What a Devilish Duke Desires

by Vicky Dreiling

  Ah, hell. “Thank you for being honest.” Harry strode through the now empty rooms and collected his greatcoat, hat, and gloves from a servant.

  Mr. Wilson, the master of ceremonies, opened the door. “Good evening, Your Grace.”

  Harry nodded and strode out into the mist. Many of the lower orders were still celebrating near the building. When his carriage pulled up next to the curb, Harry was tempted to give the driver Lucy’s address, but he thought of Mrs. Thompson’s words and gave his driver directions to the Albany instead.

  He would prove Mrs. Thompson wrong.

  Chapter Ten

  The Albany, the next afternoon

  Lucy paused on the step and took a deep breath. One of the maids had failed to report for duty today. When Mrs. Finkle offered to double her wages if she would take on more sets, Lucy had accepted immediately. Now she was a bit weary and must face the one residence she abhorred—G1. With a deep breath, she knocked. When no one responded, she unlocked the door and walked inside. “Maid service,” she called out.

  Satisfied that no one was at home, she set out to clean the parlor. Once again, she encountered untidy stacks of papers on the desk and on the carpet of all places. There was pet fur on the lumpy sofa as usual. Lucy wondered why a man who could afford to live at the Albany did not replace the shabby furnishings. Ah, well, the gentleman’s unappealing décor was none of her concern.

  After dusting and cleaning out the cold ashes in the fireplace, Lucy opened the double doors to the bedchamber. She folded back the counterpane. When she pulled the sheets off the bed, the book she’d seen the last time fell to the floor. Gritting her teeth, she picked it up. While she swore not to look, curiosity got the better of her. She gasped at the bawdy engraving. A woman was brazenly holding up her flimsy skirts and exposing her nude body to a crowd of men. With a grimace, Lucy snapped it closed and set the book on the night table.

  She put clean sheets on the bed and dragged the bag of laundry out into the parlor. The scrape of a key in the lock startled her. Her heart knocked against her chest. It was the first time a gentleman resident had returned home while she was cleaning. She clasped the laundry bag and reminded herself that she was a mere servant. The gentleman would pay her little heed.

  As the door opened, she lowered her gaze as befit a servant.

  “Miss Longmore, what are you doing here?”

  She gasped at the distinctive sound of the duke’s voice, stumbled over the bag of laundry, and fell against him with a squeak.

  He caught her and laughed. “I believe it is my lucky day.”

  Her pulse raced. When she looked up, she found him smiling. She was all too aware of his big hands upon her and the faint scent of wintergreen soap she’d discerned before. He was so much taller that the top of her head barely reached his chin. She found herself staring at his deep-set blue eyes once again. When his gaze lowered imperceptibly, she realized he was looking at her mouth. Dear God, she was clinging to him. Had she lost her mind?

  She continued to clutch him and told herself it was because her knees were weak.

  They were not.

  She forced herself to release him. “I beg your pardon.”

  “At the risk of injuring your feminine sensibilities, I give you permission to fall into my arms whenever you wish.”

  Her face grew warm. “How clumsy of me.”

  “Could you possibly contrive to fall into my arms once more?”

  God help her. She was tempted.

  “Truly your stumble was the best thing that happened to me today.”

  He startled a laugh out of her. “You must have had a bad day.”

  “Actually a boring day. Did Barlow let you in?” he asked as he set his key on a tray and removed his hat, gloves, and greatcoat.

  “Barlow?” she said.

  “My manservant. You did not see him?”

  “No, I have a key. My instructions are to call out. If no one answers the door, I enter to clean.”

  “I don’t understand,” he said.

  Her expression turned wary. “I work here—at the Albany, I mean. I did not know you live here.” Belatedly she realized she was twisting her hands. When he noticed, she made herself clasp her hands hard.

  He frowned. “Barlow must be walking Bandit.”

  She curtsied. “Pardon me. I must go, Your Grace.”

