To Desire a Wicked Duke

by Nicole Jordan

  She had no chance for private conversation with him, however, since she was soon occupied with saying fond farewells to the newlyweds. For their wedding journey, Basil was taking Fanny home to Hampshire to visit his family and, hopefully, to reunite with hers.

  After much embracing and laughter and sharing of good wishes, Fanny turned back to Tess.

  “I cannot thank you enough, dearest Tess,” Fanny said, her gratitude positively heartfelt. “And you, your grace.”

  “I believe the appreciation is mutual,” Ian assured her.

  Basil added his earnest thanks and then bundled his radiant bride into the waiting traveling chaise, where he plied her with lap robes and hot bricks at her feet to keep her warm during their journey. As the carriage drove away, the wedding crowd broke into small groups in order to walk the short distance along Bellacourt’s elegant graveled paths to the main manor, with Dorothy Croft and Lady Freemantle accompanying Tess and Ian.

  Never one for silence, Winifred took the opportunity to thank the duke for his generosity. “We are all grateful to you for promoting Fanny’s interests, your grace. She has been so instrumental in helping so many of our friends find true love that she deserves the same chance at happiness.”

  “I cannot take credit for her happiness, Lady Freemantle,” Ian demurred politely.

  “But you hired Mr. Eddowes, which improved his financial prospects considerably. One must be practical when it comes to marriage, you know. Lovers cannot live on romance alone. And Fanny’s second novel will soon be published, which should nicely supplement their income. Of course, her work cannot compare to such literary geniuses as Lord Byron and Sir Walter Scott, but I vow her stories are nearly as exciting. And you aided in her research, your grace. Fancy you having the ghost of your murdered ancestor haunting your castle.”

  Walking beside Winifred, Dorothy Croft gave a delicate shudder. “I am quite glad you did not ask me to accompany you to Cornwall, Tess,” Dorothy said with conviction. “I would have fainted dead away at the first hint of a ghost. In truth, I doubt I will ever be able to visit there for fear of encountering Rotham’s murdered ancestor.”

  Kindly, Tess concealed her amusement at her fainthearted companion. “I think you needn’t worry, Dorothy. Falwell’s ghost proved to be very much alive and human. The housekeeper, Mrs. Hiddleston, wrote this past week to say there have been no more ghost sightings, or smugglers, either.”

  “I should hope not,” Dorothy replied fervently.

  Winifred was not of the same mind. “Well, I should like to visit Falwell someday, Tess. I think a good night’s haunting would be delightful. I often wonder if Freemantle Park is plagued by spirits—each time I hear rattles down the corridor, in fact. But no doubt it is just the drafty chimneys. What of the soldier who was pretending to be the duke’s ghost?”

  “Ned Crutchley is doing rather well,” Tess answered. “The reward he received for helping recover the stolen jewels should provide for his care for a long time to come. And Mr. Geary may employ him at the hospital, aiding other veterans to deal with their traumas.”

  Dorothy chimed in again. “I am not surprised that the chain-rattling ghost was all a hoax. Honestly, I do not even believe in ghosts,” she declared, blithely contradicting her assertion of only moments ago.

  Tess had not changed her own beliefs about spirit hauntings, but like Winifred, Patrick Hennessy was disappointed that the Falwell ghost had been exposed as a real human entity. The actor would not admit defeat, however, and his investigations had since expanded to Derbyshire in search of proof that otherworldly shades were real.

  “So all’s well that ends well,” Winifred concluded happily, having a soft spot in her heart for downtrodden souls such as Ned Crutchley. “And the future is bright for all my dearest friends … although it is a terrible shame that Richard perished at such a young age. Thankfully, you are blissfully wed to the duke now, Tess.”

  “Yes,” Tess said softly, feeling a familiar sadness and regret at the mention of her late betrothed. Yet she purposely caught Ian’s eye to convey her silent reassurance.

  She still mourned Richard and always would. Despite his failings, he’d been her friend and first love and would always be a part of her.

  But her feelings for Ian were different. She wanted him with a woman’s desire, not a young girl’s romantic idealism. Her love for Ian was richer and deeper, more abiding.

