Ravaging the Duke

  She lay back in the water, letting her hair down as she did. The heat dulled her senses. She dropped the pins over the side of the tub. Picking up the linen, she soaked it in the water along with the cake of lavender soap. It smelled divine. Just like the highlands.

  She heard a noise behind her, and the outer door opened and closed. Alec. He kneeled beside the tub, taking the linen and cake of soap out of her hands. He began washing her. He scrubbed her back and arms, soap getting on him as he did. Soapy hands slid over her belly, making her sigh.

  "We need a larger tub. Then we can share a bath. This place needs to be updated. A new bathing chamber would be a good start."

  "Hush, you talk too much," he replied. Alec slid his hands around her waist, gliding the soapy linen under her breasts. Margaret leaned back in bliss.

  He kissed her. She tasted fierceness in his kiss. He lifted Margaret out of the tub, water sloshing over the sides and onto him.

  "I need you," he said between kisses. His breath heated her better than the hot water. Hard, callused hands slid across her body. He opened her mouth with his. Hard, biting kisses.

  Carrying her against his chest, Alec carried her through her room, through the connecting doors to the ducal bed. The fire had made the room warm as he deposited Margaret in the center of the mattress.

  Her nipples had hardened and Alec teased one nipple with the tip of his tongue. She leaned back against the bed as he suckled her again before he stood.

  She watched as he stripped off his robe. Margaret lifted herself on her elbows and enjoyed the sight. His muscular body was a feast to her eyes as they lingered on his thick, hard erection.

  He feathered kisses down her neck before he moved to her breasts. He suckled her, his mouth wet and hot. He parted her legs, then slid inside her.

  He stopped and stared down at her, their faces together. She saw so much need there.

  Alec moved slowly, the first thrust followed by another equally as slow. Margaret couldn't speak. The sensation of him hard inside her robbed her of words. He was so big, but she loved feeling him inside her.

  Nothing existed but the heat of their bodies, his arousal spreading her erotically. They rocked together, back and forth. Alec moved faster and faster. He was driving into her in need, their bodies slick. Wild waves of pleasure rolled over her.

  "Maggie," Alec whispered hoarsely as his body lost control.

  Margaret cried out his name as Alec kept on, their bodies coming together as one. They were falling together, into the wide, reassuring embrace of the marriage bed.

  Alec caressed her skin. How lucky was he, finding someone like Margaret. She was so incredibly soft. She was a strong woman, yet still a lady. He pulled the covers over them both, curling into her warmth.

  At some point during the night, the covers fell away. Alec felt her hand on his erection. Soft, warm fingers slid up and down his cock. He tensed as he felt her sweet lips and tongue tease the tip of his cock. He almost came as he watched her open her lips, and his hardness slide between them in the firelight. He clenched his fists as he held himself back. She was licking him, nipping him with her teeth and then the wonderful pull when she began to suck.

  "Maggie." His breathing was hoarse. He put his hand on her head, rocked his hips. "What are you doing to me, love?"

  Instead of answering, Margaret kept her mouth busy, her hands steadying herself on his thighs, and worked him harder. He heard the filthy words spill out of his mouth. He shouted as his come spilled from his body. He didn't want to stop when she shyly pulled away and wiped her lips with her fingertips.

  He growled and gathered her in his arms where he deposited her back in the center of the bed. He proceeded to make love to her so thoroughly that she was fast asleep in his arms again. Neither awoke again until morning.

  When Margaret did awaken, the bed was devoid of her husband. The only sound in the room was her new lady’s maid opening the dark, heavy drapes. She peered around the room. It was quite masculine, with heavy dark furniture. Very much a duke's chamber.

  "My name is Fiona, Your Grace. I have a bath drawn for you."

  "Thank you," Margaret mumbled, gathering the sheet and wrapping it around her body. "Do you know where the duke is?"

  "He's in his study, I believe. He said he'd break his fast with you when you awoke."

  "Very well. I trust my clothes have been returned?" She began to walk to the connecting door and toward her bathing chamber.

  "Yes, Mrs. Macintyre took care of everything, Your Grace."

  Margaret needed to speak with Alec. She wanted to know if she would be allowed to oversee Mrs. Macintyre's running of the household. At least when she was in residence, she should be able to make changes she thought necessary. She would meet with Mrs. Macintyre later this morning. They could discuss how things were run, menus, and whatever else needed her attention.

  The hot water felt good on her body. Alec was a demanding lover at times. Last night had been one of those times. He seemed to have an insatiable need. He was also a considerate lover, making sure she was pleasured. The long journey had built up fierce sexual tension between them. Making love in the traveling coach was not something easily done during the day, and the nights were still daring.

  She washed herself and stepped out of the tub. After drying herself, she found Fiona laying out her undergarments on the bed.