  “Will you call me Harry when it is just us?”

  “I’ll think about it.” Then self-preservation kicked in. “Your servant will return with Bandit soon. One word from him, and I could lose my job just like that,” she said, snapping her fingers.

  “Barlow would say nothing, and we’ve done nothing wrong.”

  “I mean no disrespect to your manservant, but I can’t risk gossip. I could lose my position.”

  “Right. Can’t have that, can we?”

  “Please excuse me. I must deliver the sheets to the housekeeper.”

  An arrested expression crossed his face.

  Her face flamed as she recalled the book of engravings that had fallen from the sheets.

  “You were the one who set the book in the middle of the bed,” he said.

  Oh, this was horribly embarrassing. She’d done nothing wrong, but of course he knew she’d looked. Her blush had given her away.

  “You’re shocked,” he said.

  “On the contrary, I’m appalled,” she said, squaring her shoulders.

  His mouth twitched once, and it was enough to set her temper off. “You ought to be ashamed. Those engravings are indecent.”

  “I beg your pardon, Miss Longmore. You played quite a joke on me when you placed the book in the middle of the bed.”

  She sniffed. “I meant to shame you.”

  He inclined his head. “I deserve your censure.”

  She might have believed him if she hadn’t seen mischief lurking in his eyes. When she reached for the laundry bag, he intervened. “Allow me.”

  She shook her head. “I’m working. You must treat me as if I’m invisible.”

  “No one else is here, and it is ingrained in me to assist a lady.”

  “I’m a servant. You mustn’t ever forget.”

  “It is quite obvious you are educated and a gentleman’s daughter. You could do so much better.”

  His words stunned her. For a moment, she couldn’t believe he’d said it, but there was no doubt he’d insinuated she hadn’t tried hard enough to find a better job. “How dare you claim to know my situation? If I could do better, do you think for one moment I would be cleaning your rooms?”

  He sighed. “I did not intend to insult you. Quite the opposite.”

  “Your meaning was clear enough to me. Evidently, you believe I haven’t tried hard enough to find a ‘better’ job.”

  “Now you’re twisting my words.”

  “I heard what you said. How dare you presume to know what steps I’ve taken to find better employment? What would you know about work? No doubt you hire people to do everything for you.”

  He fisted his hands on his hips. “That’s correct, Miss Longmore. I simply put up my feet and do nothing all the day long.”

  The clock on the mantel chimed.

  “I’ve got to take the laundry downstairs to the head maid.” She hefted the bag. “Excuse me.”

  “Meet me at the park,” he said. “I intend to finish this argument.”

  “I don’t need your condescension.”

  His blue eyes narrowed. “I don’t need yours either.”

  “We’ll have this out, and then we will part ways—forever.” Then she slammed the door behind her.

  When Lucy reached the bottom of the stairs, she hurried to Mrs. Finkle’s office. The head housekeeper handed over her wages and studied her. “You’re lookin’ a bit frayed around the edges. Is somethin’ the matter?”

  She must collect her wits. “No, I’m perfectly well. Will there be anything else?”

  “That will be all,” Mrs. Finkle said. “You don’t seem your
self at all. Your face is flushed.”

  “I’m fine, really. It’s the curse of being a redhead. A little exertion and it shows on my face.” She didn’t want Mrs. Finkle to think she was ill and unable to work.

  “Are you sure?” Mrs. Finkle said.

  “Yes, really, I’m well.” She silently damned Granfield for stirring up her temper. Lucy bobbed a curtsy and hurried out the door. For a moment, she debated whether or not to meet His Haughtiness, but she had a score to settle with him.

  Harry fisted his hands and strode back and forth by the bench where they’d met before. She’d lit into him like a cinder and made it sound as if he were insulting her, when he’d meant the exact opposite. If she’d just given him half a chance, he would have explained, but no, she’d flayed him with her sharp tongue.