  He seemed to read her unspoken message, for his expression remained relatively tranquil, yet she made a promise to herself to remind him of her devotion as soon as they were alone together.

  That moment was a long time in coming. When they reached the manor, Tess was not surprised to find that a throng of guests had already begun arriving, even though it was barely noon. An invitation to Bellacourt was highly sought-after, in no small part because of the Devil Duke’s sudden marriage. In this case, he and his new duchess were celebrating their good fortune and showing the Beau Monde that they were very much in love.

  Tess’s second aim for the festivities was to thank her charities’ many contributors. She also wanted to laud the eminent physician, Mr. Geary, and to introduce her patrons to Lady Claybourne. With her husband Heath’s assistance, Lily was following in Tess’s philanthropic footsteps, having recently opened a home for destitute, abused, and fallen women—helping young girls escape the cruel life of a streetwalker and unwed mothers provide a decent future for their children.

  Tess had composed the primary guest list, but Roslyn had used her extraordinary social talents to help organize the wedding breakfast and ball. Thus, it promised to be a splendid affair. In the dining rooms, a veritable feast had been laid out on buffet tables for the guests, while musicians were tuning their instruments in the ballroom to offer dancing, and card tables had been set up in the drawing room for the whist enthusiasts.

  A crowd had already gathered in the ballroom, Tess saw. She and Ian moved around the enormous room, welcoming their guests to their home. She soon found herself separated from Ian, however. Thus he was out of earshot when Damon and Eleanor approached her to discuss the happy state of her marriage.

  “It is fortunate that you and Rotham settled your differences so delightfully, Tess,” Eleanor said with a laughing look up at her husband. “Now Damon won’t have to call him out.”

  “Yes,” he agreed, amused. “I was not looking forward to shedding his blood or mine.”

  Exceedingly glad herself, Tess sought Ian’s gaze through the sea of guests and shared another intimate smile with him.

  A short while later, the new Lady Haviland broke away from her own beloved husband’s side to take Tess’s hands. “I am delighted your marriage turned out so wonderfully,” Madeline said warmly. “You deserve happiness, Tess, more than anyone I know. When I heard that you had to wed Rotham, I feared it would not end well.”

  “So did I,” Tess replied in heartfelt agreement.

  It was perhaps two hours later when Ian found her again. “Are you ready, my love?”

  “Yes,” she answered, before excusing herself to her guests. She and Ian had promised to bring Jamie a treat before his afternoon nap.

  They stopped by the buffet tables to collect a plate of meringues baked in the shape of swans, then made their way upstairs to a much quieter wing of the house where the nursery was located.

  “I am not sorry to escape the intense scrutiny,” Ian admitted. “Your friends have kept a close eye on me all afternoon, were you aware? No doubt they want to verify that I am adoring you properly.”

  “I know,” Tess said with a smug smile. “They are highly protective of me. But they are coming to trust that you love me. And they are also grateful to you for helping Fanny by hiring Basil.”

  “He is turning out to be a fairly admirable secretary,” Ian said before fixing her with a curious look. “I never did discover what came over him the afternoon I returned from Cornwall. Eddowes offered to resign his post while proclaiming his steadfast loyalty to you.”
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br />   Remembering, Tess gave Ian a somewhat guilty glance. “I asked him where I could find your account books. I hoped to learn if you had made all those generous contributions while giving the credit to your solicitor. But Basil would not betray your trust and suggested that I confront you directly.”

  Ian pursed his mouth in solemn thought. “Perhaps he is worth keeping on after all.”

  Tess eyed him with concern. “You would not dismiss Basil now, would you?” When she recognized the glimmer of amusement in Ian’s eyes, understanding dawned. He was baiting her again—and enjoying it thoroughly. “You are trying to provoke me, aren’t you, your grace?”

  “Of course. What did you expect?”

  When an endearingly arrogant smile spread across his lips, Tess had to smile in return. “I would not have it any other way.”

