To Desire a Wicked Duke

by Nicole Jordan

  “Go on,” Rotham said evenly.

  With that small encouragement, Tess warmed to her theme. “You could give him a job cataloging your library, for instance. I know Bellacourt has a well-stocked library. Or perhaps you could utilize him to good purpose in your business dealings. As a clerk, Basil’s main duties were writing out fair copies of legal documents, but his talents were utterly wasted. Although he has more responsibility in his current secretarial position, he is capable and clever enough for so much more. He is also accomplished at ciphering and accounting. I believe he could prove a valuable asset to you.”

  When Rotham did not leap to agree, Tess hastened to add, “If you have no need of his services, I thought I might hire him to help manage the increasing contributions to my various organizations and the growing demands of arranging benefits and other charitable events … at a significantly increased salary, of course. But I don’t wish to offend his pride. The offer would be better received coming from you. If I were to ask him, Basil would likely consider it charity on my part and refuse. If you would allow it, we could say that with my new obligations as your duchess, I will be too busy to continue overseeing my former responsibilities in the necessary detail.”

  His gray eyes surveyed her. “You seem to have put some thought into this.”

  “Well, I only began forming a plan yesterday. You were mistaken earlier in the carriage. I was not stewing about our marriage. I was thinking about how to unite Fanny and Basil.”

  A devilish light entered Rotham’s eyes. “So you are set on playing matchmaker?”

  “What if I am?”

  “You know you cannot save everyone, sweetheart.”

  Tess gave him a quelling look. “Your cynicism is showing again, Rotham.”

  “As is your idealism. You want to be a champion for true love.”

  “I do indeed. I am determined to help my friends. Simply because I have lost any chance for love and happiness in marriage does not mean that Fanny must.”

  A muscle flexed in Rotham’s jaw, but he made no comment.

  Tess softened her tone. “Fanny has been extremely good to me. I owe her a debt for supporting me during the darkest period of my life, when I lost Richard so shortly after losing my mother.”

  She was not playing on Rotham’s sympathies unfairly, Tess thought defensively. It was true that Fanny had helped significantly to bring her back to life and diminish her sorrow.

  Rotham’s expression had turned enigmatic again, though, making Tess doubt that she was persuading him. Taking a breath, she tried a different tack.

  “If nothing else, I believe I can help Fanny become more respectable by offering her my patronage. Until now I have been compelled to avoid her in public. I have visited her home in St. John’s Wood upon occasion, but I had to do so in secret. Because of my charities, I could not afford to be seen with a former Cyprian. It was immensely frustrating.”

  “I imagine it was.”

  She shot him a suspicious look. “No doubt you find my predicament amusing. You have never had to curtail your friendships to protect your reputation. You have no reputation to speak of.”

  “Thankfully I have not.”

  Tess couldn’t tell if he was mocking her again. “I warn you, Rotham, even if you disapprove of my continued association with Fanny, I don’t mean to give up my friendship solely because I am now your duchess.”

  “I have no intention of dictating your choice of friends, sweeting.”

  She felt a tension inside her ease.

  “So you are set on making Fanny and her suitor one of your projects,” he prodded.

  “Yes. I may as well use my new position to help them.” Tess fell silent for a moment, contemplating her unwanted fate. As a duchess, she might also have more freedom to be her own mistress—at least if Rotham’s word could be trusted.

  Eventually a sigh escaped her. “I am becoming resigned to our union. You were right. There is little use crying over what cannot be changed.”

  “I suppose that is progress,” Rotham murmured in a dry undertone. “So what do you wish of me?”

  “I want your permission to invite Fanny to Falwell Castle. I will understand if you balk at inviting her into any of your main homes, which is your right. In fact, I thought of inviting Fanny to Bellacourt to keep me company here, but she advised against it. Yet allowing her to visit your remote castle in Cornwall is not the same thing. And it could be beneficial for Fanny.…”

  Once the main course of roasted pheasant and fricassee of venison was brought in, Tess told Rotham more about Fanny’s new career as a Gothic novelist.

