Tempting the Ruined Duke: A Steamy Historical Regency Romance Novel

by Olivia Bennet

  “I expect so,” he murmured. But still…he did not move.

  She looked at him expectantly and he looked back at her.

  “Mr. Notley takes to his bed quite early these days. I feel sure he is already asleep.” She prompted.

  “What about his daughter?”

  Jeremy felt as if he might be losing his mind to even ask the question.

  “Miss Notley might stay up and read. Sometimes she draws, but the light is not that good.”

  “I imagine not.”

  They regarded each other, at something of an impasse.

  “Well…” Jeremy said just to see what she would do, “I should probably leave.”

  The lady nodded. “Yes. That would be best.”

  He hesitated, looking again at the dragon on the door. The dragon’s eyes seemed to pull his eye to the doorknob, as if telling him to open the door. The lady sighed, turning away and walking slowly back to her house. She kept casting glances at him as if to make him move. Jeremy ignored her.

  He was doing nothing wrong.

  He looked back at the plaque. It was exquisitely done as well. Someone had taken care with the lettering. Someone who was precise, painstaking and had incredible attention to detail.

  Jeremy lifted his hand and knocked on the door before he could think. He held his breath as he heard the sound of footsteps approaching.

  He adjusted his eyes downward to where he expected her face to appear. The door opened and his eyes landed on a cotton-clad chest. With surprise, he raised his eyes.

  “Mr. Notley…” he said and took a deep breath. “Good evening.”

  Chapter 13

  Impromptu Encounter

  Louisa shot to her feet in shock when she heard the voice at the door. What was the Duke doing here? She walked the five steps that brought her to the doorway, where her father was staring at the Duke as if he might be hallucinating.

  “Your Grace…this is a surprise.”

  Is he blushing? Louisa squinted at his flushed cheeks in wonder. The Duke swallowed, cleared his throat and smiled awkwardly. “Forgive me. I was walking by when I spotted your…” he glanced at the offending item, “very eye-catching door. I crossed the street to take a better look and this is when I saw your name plaque. I thought it might be rude of me to simply pass on by without greeting you.”

  “Oh,” Americus stepped back quickly almost treading on Louisa’s toes in his haste. “Come in.”

  Louisa’s eyes darted about the room in embarrassment. It was most definitely much smaller than the Duke’s usual abode. However, it was also neat and clean – the housekeeper had been by earlier – and that was a relief. When they were creating, both she and her father tended to lose track of time or their surroundings. As a result, they sometimes left the housekeeping undone until Adalyne came by to clean and neaten the place.

  “Have a seat,” Louisa said pointing at the bench. She went quickly to the stone jar they kept on the floor in the corner and poured out some cider in a cup, then placed it in front of the Duke. She did not sit herself, but stood behind her father and waited for the Duke to speak again.

  He looked around curiously, but didn’t say anything. Americus took a breath, with an uncertain glance at Louisa before asking. “I trust your afternoon appointment went well?”

  The Duke turned his attention from inspecting the room to favor Americus with a smile. “Yes, it did. As a matter of fact, I meant to ask you a question.”

  “Go ahead.” Americus gestured with his hand for the Duke to continue.

  “I wanted to know if you usually participate in the fair. We are in the midst of organizing this year’s event and I would like to hear your thoughts.”

  Louisa perked up. “Fair? I love the fair.”

  The Duke smiled. “You do? That is good. Have you ever displayed your paintings for sale at the fair?”

  Louisa slowly nodded. “We usually sell one or two pieces. It is a good way to supplement our income.”

  His Grace clapped in delight. “That is indeed wonderful. I hope you have some pieces to sell this year. We plan to make this the biggest and best fair the town has ever seen in honor of my Father, may he rest in peace.”

  Americus smiled. “That is a wonderful tribute.”

  “Indeed. My Father and I did not always get along but I respected him and he did much for this town.”

  “He did indeed.” Americus agreed.

  The Duke looked to Louisa and smiled. “Well, I shall see you tomorrow.” He said as he got to his feet.

  Louisa nodded but did not speak. She hastened to the door before her father could stand up and held it open for the Duke.

  “Good night, Your Grace.”

  He bowed to her, “Good night…Miss Notley.”

  He walked slowly out, casting a final glance at her just before she closed the door behind him. She leaned against it, closed her eyes and sighed before startling as she remembered that her father was in the room.

  She opened her eyes to find him considering her with narrow eyes. She blinked at him a few times, face coloring with embarrassment.

  “I have letters to write,” her father said turning away from her and walking out of the room.

  Dear Mr. Jones,

  Allow me to extend to you my greetings and those of my daughter.

