one, to make his dreams bearable. Alex, slid his arm around Olivia’s waist and anchored her to him, holding her lithe body pressed against his. “Has the esteemed Major Moore ever kissed you, sweetheart?” he whispered.

  Surprise reflected in her hazel eyes, then she shook her head, pushing gently at his chest. “That’s not really your concern, Alex.”

  “Has he?”

  Olivia met his eyes and then nodded. “Of course.”

  “And was it good?” he asked softly, though he knew she could hear him clearly.

  “I-I,” she stammered, swallowing nervously.

  “Did his kiss make your toes curl, Olivia? Did it make you ache for his touch? Or was it a very chaste kiss from a very chaste man?”

  Even in the darkened room, Alex could see a blush creep up her lovely neck. “I think,” he whispered across her lips, “that before you marry Moore or anyone else, you should be properly kissed at least once.”

  Then he slowly pressed his lips to hers. She trembled in his arms, and Alex silently celebrated when a soft moan escaped her throat. He nibbled at her bottom lip, coaxing her to open for him. When she did, his tongue slid inside the heaven of her mouth, flicking against her tongue.

  She tasted better than he’d imagined, like sweet wine and innocence. Her soft lilac scent tickled at his nose, and he was lost to her.

  When she moaned a little louder, more urgently, her hands slid up his chest, searing him until they settled on his shoulders. Alex deepened his kiss, hoping to assuage the need she stoked in him, wanting to breathe her in and never let her go. He splayed his hand across her back, molding her against him, and when her tongue softly touched his bottom lip, he thought his cock would burst right out of his trousers.

  Olivia twirled the hair at the base of his neck around her finger, panting as Alex delved back inside her mouth. He could take her now, make her his in every way. But he’d told her that her virtue would be safe, at least for tonight. However, she’d be a lot easier to walk away from if her tongue didn’t dance so seductively with his.

  Alex moved his hands to her shoulders and eased her away from him. Her eyes flickered open and she stared at him in complete shock, which did quite a nice thing for his confidence. He smiled and caressed her bottom lip with the pad of his finger. “I don’t think I can let you marry Major Moore, sweetheart.”

  She stumbled backwards and shook her head. “This…I…i-it was a mistake.”

  But it didn’t feel like a mistake, not to either of them—he could see it in her eyes. Alex took a step towards her, but she backed away, shaking her head. “Stay where you are.” Then she edged towards the door, turned the knob, and bolted.

  It was for the best. For now, anyway. He was going to marry the girl. Despite her eager kiss, it was obvious that she was innocent. Alex planned to keep her that way until their wedding night. He could only go so far until then, or at least until she agreed to marry him—his resolve was only so strong where she was concerned.

  He turned back to his bed and smiled. There on his pillow was her discarded, frilly pink robe that she’d thrown at him. Alex brought the soft silk wrapper up to his nose and inhaled. Lilacs. He closed his eyes and smiled to himself.

  When Livvie made it back to her room, her heart was nearly pounding out of her chest. She had no idea what in the world had come over her. Never in her life had she pressed herself against a man like a wanton. Not once. Not even with Philip, whose soft kisses had never affected her the way Alex’s heated one had.

  As soon as his lips touched hers, a frisson of desire race through Livvie, finally settling low in her belly, pooling inside her. Just thinking about it had the same affect on her now.

  He was addictive. That was the only explanation. He must have that affect on most women, if even half the tales about him were true—which she now believed wholeheartedly. The man knew how to kiss and touch and turn her brain to complete mush.

  There was only one thing to do. She needed to stay as far away from him as possible. She couldn’t trust hers
elf around him. That was abundantly clear. So she needed to keep the temptation of him at a safe distance. Australia seemed a fair distance. And she needed to get him off her mind or she’d never get to sleep. She began to recite old nursery rhymes over and over to keep him from planting himself in her thoughts.

  Olivia threw off her dress and slipped under her bed linens. But when she closed her eyes, she could feel him holding her captive in his strong arms, inhaling his breath.

  Then out of nowhere the memory of the maid popped into her mind and she squirmed unconsciously. Alex had kissed the woman’s bare breast, but he’d thought of her. She desperately wanted to know if having his mouth on her would feel as heavenly as she imagined.

  She recited more nursery rhymes, and prayed that slumber would somehow find her.

  Alex rose early. After another uncomfortable slumber filled with nightmares of his past, he was eager to start the day and wipe them from his mind. The dreams hadn’t come to him in years, but ever since he’d arrived at Prestwick Chase they had returned full-force to torment him. Perhaps it was because the estate reminded him of Everett Place. Not that the reason mattered. They’d stay with him until they left again, his dark memories haunting him in the dead of night. His midnight conversation with Olivia had been his only respite.

  After a bath and his morning ablutions, he opened his wardrobe and his eyes fell to his midnight blue waistcoat—the one missing a gold button—and he smiled to himself. He ought to make Olivia return to his room to sew the button back on. Then he remembered her saying she was all thumbs when it came to needles and thread. There was no point in destroying a perfectly good waistcoat. He’d just have to think of something else.

  He quickly dressed in a pair of buff doeskin breeches, a crisp white linen shirt, and a chocolate brown jacket. Then he strode to the breakfast room. Once there, he found Staveley and Caroline just finishing their meal. The sight of this particular duo put a bit of damper on his exuberance. He would have to be careful how he went about in front of them. “Good morning,” he drawled.