The Irish Duke

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The Irish Duke Page 29

by Virginia Henley


  As they glided from the boathouse into the lake, he tracked a straight course without turning around to see where he was going. When he felt the hot sun on his shoulders, he removed his shirt. “If you like, I’ll take us through all three lakes.”

  Lu gazed at his naked chest and rippling muscles. “Yes, I do like.”

  “Rowing is great exercise, but it’s also good for the mind. The rhythm of the strokes brings a sense of peacefulness and lets you become one with your surroundings.”

  Louisa sighed with pleasure as his long, slow strokes carried them smoothly down the lake. She noticed the shape of his strong hands on the oars and saw that he dropped his wrists at the end of each stroke, feathering the spoon-shaped oars so they glided over the surface. Rowing was second nature to him, and his technique wasted little energy.

  “Careful, there are ducks behind you.” She heaved a sigh of relief as they glided past the boat without so much as a ruffled feather.

  “Those are tufted ducks. We call them tufties; they stay all year round.”

  “Oh, they have babies . . . how sweet.”

  “Everything has babies at this time of year. It is the order of nature.”

  Louisa looked down into the crystal clear water and saw that it was teeming with hatchling fishes. When James rowed into the second lake, it was populated with swans.

  “You are right, James. The swans are so majestic. I cannot believe how tiny their cygnets are. They look like little balls of gray fluff.”

  “Before summer is over, they’ll develop brown feathers. They don’t start to get white plumage until their second year.”

  “You are a true nature lover. It makes me happy that you are not a hunter.”

  Like every other male in nature I’m hunting for a mate, and I have sighted my quarry, Lady Lu.

  When they reached the far end of the third lake, James turned the rowboat.

  “Don’t you need a rest?” she asked with surprise.

  “None of the lakes is more than a mile and a half in length. Both ways adds up to less than eight miles.”

  She laughed. “And I suppose you could row that far with one arm tied behind you?”

  He grinned. “Of course not—we’d go in circles.”

  As she watched his powerful arms, she was reminded of the dream she’d had last night. He held me in those arms and it made me feel beautiful and desirable. She lowered her lashes in a deliberate attempt to protect herself from the irresistible lure of the attractive devil. But even though she couldn’t see him, she felt the mesmerizing rhythm of his strokes and heard the enticing splash of the water. Her heartbeat took on the same exciting tempo as his compelling nearness threatened to overwhelm her.

  When she glanced up and saw the boathouse, it broke the spell that held her in thrall.

  James guided the boat inside, jumped out, and tied it securely. Then he reached out to help her alight. When she placed her hand in his with complete trust, he knew that half the battle was won. He picked up his shirt but didn’t put it on.

  The sun was high in the sky as he walked beneath the shade tree to retrieve lunch from his saddlebags. “I worked up an appetite. Are you hungry?”

  “That all depends on what you have to offer, my lord.”

  James smiled a secret smile. “You choose the spot—sun or shade?”

  “Sun . . . and let’s go closer to the water.”

  He spread his silk shirt on the grass to protect her dress. When she sat down, he knelt and unwrapped a huge linen napkin to reveal crusty whole wheaten bread and soft homemade cheese. There was a string of spicy dried sausages and two russet apples. “It’s peasant fare, unlikely to tempt a lady.”

  “It looks good to me. But then my tastes are not too refined.”

  “That’s encouraging,” he teased. “Perhaps I still stand a chance.”

  She ignored his beguiling words but could not close her eyes to the fact that he was wooing her. Louisa helped herself to some bread and cheese. “This is delicious.”

  James poured them each a cup of blackberry wine. “I promise this isn’t as strong as poteen.” He bit down on a spicy sausage. “Try one of these.” When she looked skeptical, he goaded her. “You have to be adventurous to eat an Irish sausage. God knows what unthinkable porcine parts they put in it.”

  She took one immediately. “I’m adventurous. I’ll try anything once.”

  His eyes were alight with mischief. “I’ll hold you to that.”