  They found Jamie in his bedchamber, in the company of his nurse, Mrs. Dixon. The toddler was eagerly awaiting their arrival, for he began jumping up and down as soon as they entered. “My grace, Miss Tess! You ’membered!”

  “Of course we remembered you, scamp,” Ian said, ruffling the boy’s blond curls.

  Jamie’s eyes grew huge when Tess offered him a swan. At first he didn’t want to eat the confection and destroy the delicate design, and at the same time, he exhibited his generous nature by making certain Mrs. Dixon got her own swan, too. Then, assured that he could save one simply for viewing, he hungrily bit into the sweet.

  When Mrs. Dixon worried aloud that he would spoil his appetite so that he wouldn’t eat his supper, Tess intervened.

  “I believe we can make an exception just this once.”

  When he had devoured two of the treats, Tess washed his sticky face. Then together, she and Ian put Jamie to bed.

  Before snuggling under the covers, the child gave first Ian, then Tess an ardent hug—a loving gesture that brought a mist to her eyes.

  Over Jamie’s head, Tess shared a poignant glance with Ian as happiness ran through her. They were a family now, and someday they would be tucking their own children in to sleep.

  When Jamie obediently closed his eyes and Mrs. Dixon settled down to watch over him, they left the room quietly. Out in the corridor, Ian paused to claim a lingering kiss from Tess.

  “It has been much too long since I last kissed you,” he complained before leading her back to their myriad guests.

  Agreeing wholeheartedly, Tess refrained from mentioning that Ian had kissed her passionately just this morning before she left to join Fanny’s bridesmaids. Nor did Tess remind him of the hours of searing tenderness they’d spent in their marriage bed the previous night.

  Upon returning to the ballroom, they spent the next several hours fulfilling their duties as host and hostess, including opening the dancing with a minuet.

  Finally, with a glance at the glittering crowd, Ian suddenly took Tess’s hand and whisked her from the ballroom.

  “Where are you taking me?” she asked.

  “Someplace where we may be private. I am famished for a taste of you.”

  Anticipation and eagerness rippled through Tess. She was more than happy to slip away from the crowd to share an embrace with her stunningly sensual husband.

  Finding a spot to be alone, however, proved difficult. In every corridor, they passed small knots of chattering guests and busy footmen carrying trays to and from the buffet tables.

  After trying several rooms, which were also occupied, they discovered the library deserted. When they slipped inside, Ian shut the door firmly behind them. Instantly the gay sounds of the gathering became muted.

  “Alone at last,” Ian said, taking Tess in his arms.

  “Just what are your intentions, wicked sir?” she asked, laughing up into his eyes.

  “I have yet to decide. How wicked would you like me to be, my love?”

  “A little ravishment might be gratifying.”

  “I might comply if you beg prettily enough.”

  Tess flashed him an arch smile. “You are still laboring under a severe misapprehension, your grace. I would be delighted to have you ravish me, but I will not beg you, prettily or otherwise.”

  His half-lidded gaze was amused. “I seem to recall you reneging on that vow on several occasions … although I admit, you have had me pleading for mercy once or twice.”

  Her eyebrow lifted. “Only once or twice?”

  “Well, perhaps somewhat more frequently than that.”

  “Yes, much more frequently. Your memory is sadly lacking, I fear.”

  “Then by all means, we must remedy my deficiency.”

  Thankfully, Ian bent to kiss her, his mouth hot and tasting of passion. That exquisitely hard, hungry mouth could drive her wild and fill her with pleasure, Tess thought as his tongue tangled and dueled with hers. So could his hands. When those marvelous hands rose to caress her breasts through her gown, she moaned at the delicious sensations streaking through her.

  She was only vaguely aware of the library door opening moments later.

  “There you are,” a haughty female voice suddenly interrupted. “I should have known I would find you trysting.”

  They broke apart and turned to face Tess’s disapproving godmother.

  “Honestly, Rotham,” Lady Wingate complained. “Can you never manage to quell your sinful urges in public?”

  Unperturbed, Ian slid an arm around Tess’s waist. “I have every right to tryst with my wife in my own home, Lady Wingate,” he said mildly. “We have been wed for more than six weeks now, in large part thanks to you.”