  “And writing about the dungeon at Falwell would benefit her?” he asked.

  “Yes. Dungeons are excellent settings for Gothics, and haunted dungeons would be doubly exciting for Fanny’s readers. Falwell Castle is said to be haunted. Supposedly your servants have sighted the ghost of one of your late ancestors.”

  “Where did you hear that?”

  “Hennessy told me. He is interested in the spirit world and has investigated ghost sightings around England and Scotland. In fact, he based the play he wrote for Lady Wingate’s house party on his research. Is there any truth to the rumors about ghosts at Falwell?”

  “My steward has reported hearing ghosts there these past few months, but I haven’t had time to examine the matter yet.”

  Tess decided this was not the time to mention Hennessy’s desire to explore Falwell’s purported ghost, but Fanny’s need was another situation altogether. “Well, haunted or not, your castle could offer the perfect atmosphere for Fanny’s creative endeavors and perhaps provide material for her plots.”

  Tess couldn’t quite entirely read the gleam in Rotham’s eyes, but it seemed part amusement, part exasperation, and part admiration. “Very well, you have my permission to invite her.”

  “That isn’t all.… I want to go to Cornwall with her.”

  When Rotham’s eyebrow edged up again, Tess explained. “You know that Lady Wingate suggested we absent ourselves from London for a time in order to let the scandal subside. Well, if I must be exiled from society to dwell in purgatory, I prefer to do so in Cornwall rather than Richmond. Removing there has a prime advantage. I would not have to endure the gossips criticizing my every move, or Lady Wingate lamenting how my scandalous behavior has dismayed and disappointed her.”

  “There is that,” Rotham agreed blandly. “Would you expect me to accompany you?”

  “You needn’t bother,” Tess quickly replied. “You likely have no wish to visit Cornwall, so I will gladly go on my own—and take Fanny and Basil with me. I want them to have the opportunity to be together and fall in love.”

  “You seem to have it all plotted out.”

  “Not entirely, but I am working on it.”

  “If I fail to hire your friend Basil, will you make me into a villain?” Rotham queried, his tone not so much mocking as teasing.

  Tess smiled for the first time since beginning her tale. “I need no excuse to make you into a villain, Rotham.”

  “I suppose not. But you are asking a great deal, you know—demanding that I sink so low as to play Cupid with you.”

  Her smile widened a little. “I am certain I can manage without you, but I would prefer to have your assistance in hiring Basil. Will you help me?”

  He didn’t reply, but his gaze dropped to her mouth. At his continued silence, Tess pressed on. “You said that you regretted making me wed you, Rotham. If you want to make it up to me, you will accommodate this one small request. You have the resources to make a major difference in my friends’ lives, and I am asking you to intercede on their behalf.”

  Rotham leaned back in his chair, observing her over the rim of his wineglass. “Hiring your Mr. Eddowes shouldn’t be difficult,” he said finally, “although hiding the fact that we are in collusion might be trickier. And your traveling alone to Cornwall is another matter altogether. It is a two-day drive at minimum, even in a well-sprung post chaise when th
e roads are in good repair. I don’t know that I want you hazarding the trip.”

  Tess grimaced. “I have told you before, you needn’t concern yourself with my welfare.”

  “But I intend to. You are my wife now.”

  She sobered instantly at the reminder, which at last prompted a positive response from Rotham.

  “I will consider all your requests,” he said, surprising her, “if you will eat your dinner.” He looked pointedly at her plate. “You have barely touched your food tonight, and my cook went to a great deal of trouble to please you with your first meal at Bellacourt.”

  “Very well,” Tess said, feeling a trifle more optimistic. “I would not want to disappoint your cook.”

  Picking up her fork and knife, she applied herself to her pheasant while trying to forget that this was still her wedding night and that the worst still lay ahead.