  “Cheeky Irish sod!” When she finished the sausage, she licked her fingers and picked up an apple.

  His eyes never left her face as she bit into it with gusto, and laughed when the juice ran down her chin. When she finished, she stood up and tossed the core into the trees. “The deer will eat it. They enjoy apples.”

  He reached into the napkin and pulled out something wrapped in tissue paper. He undid it and held out his hand. In the center of his palm sat a sugared mouse.

  “Oh, James!” She went down on her knees and touched it with her finger. The love token had totally disarmed her. She took it to her mouth and licked it.

  “Swatemate,” he murmured, his eyes on her lips.

  She knew he was not referring to the mouse. I’m his swatemate.

  He picked up his apple and lay back in the grass, enjoying the feel of the sun on his bare chest. When he finished it, he closed his eyes.

  She stole a glance at him, and when she saw his dark lashes resting on his cheeks, she gathered the courage to allow her eyes to roam over his naked torso. His tanned skin stretched tautly over wide shoulders and the rippling muscles of his powerful chest. Once again her dream came back to her and she remembered exactly how it felt to be enclosed in his embrace and pressed to his heart. She felt drawn to him by an invisible force that was so compelling it was impossible to resist. Stealthily, she moved closer. She could smell his sun-warmed skin and see the faint shadow of his beard along his jaw. She reached out her fingers to touch the crisp black hair that curled on his chest.

  Her hand stopped midair. Words he had said to her in the library at Woburn came back to her: Your jasmine stole to me some time ago. She knew he would be able to smell her perfume. Don’t play with fire, Louisa. She moved away from him cautiously, silently. Then she stood up and walked to the water’s edge, putting a safe distance between them.

  Ten minutes later, James sat up. He had been fully aware of Louisa’s close proximity and her desire to touch him. He silently rejoiced and hugged the secret knowledge to himself. “Are you ready to swim?” he called.

  She hesitated. If she backed out she knew he would think she had lost her courage. Worse, she would consider herself a coward. “Of course I’m ready.”

  He tucked the remainder of their lunch into his saddlebags and pulled out a couple of towels. He joined her at the lake’s edge and removed his riding breeches. “Your turn.”

  She glanced at his linen undergarment, removed her dress, dropped it onto the grass, and waited for his reaction. He didn’t disappoint her. He staggered in shock and rolled his eyes. Instead of the petticoat he was expecting, she stood before him clad in white drawers decorated with crimson ruffles. Her tiny busk was adored with red ribbon.

  “If I’d known you were wearing such scandalous trappings beneath your prim and proper dress while I was rowing the boat, I would likely have capsized us.”

  His teasing made her laugh. “Don’t pretend to be shocked, Abercorn. You are the one who believes my undergarments are designed to be flaunted.”

  “You have extremely theatrical taste, Lady Lu. Are you ready for your water ballet?”

  She giggled as she took his outstretched hand and waded waist deep into the lake. “Ooh, it’s cold.”

  “A bit bracing when you first get wet, but you’ll soon get used to it. I think you should learn to float before you try to swim. Take a deep breath to fill your lungs with air, then lie back in the water. I’ll keep my arms underneath you so you won’t sink.”

  S
he did as he instructed her, splashing about whenever she felt insecure, but kept at it doggedly. Never once did James allow her to sink or let her nose and mouth go below the surface. Finally she gained enough confidence to put her head back and float on her own. “I did it!” she cried.

  “You certainly did. Take a bow, marchioness.”

  “Let me do it again. Stand over there and be ready to catch me if I sink.”

  She floated perfectly, and he applauded her performance. “You are ready for a swimming lesson. May I suggest the breast stroke?” He knew she had no idea that her white drawers were transparent in the water, so he made a valiant effort not to roll his eyes in appreciation.

  He placed his hand beneath her chin. “Keep one foot on the bottom and pretend you are swimming. When you’re ready, lift your leg and kick.”