  The last we spoke, you had indicated a desire to find yourself a wife. I do not know why I did not think of it sooner, but my daughter is of age, while my own body fails, I would like to see her married before it fails completely.

  She is an accomplished artist and I know you would not prevent her from pursuing her craft. She would make your home beautiful, as she has ours. Her artistry is not limited to just drawing. She sees deeper than that and is able to bring out the beauty in anything.

  I know you would be a solicitous husband to her, and she would be a helpful mate and companion.

  I look forward to your reply and the prospect that we might be kin in the future.

  Yours faithfully,

  Americus Notley

  Americus read through the missive a few times, hoping that it struck just the right note and did not come off as pleading or begging. He wanted Louisa to find a good husband but he did not want anyone to think she was desperate.

  Folding the letter in two, he shrugged as he placed his seal upon it and put it aside. He would send it with the post chaise in the morning. He had no doubt that his friend would be interested. Now all he had to do, was convince Louisa.

  The day dawned bright and lovely and Louisa’s heart sped up at the mere thought of seeing the Duke again. He was nothing like she had imagined dukes to be. Although her father had painted many noblemen, she had not had occasion to be in the room before the Duke of Munboro. It simply was not done in London circles.

  In a way, she was glad because she had no preconceived notions. On the other hand, it made the ground beneath her feet a little more precarious – not knowing what to expect.

  She was aware that their relationship was a bit closer than was comfortable for her father. She took up her brush, and ran it again and again through her long brown hair. She watched her image in the looking glass absentmindedly, finding herself curious as to whether the Duke found her to be pleasing to the eye.

  She hoped so even as she knew it was foolhardy to do so. She blinked at herself, and puckered her lips, making her cheekbones stand out. She had delicate porcelain skin that was somehow immune to the effects of sunlight. Her cupid’s bow lips shone red and wet and she closed her eyes, imagining that Jeremy was in front of her, leaning forward to press his lips on hers.

  She shivered, her body feeling hot and cold, her limbs weak simply with the illusory sensation of hot lips on hers. She remembered the heat of him, being too close to him as she painted him the day before. Her lips felt a quiet sort of frenzy to feel the real thing.

  I am losing my mind.

  There was no other explanation for this.

  “Good morning, Louisa.”
r />   She jumped, turning to face Americus. “Good morning, Father. And how did you sleep?”

  “Good. And you?”

  “Very well, Father.”

  They stared awkwardly at each other, a lot of unsaid things swirling between them. Louisa turned away abruptly. “I’ll just make some breakfast then.”

  She reached for the flour, meaning to make some pound cake. Her father scraped the chair away from the table and sat down, picking up the day’s paper that she’d retrieved from the paper boy when she went out to collect the milk and eggs, and began to read.

  She busied herself with the cooking, all the while sneaking looks at her father, wondering if he would say something or they would continue to exist in this tenseness. It was not usual for them to be unable to talk to each other. Their relationship had always been easy and they shared a camaraderie probably not common between many fathers and daughters.

  Now for some reason, Americus was being stiff and standoffish.

  “Do you remember my friend, Mr. Severus Jones?” he asked so abruptly that she jumped.

  “Uh, no?”

  “He is a barrister who lives two towns over. He assisted me with some contractual work between myself and a French Comte two years ago. He came here for supper. I think you got on well.”

  “Did we?”

  “Yes. Extremely well. You wanted to know all about his work and he very kindly and patiently explained it to you.”

  “Oh. That’s…nice.”

  “Would you like to meet him again?”

  Louisa stared at her father, narrowing her eyes at him as she tried to fathom the purpose of this conversation. “I…do not mind either way.”

  Americus nodded. “Good. I shall invite him to sup with us soon. The two of you can get reacquainted.”

  She stared some more at her father before shaking her head and turning her attention to the hot chocolate that was steeping over the open flame.

  Jeremy woke up feeling the need to pay special attention to his appearance. He rubbed the special cream his mother obtained for him onto his scars – especially the ones on his neck. It slightly disguised their appearance and blended smoothly into his non-blemished skin. Even though she clearly did not care about how he looked – in fact she treated his scars as if they were nothing but milestones of his life – he still wanted to be at his best for her.

  This is ridiculous, he thought even as he smoothed his hair down and straightened his cravat so it covered most of his neck. He smoothed down his white shirt, putting on a green waistcoat that brought out the color of his eyes and a brown coat that matched his pantaloons. He looked well, he could see that in his looking glass.

  He hoped Miss Notley would appreciate the effort he had made.

  “Good morning, Your Grace,” Gilbert said as he came up to the Dowager. She was sitting on the verandah, staring out toward the grounds, her eyes blank. She jerked at his voice and then turned her head to look up at him.