  “Perhaps so, but it is deplorable, the way you disregard propriety when there are so many witnesses present. And you, my dear,” she said, fixing her gaze on Tess. “Have I taught you nothing about proper behavior in all these years?”

  Despite her godmother’s avowed dismay, Tess suspected that Lady Wingate’s expression of shocked rectitude was largely feigned.

  Her own tone turned wry when she replied. “I think you protest a bit too much, my lady. You were quite glad to catch us in an illicit embrace at your house party, since you could demand that Rotham marry me. It all worked out exactly as you hoped. Come now, admit it.”

  The hint of a pleased smile on Lady Wingate’s lips confirmed that she was only pretending to be scandalized now. “I admit that I was clever enough to take advantage of the opportunity you presented.”

  Ian answered for Tess. “You were indeed clever, my lady. And you are also astute enough to know when you are unwanted … as you are presently.”

  Lady Wingate pursed her mouth for a moment but gave in with good grace. “Very well, I will leave you to your shameless dalliances. I want a god-grandchild to keep young Jamie company. But I trust you will not make a habit of exposing Tess to scandal every time you venture out in public together, Rotham.”

  “Not every time,” Ian pledged. “Only now and then.”

  Tess stifled a laugh as the baroness shook her head in exasperation.

  When the noblewoman had left the library and shut the door firmly behind her, Ian turned to Tess. “Now where were we?” he asked, drawing her against him again.

  “I believe you were kissing me witless.”

  Tess thought he would resume his delightful attentions, but he hesitated. “She does have a point,” he observed. “Jamie needs a playmate or two to keep him company.”

  Tess completely agreed. She was coming to love Ian’s young ward and knew he would make a wonderful older brother to their own children someday … hopefully someday soon.

  “What are you suggesting, dear husband?” she asked innocently.

  “That I endeavor harder to sire an heir—merely to please your godmother, of course.”

  Tess laughed softly, feeling a sunburst of joy inside her. “Of course. But I would like nothing better than to bear your children, my beloved Ian.”

  Catching his hands with her own, she held them to her breast, where her heart thrummed with love for him.

  Naturally, her gesture earned Tess a
nother heated kiss that sent shuddering thrills through her pleasure-flushed veins and made her hurt with longing.

  “You were right,” she panted when he finally raised his head. “We do owe Lady Wingate our thanks for bringing us together.”

  “I am not so certain,” Ian responded, short of breath himself. “She gave us a decided push weeks ago, but in the end, I would have eventually married you.”

  “Would you now?” Tess asked, delighted by the thought.

  “Yes. My heart was captured long ago by a beautiful romantic who fascinates me, arouses me, inspires me.…”

  Ian claimed her mouth in another cherishing kiss, letting her feel the fierce burn of his love.

  Tess melted into his embrace. Her heart had been captured by a vexingly arrogant duke who fired her emotions and challenged her to reach for depths of passion she had never known were possible.

  After a lengthy interval, Tess drew back far enough to murmur against his lips. “Love me forever, Ian.”

  “I will, I swear it,” he promised—and then proceeded to show her precisely how he intended to keep his vow.

  Dear Readers,

  I’ve had a marvelous time embroiling the Loring sisters and their friends in their spirited Courtship Wars and helping them find their perfect mates. Thank you for joining me in their romantic adventures.

  Next up is a brand new Regency series entitled Legendary Lovers, where the passionate, pleasure-loving Wilde cousins vie to follow in the footsteps of the world’s greatest lovers.

  Best wishes and happy reading!

  Nicole Jordan

  Read on for a look at book one in Nicole Jordan’s exciting new Legendary Lovers series

  The flash of amber silk intrigued him, although not as much as the lovely woman wearing it.

  Lounging negligently against a column in his crowded ballroom, Ashton Wilde, eighth Marquis of Beaufort, narrowed his gaze as the blond beauty disappeared through the French doors and onto the terrace beyond.

  Maura Collyer, his younger sister’s bosom friend. What the devil was she up to?