  He kept pacing and thought about everything he’d said. Damn it all to hell, he’d said the wrong thing, when all he’d meant was that she was obviously clever and educated and deserved a better position.

  But that wasn’t what he’d said.

  You could do so much better.

  If I could do better, do you think for one moment I would be cleaning your rooms?

  Hell, he hadn’t meant it that way.

  That was no excuse. He’d seen where she lived, and now he was furious with himself. Stupid, stupid, stupid of him to speak to her in a patronizing manner.

  He’d insulted her and hurt her pride.

  He ran his hand through his hair. Bloody hell. One moment he’d been flirting with her and the next he’d acted like a prize ass. He’d spoken to her in a condescending manner as if he knew her situation when he didn’t know the challenges she faced.

  No wonder she’d cut up at him.

  “Devil take it,” he muttered.

  A couple walked past and looked at him askance.

  Wonderful. He’d been muttering to himself.

  She probably wouldn’t show.

  Yes, she would. He hoped.

  He’d been in the wrong, but he didn’t want to admit it to Miss High and Mighty.

  Damn, damn, damn. He’d have to eat humble pie. He’d rather eat dirt.

  She’d cleaned his messy rooms and brushed all the dog hair off his cast-off sofa. He should tell her not to bother with the dog hair. Bandit would just shed again.

  She’d also seen the erotic engravings. That made him smile a little. He wondered if she’d secretly been titillated by them. Of course not. She’d been appalled.

  He heard footsteps and looked up.

  Her face was the color of strawberries. Redheads supposedly had quick tempers. Her temper was probably popping and sizzling like the fireworks at Vauxhall.

  He took off his hat. “Earlier, I spoke without thinking.”

  “You are a privileged aristocrat,” she said, her voice rising. “You have very little idea of what my circumstances are, and yet, you proceeded to tell me that I could do so much better.”

  “I actually meant it as a compliment, but it came out all wrong. I know you’re smart and talented. It’s true I don’t know all of your challenges, but I absolutely believe you are clever enough and capable enough to achieve whatever you want in life. That is what I should have said, and whether you believe it or not, that is my true opinion of you.”

  She lifted her chin. “I did not appreciate your condescension.”

  “When you fell into my arms, my brain turned to mush. I was thinking it was my lucky day. Instead I ruined the day.”

  “You wounded me.” She blinked and swiped her hand across her face.

  Ah, hell, he’d made her cry. He handed her his handkerchief. “What I said was stupid and unconscionable. Forgive me?”

  “You must promise not to wound me again.”

  “I promise. Will you sit with me?” he asked.

  When she nodded, he felt as if he could breathe again.

  He reached over and clasped her hand when she sat beside him. Deep inside her chest it felt as if he’d left a bruise.

  For a long while, he said nothing. “I know your circumstances are very different than mine,” he said, “but it doesn’t have to be that way here.”

  “You assume I will meet you here again,” she said.

  “I don’t assume; I hope.”

  She folded his handkerchief into a small square and tried to hand it to him, but he waved it away. He’d left her a souvenir with his initials. “I’m not sure it is wise to meet again. I can’t see where this could possibly lead.”

  “Can you not?” he said, searching her eyes.

  She knew what would happen if she didn’t break ties with him now. He would never mean to hurt her, but it was inevitable, because she could never be a part of his world. She had to break all ties with him today, but it was so hard because he’d become so dear to her.

  “Lucy, please give me another chance,” he said.

  She bit her lip, because she wanted so badly to say yes, but she knew if she didn’t end it now, she would never be able to do it.

  “I must go,” she said, popping up from the bench.

  He rose. “Will you meet me here tomorrow?”

  Despite everything, she was torn between wanting to be with him and knowing that it would only create more pain for her. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

  “Don’t do this to us,” he said.

  Her stomach trembled. He’d become special to her, and it scared her. She’d let him into her life and now she felt vulnerable. He hadn’t meant to wound her today, but if she didn’t end it now, she knew it would happen again and again. He wouldn’t mean to hurt her, but it was inevitable, because she could never be a part of his world. If she did not end it now, she would awake one day, knowing that he’d married another because that was what was expected of him.