  “Notley. Good morning.”

  “May I bring you something? A cup of tea?”

  She shook her head slowly. “I am well. I shall have a cup of tea later.”

  Turning away from him, she continued to stare at something along the extensive grounds.

  “Would you like to go for a walk?”

  She turned back to him, blinking as if trying to think who he was. “A walk?”

  “Yes, Your Grace. Along the grounds.”

  She turned to gaze back at the garden before getting slowly to her feet. “All right.”

  He extended an arm to her and they walked slowly off the verandah and down toward the lake. They walked in silence, simply breathing in the brisk morning air and reveling in the crisp, freshness of the morning.

  The Dowager’s eyes gradually sharpened as they walked along. “This is nice,” she said at last, “thank you for inviting me to walk with you, Notley.”

  He turned to her with a smile. “I will admit that I did have an ulterior motive.”

  She turned to him with a raised eyebrow. “Go on.”

  Gilbert sighed. “I am simply concerned that your son is taking upon himself all the work that is to be done by a steward. I feel as if he might be pushing me out.”

  “That’s ridiculous. Why would he do that?”

  “I feel that he might not have taken to me.”

  The Dowager smiled. “You are probably reading too much into his actions. He simply means to prove himself I think. I shall speak with him and–”

  “No, please Your Grace, don’t do that. It will simply seem to him as if I was using you to fight my battles for me. I shall attempt again to speak with him myself. I feel sure I can get through to him.”

  The Dowager smiled. “That’s the spirit. I am sure he shall appreciate your enthusiasm. You have my full support.”

  “And I appreciate it, Your Grace.”

  They walked on, not speaking much until Gilbert returned her to the manor house where she went off for breakfast and he went to the office to prepare the Duke’s schedule for the day. He would do his best to make himself as indispensable as possible.

  “Your Grace,” she curtsied deeply, keeping her head down which was unfortunate because Jeremy wanted to look into her eyes. They reminded him of his first love – the sea. It wasn’t just the color; it was the turbulence, the strength and inevitability that lurked therein. It reassured him to look in her eyes. He felt the expansion of possibility when he allowed himself to drown in their depths.

  He bowed to her. “Miss Notley. It is a pleasure to see you again.”

  Quickly, hearing his intake of breath, he turned to her father. “Mr. Notley.” He said with a bow, “I trust that the day finds you well?”

  Mr. Notley blanched, his expression changing from tentative outrage to polite greeting. He jerked his head in what Jeremy supposed was a nod. “I am well, Your Grace,” he said quietly. Jeremy looked him over, noting the shaking in his hands and the slight sheen of sweat on his brow. Mr. Notley was in pain and striving to hide it. His eyes slid to Miss Notley just in time to find her looking away and hooding her worried gaze from her father.

  He really did admire how these two people loved each other. Perhaps he could learn a few lessons from them. As if he had summoned her with his thought, his mother swept into the room.

  The Notleys immediately curtsied and bowed to her and he smiled.

  “Mother, good morning. I trust you had a good rest?”

  She looked at his lips as if she’d never seen him smile, her eyes wide, her mouth agape. “Y-yes I did. Thank you for asking.”

  He nodded, reaching out to squeeze her arm before giving her his own to lead her to the bench. He seated her and then looked to Mr. Notley. He nodded, taking the cue and seated himself next to the Dowager Duchess. Mr. Notley smiled at the Dowager, murmuring morning greetings. The Dowager gave him a regal nod and Mr. Notley proceeded to compliment her on the color of her dress and how it brought out her skin tone.

  Jeremy was surprised to see his mother blush.

  “They’re really quite adorable, are they not,” Miss Notley was right next to him, her breath a warm caress on his skin as she leaned to whisper in his ear. It took everything in him not to shiver, even though the skin on that side of his neck was supposed to be numb.

  He turned to look down at her, “Shall we get to work?” his voice was as cold as he could make it. It seemed they were all forgetting their boundaries.

  Chapter 14

  Unhinged

  Louisa could not really understand why she felt so hurt. So the Duke had spoken in a cold distant manner with her and since they’d began painting, he barely glanced at her. Why should that bother her? He was merely a commission. That’s all.

  Unfortunately, her upset was affecting her concentration and she just could not settle to the work before her. She resorted to tracing in leaves and painting the wood of the chair on which the Duke sat, not trusting herself to work on his mien in the mood she was in.

&n
bsp; She didn’t even know why she was miserable.

  After an hour, she put down her brush. “I think I am finished for the day,” she said quietly to the Duke so her father could not hear.