  Louisa did it over and over, but each time she felt confident enough to lift her foot off the bottom, she began to sink. She feared her face would go under the water, but James supported her chin, never allowing her mouth or nose to dip beneath the surface.

  “Do you think I’ll ever do it?”

  “Of course you will. It won’t be long before you can swim from one side of the lake to the other. Before summer is over, we’ll be swimming with the otters.”

  “Oh, James, is that really possible?” She was so engrossed in their conversation about the otters that she lifted her leg and forgot to sink.

  “Sooner than you realize. You just swam at least a yard.”

  In her surprise and excitement she grabbed him and clung on to him as she almost dragged them both beneath the water. Then she laughed with the pure pleasure of her achievement. “Let me do it again. Don’t help me—just let me sink.”

  She walked about five feet away from him, then took a deep breath and stroked out toward him. He caught her in his arms and they laughed together. “I’m so clever!”

  “You are very brave,” he told her to bolster her confidence.

  “Clever and brave!” she crowed.

  “A lethal combination.” He put his hands on her bottom and pulled her toward him. “I quite like messing about in water.”

  She cupped her palm and splashed him until he removed his possessive hands to wipe the water from his eyes. Then laughing, she swam away from him. She did get water in her mouth and up her nose, but her fear was gone as she realized now that slipping underwater was no calamity.

  The pair played, laughed, and messed about for another hour until the heat went out of the afternoon. When Louisa emerged from the lake she was covered in gooseflesh.

  “I’m cold,” she said through chattering teeth.

  James picked up one of the towels and began to dry her. He rubbed her arms and back and moved down to her legs. “Take your wet things off and put on your dress.” He held up the towel and gallantly averted his eyes to give her a smidgen of privacy. When her gown was in place, he slipped on his riding breeches. He rolled up her wet undergarments in the damp towel.

  When he saw that she was still shivering, he wrapped the dry towel about her. He whistled for the horses and saddled them, but decided to take Louisa up before him for the ride home.

  She pulled the towel about her shoulders and cuddled up against her husband. His body heat seeped into her, making her feel warm and also protected from the cool breeze.

  They left the horses at the stable with a groom and ran to the house.

  He followed her upstairs and took the towel from her shoulders. “Let me dry your hair.”

  “I can do that.” He was still shirtless and, because she was determined to avoid further intimacy, she escaped into her boudoir.

  James donned a shirt and dry breeches, then opened the adjoining door between their bedchambers. He saw that she was wearing a robe and had wrapped a towel about her head. “I have an idea. Why don’t I light us a peat fire, and we can have our dinner up here where we will be warm and cozy?”

  Lu hesitated, but the lure of a fire was extremely tempting. The only reason I learned to swim is because I trusted him. James kept his promise. If I join him in the master bedroom, can I trust him not to violate our agreement? She decided to be bold and take a chance. “Will you teach me how to light a peat fire?”

  She knelt at the hearth and James handed her a piece of newspaper. She scrunched it up and put it in the grate. He pointed to a box. “Make a pyramid with the applewood twigs.” He brought over an oil lamp and handed her a taper.

  Louisa touched the lit taper to the twigs, and the scent of apples filled the air as they ignited. James pointed to the brass peat bucket, and she quickly piled the pieces of turf around the lighted wood. Then she sat back on her heels and held her breath.

  When the pretty blue peat smoke began to spiral up the chimney, she gave him a triumphant smile. She pulled the towel from her hair to wipe her hands and a profusion of damp dark tendrils fell about her shoulders.

  They dined in front of the fire and talked about the day’s adventures, which were all new and fascinating to Louisa. Because she took pleasure in observing the wildlife on the estate, he promised to show her the place where a sett of badgers made their burrow in the woods.

  After dinner they played chess. “Lady Lu, I do believe you are cheating!”

  “All my brothers and sisters cheat when we play games.”

  “I warrant you are shrewd enough to win without stooping to deceit.”

  She was flattered at his confidence and agreed to play again without subterfuge. She lost, of course, and playfully tipped the board, scattering the chess pieces. Louisa spied a bowl of chestnuts and took a long-handled copper pan from the wall. They knelt by the hearth to roast the chestnuts and then stretched out on the rug to enjoy them.