  Fanny thinks I should be pleased that my husband is so attractive and reported to be highly skilled at lovemaking. Most women cannot say the same about their husbands or even their lovers. But I would be far happier were Rotham not so gallingly irresistible.

  —Diary Entry of Miss Tess Blanchard

  Ian kept his thoughts to himself during dinner as he watched Tess employ her persuasive tactics on him like a master. Her use of sweetly reasoned arguments to gain her way with him was new in his experience. He was more accustomed to deflecting ripostes from her tart tongue during their verbal jousts.

  Yet he couldn’t deny her appeal. Nor could he help noticing the way her lovely eyes brightened when she championed her friends. Her animation, her sheer passion for her causes, made Tess nearly irresistible. Even against his will Ian found himself wanting to agree to her proposition.

  In truth, he had little enthusiasm for traveling all that distance to Cornwall in the pursuit of a dubious love for individuals he didn’t even know. But he wouldn’t spoil his first married evening together with Tess by refusing her request out of hand.

  And she did have a point. There might be some advantages to removing themselves from London society for a time—most importantly, to a more intimate setting in which to become better acquainted with his bride. Cornwall would have fewer outside influences to interfere if he attempted to establish a new relationship with Tess.

  Ian felt the stir of wry amusement as he wondered if their marriage would always be a series of negotiations.

  He was not so amused, however, when after the footmen had served a dessert of fruit and cheese and were dismissed for the final time, Tess began eating even more slowly, obviously delaying the end of dinner.

  “What are your plans for your next charity benefit?” he asked, on the theory that encouraging her to talk about her philanthropic endeavors might take her mind off their forthcoming wedding night.

  Yet she seemed wise to his strategy. “If you mean to distract me, it will not help.”

  She relaxed a little when he changed the subject to discuss the servant staff at Bellacourt and her expected role as mistress here, but Tess visibly stiffened when he eventually announced that it was time to retire.

  “Must we?” she asked, her tension returning.

  “We are newlyweds and should act the part. Couples in love would not tarry at the dining table.”

  When she fidgeted with her wineglass, Ian decided he’d had enough of her trepidation.

  “For appearance’s sake, Tess, we must share the same bedchamber tonight, but we needn’t consummate our union just yet. If it will ease your mind, I won’t make any connubial demands until you are ready.”

  She searched his face, looking cautiously hopeful for a moment … then nodded in relief, as if she believed his offer to postpone carnal relations. “I would much prefer to wait.”

  Taking a fortifying swallow of wine then, she added more firmly, “It may be a long while until I am ready. And you should know that after the consummation, I don’t intend to share a marital bed with you. You said we could live separate lives, and I mean to hold you to your promise.”

  “If that is what you want.”

  “I do.”

  Ian watched Tess over his own wineglass. He could easily take her declaration as a challenge. Her reticence both annoyed him and pricked his vanity, inspiring a fundamental male instinct to prove his worth as a lover.

  His rational side, however, debated with his natural impulses. There was no question that he wanted Tess in his bed—tonight and every night—but it would be far easier to keep his distance from her if he treated their marriage strictly as a legal contract, just as she wished to do.

  On the other hand, arousing Tess might be the quickest means of overcoming her fear of him. He was confident he could change her mind about sharing a nuptial bed once she understood the kind of pleasure he could give her.

  Ian took a swallow of his own wine. It was ironic that he would have to woo his own bride. He’d never had to exert himself to win any lover he wanted. Women never refused him; indeed, they practically threw themselves at him. And to his knowledge, he had never instilled sexual fear in any of them.

  Then again, Tess was utterly unique, he reminded himself. And provoking her was still the most effective means of arming himself against her.

  “I am prepared to be patient for a time,” he deliberately drawled in that lazy tone that never failed to rile her. “But I trust you realize such forbearance reflects estimable gallantry on my part.”

  Her gaze narrowed on him.