  He took her by the shoulders. “What are you thinking?”

  “I must go.”

  “No, not yet,” he said.

  “If someone we know saw us alone here, it could hurt my reputation. If that happened, I would lose most if not all of my dance clients. I can’t risk it.”

  “No one comes here in the afternoon. Everyone is at Rotten Row at five o’clock. You’re safe with me,” he said.

  My heart isn’t safe at all. “That is where you should be.”

  “I’d rather be with you,” he said.

  “I need time to think, and I can’t think properly when I’m with you.”

  “I’ll wait on our bench tomorrow,” he said.

  You hurt me and it stings. “No, I won’t be here.”

  “Lucy, I’m sorry for what I said earlier.”

  “I’ve allowed myself to get caught up in this whirlwind with you. Everything has gone by so quickly, and I’ve not had a chance to think about what I’m doing. One minute, I’m ebullient, because I know I will see you, and the next my spirits are lowered, because I don’t know when I’ll see you next. I’ve thought of Green Park as our place, but we have made it a trysting place. I need time alone to consider all that has happened.”

  “How much time?” he said.

  “I’m sorry, Harry. I don’t know.”

  “You will leave me to wonder, not knowing if I’ll ever see you again?”

  “One week,” she said. “If I’m not here at four o’clock, then you will know I won’t return.”

  “I will not give up on us, and I will not lose you,” he said, his voice full of determination.

  It would be better for him if she disappeared from his life. There were too many obstacles standing in their way. They could only meet at her home or the park, because they had to conceal their affaire de coeur, and that alone should have warned her off from the beginning.

  There was no hope for them. His family, friends, and political allies would never accept her. She would be an embarrassment to him. Too many had seen her serving lemonade, and they knew she was paid to teach dance lessons. The kindest thing she could do for him was to quietly disappear from his life. But even the thought of a permanen
t separation filled her with anguish.

  God help her, it would be so hard to make this break, because even though she’d sworn to keep her head out of the clouds, she’d fallen in love with him.

  She’d never meant to get involved with him that first time they had met at the park, but somehow he’d managed to charm her and challenge her. She’d thought she could keep her feelings in check, but like any other smitten girl, she’d allowed her budding feelings to grow and flourish. Now she must face the pain of separation. Part of her wanted to recant, to tell him that she’d made a mistake, but that mistake had led her to this place with him where they were living in a secret fantasy, one that no one in either of their worlds would ever accept.

  One week later

  Lucy had not felt so wretched since the day she’d pawned her mother’s pearls.

  After she took the last of the laundry to Mrs. Finkle, Lucy strode out of Vigo Street. She was heartsick and worried that Harry had found someone else in the interim. All week, she’d imagined him riding on Rotten Row with all the other nobles or calling on a lady. She’d been a fool to push him away, all because she’d gotten scared that he would hurt her again. The only person she’d hurt was herself.

  The clopping of hooves drew her attention. A block away a carriage came to a halt. The door opened. Harry stood on the pavement. Then he motioned her to come to him. Lucy lifted her skirts and ran.

  “Up you go,” he said, lifting her into the carriage as if she weighed nothing.

  When he followed her inside, he sat beside her and caught her up in his arms. “I missed you.”

  “I was miserable,” she said. “I worried you would never want to see me again.”

  “No, Lucy. I will never give up on us, and I will not lose you.”

  He pulled the drapes closed on either side of the carriage “May I kiss you?”

  She smiled. “I thought you would never ask.”

  Harry untied her cap and tossed it aside. He kissed her gently at first, and then with more intention. When he touched his tongue to her mouth, she parted her lips. He thrust his tongue inside her mouth. Soon she was swept away by his wet, hot, and bone-melting kisses. She loved being in his strong arms again. It felt like home to her.