  James peeled them and fed them to Louisa.

  They talked and laughed until Lu began to yawn. He watched her in silent enjoyment. Her hair had dried in a hundred tiny ringlets that lured him to reach out and play among the curls. The tendrils spiraled around his fingers, clinging to him of their own volition, and he marveled at their silky, seductive texture. When he moved closer to take her in his arms, he saw that she had fallen asleep.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The early morning sun awakened Louisa because her drapes had never been closed. Any minute, Abercorn will come in and do his usual. He will throw off my covers and drag me out of bed. A mischievous thought began to bubble. Turnabout is fair play!

  She arose, put on her robe, and slipped quietly into the adjoining room. She tiptoed to the bed and yanked off his covers. She gasped when she saw that James was stark naked.

  He opened his eyes and began to laugh at the look of shock on her face. Then he gave her back her own words: “Since you are the one who pulled off my covers, you are the villain in this game. So suffer away, Lady Bloody Abercorn.”

  She turned her back and hurried to the window. “Make yourself decent.” A movement in the grass caught her attention. “There are foxes playing on the lawn!”

  He came up behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. “They are often here at sunrise.” He grinned when he felt her stiffen. “See what delights of nature you’re missing when you shun this bedroom?”

  “I prefer to avoid your natural delights. You are indecent!”

  “I must confess that from time to time, I am indecent.” He bent his head and whispered in her ear, “Indacent.” He moved back from the window. “The carpenters will be hammering again today, so I thought I’d take you to meet all our tenants.”

  Lu twirled around. “Oh, that would be . . .” Her eyes widened at the sight of his naked body. “Lovely,” she finished.

  “Why, thank you,” he teased, anticipating her pretty blush.

  I’ll be damned if I’ll avert my eyes. “What will you do when I am all blushed out?”

  He grinned. “Resort to even more indacent antics, I suppose.”

  “You don’t think this riding habit is too fancy for visiting your tenants, do you?”

&nbs
p; His appreciative glance swept over her. “You are the lady of the manor. They won’t expect to see you in sackcloth and ashes. You can’t go wrong with green in Ireland.”

  As the newly wedded pair visited each tenant farm, the scene was the same. The children, especially the boys, eagerly gathered about James. Louisa was impressed that he knew most of their names. It was brought home to her how much Abercorn liked children, and vice versa.

  While James spoke with the men, conversing knowledgeably about the livestock and the crops, the women greeted their lord’s new lady and wished her happiness. They offered her homemade small beer and whatever they were baking. She inspected their herb gardens and asked them to send some cuttings up to the manor, so she could plant her own. Louisa praised their homemaking skills and complimented their children. She was impressed to learn that every morning, for a few hours, the children gathered to learn how to read and write.

  After they had visited the tenant farms and the home farm, James wanted to show her one of his pet projects. “If you are up to a ten-mile ride, there’s something I’d like to show you. Not all my tenants are farmers.”

  “That sounds intriguing. I’d love to go.”

  As a large stone building came into view, James explained, “It was an old gristmill. Last year I had the whole thing rebuilt into a spinning mill for flax. The Herdman brothers did all the work. I bought the machinery and now the three of them run the mill for me.”

  Abercorn introduced his wife to three strapping young men—James, John, and George Herdman. George, the youngest, gave Lady Louisa a tour of the mill and explained the different processing stages that took place before the flax was spun onto large bobbins. She noticed that at least half the workers were female.

  When they were finished he escorted her to the office, where James, the eldest brother, and her husband were talking business.

  “The three of us have a burning ambition to own this mill, Lord Abercorn. But it will be years before we can meet your asking price.”

  “I have a suggestion,” Abercorn said thoughtfully. “Why don’t I lease it to you? You’ve done a damned good job here. The business is thriving and all your employees are happy. You could pay me a yearly rent and keep the flax profits.”

 

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