  “I should also point out that you will miss out on an exceptional experience if we don’t become lovers.”

  Her chin lifting, she stared at him. “It amazes me,” she finally said, “that entire minutes can pass before I am reminded how insufferably arrogant you are.”

  Ian bit back a smile. “You will turn my head with all your pretty compliments.”

  “Adding to your conceit was not my intention, believe me.”

  Instead of retorting, he stood and moved behind Tess to pull out her chair for her, bending to murmur in her ear.

  “I’ve had no complaints about my lovemaking, sweetheart. But since you profess to have little knowledge of passion, I suppose you can be excused for your naïveté.”

  “I will forgo the pleasure of ending my naïveté, thank you,” Tess snapped, rising to her feet.

  His taunting had served to distract her, Ian decided as they climbed the sweeping staircase together. Yet he was somewhat distracted himself.

  Tess did have a disconcerting way of keeping him off balance. Her earlier discussion of mistresses, for instance. Her implication that he would so easily commit adultery had stung him. He wouldn’t deny that he’d had several mistresses in the past—and more liaisons than he ought. But he’d never been intimate with a married woman. He drew the line at cuckolding another unwitting chap as his illustrious father had been so fond of doing.

  And he would never be so liberal where his own wife was concerned, even discounting the fierce possessiveness Tess kindled in him. He was not about to let her give her body to any other man, certainly not now that she was his. They were joined in holy matrimony now and he intended for both of them to honor their vows.

  It would require a Herculean effort, though, to sleep in the same bedchamber with Tess and restrain his desire for her. But for both their sakes, Ian pledged, he meant to try. For now he would keep his hands off her if it killed him.

  When at last he escorted her up to the ducal apartments and closed his bedchamber door behind them, he saw Tess’s nerves visibly return. The suite was quite large, but Ian suspected it felt too small to her, having to be alone with him.

  He noted how her gaze swept the room. The furnishings were done in burgundy and golds, with a massive four-poster canopied bed dominating one side. The covers were drawn down and someone—presumably her maid—had laid out her nightdress and dressing gown on the bed.

  Despite the welcome fire in the hearth that took away any chill, Tess shivered, evidently still unsettled at the necessity of having
to sleep with him.

  “Do you need my help undressing?” he asked, keeping his tone placid.

  “I can manage.”

  “The dressing room is beyond that door.” He gestured toward the far side of the bedchamber.

  Tess hesitated. “It occurs to me that we needn’t share a bed at all, even to keep up appearances.”

  “Where do you propose sleeping then?” When she had no answer, he relented. “There is a chaise longue in the sitting room next door, where you may sleep if you wish. I advise you to take some blankets to ward off the cold. Although it seems foolish when there is a comfortable bed right here.”

  He waited for her reply to no avail. “I could volunteer to be noble, but I have no desire to endure such discomfort myself. My bed is large enough that we can each sleep on our own side.”

  When Tess still remained silent, Ian let out a breath in exasperation. “Your nerves are understandable, love, but I assure you, I won’t ravish you in your sleep. I am that much of a gentleman.”

  “I believe you are,” Tess said grudgingly. “It is just I have never slept with anyone before.”

  “That can be lonely.”

  She gave him a quelling look. “I doubt I will sleep a wink tonight,” she muttered under her breath.

  “I may not either,” Ian murmured with complete sincerity.

  After a long delay, Tess emerged from the dressing room uncertain how to act. Fanny had advised her to let Rotham take the lead on their wedding night, but what the devil should she do now that he didn’t mean to consummate their union? She never would have envisioned such consideration from him, and yet she was grateful that he didn’t mean to force her to honor their vows just then.

  When Tess caught sight of Rotham, though, she came up short. Only partly dressed, he lounged in a wing chair, drinking from what looked to be a brandy snifter. Although he still wore his satin knee breeches and stockings, he’d shed his coat and cravat and shirt and had removed his shoes.