  "I think I'll wear the dark blue dress today."

  "Yes, Your Grace. Mrs. Macintyre said you would have more arriving, but you may shop in Edinburgh."

  Margaret nodded as she let the girl lace her up. Rather than have Fiona fuss with her hair, she had her pin it up in a simple style. Today was about learning her way around the castle and how it was run. She wasn't fond of having to dress as they did in London. Here in Scotland, she felt a more relaxed atmosphere.

  She thanked Fiona and headed downstairs to her husband's study. She'd asked her maid how to get there. If she got lost, she could always ask a footman. They seemed to be in plenty.

  As she made her way downstairs, she noted the tapestries and stuffed animal heads that hung. Alec had tried to warn her this was an old home and was how his ancestors decorated. She wondered how long some of the antlers and other things had been there. Surely they were at least dusted once or twice a year.

  She didn't have to go far to find Alec's study. A footman stood outside the door. The young man opened the door for her as she approached. She found Alec poring over ledgers on a huge dark-stained desk.

  "I was told you were waiting to break your fast?"

  His eyes lit up at the sound of her voice. "Yes. I thought I'd get a head start on the estate business."

  "And? I hope it's not as gloomy as the great hall."

  He grinned. "It is rather gloomy isn't it? I doubt it's been changed since my great-great grandfather 's time."

  "No doubt."

  "If you're ready, we can go to the breakfast room to eat. I thought it would be better than the dining room."

  "Oh? What's wrong with the dining room?" she asked, arching her eyebrow.

  "You'll see when I take you on a tour."

  "I'd like that very much."

  "I thought it would be better if I did. I know you want to meet with Mrs. Macintyre about how she runs the household. This will give you an idea of the layout before you meet with her."

  She put her hand in the crook of his arm as he led them down the hall. "You're quite astute, Your Grace."

  He bent over to whisper in her ear. "Last night was divine. I can't get enough of you."

  "Nor I you, Alec. I'm so glad we're compatible in the marriage bed."

  "As am I."

  As they approached a closed door, another footman opened it. The room was done in shades of green and pale yellow. Beside a large window sat a small dining table. Food was laid out on a sideboard. A mouthwatering array of meats, scones, toast, eggs, and other things. Margaret realized she was quite hungry.

  "I should like to make my own ch
oices this morning," she said, eyeing the steaming trays of food.

  "Good idea." Alec stood behind her as she picked up a plate and began making her choices.

  They sat down at the table. Margaret poured them both a cup of tea before spreading butter over her toast.

  "Mrs. Macintyre said she knew of a couple of modistes in Edinburgh. If we're going to stay here for the next month or so, I'm afraid I'm going to need more clothes. You as well."

  "Yes. I thought we'd go in a day or two. If you need to make an appointment, let me know. Write a missive. I'll have it sent immediately."

  "I'm simply not sure which one to go to. I have no one's opinion to go by except the housekeeper's, and I'm sure she's never used either. It's too bad we can't simply send for more of our own."

  "You know we can't risk your cousin figuring out where we are," he said before continuing, "Why not get the names? We'll drop in on both. Then you can decide."

  She smiled. "That's an excellent idea, husband." She speared a piece of sausage and popped it into her mouth.

  "What would you like to do today?"

  "I would like to meet with Mrs. Macintyre about how she runs the household. Nothing else."

  "Would you like me to give you a tour of the castle when you're finished with Mrs. Macintyre?"

  Margaret picked up a pot of honey and let some drip on to another slice of toast. Looking up, she noted a naughty smile on her husband's face. "I would like that. Shall I meet you in your study when I'm finished?"

  "Yes," he replied, still smiling.

  "What are you all about this morning? You seem to have your thoughts elsewhere."

  "You make it hard for me to concentrate on anything when you're around."

  "You're a wicked man, husband."

  He reached across the table and took her hand. "And you're a very naughty minx. Make sure we have tea in my chambers this afternoon, and be sure a pot of honey is on the tray."

  "Alec," she whispered. "What are you planning?"

  "You'll have to wait and see, and if I don't excuse myself from your presence now, I won't be held responsible for what might occur in this very room."

  "There is plenty of time for naughty adventures. See to your business, and I'll go find Mrs. Macintyre. I'll meet you as soon as we're done."

  "Very well, my dear." He paused and looked out the window at the light rain that was settling in. "If this clears, maybe we can ride the estate. It's really quite beautiful."

  She rose from her chair. "I look forward to it. All of it." Margaret leaned over and bussed her husband on the cheek before leaving him in a tangled mess of emotions.

  Chapter Twelve

  Norwood handed the last of the three older women out of the carriage. He'd spent the past three days escorting his mother, the Dowager Duchess of Wexwood and Mrs. Douglas to Paris. Before he left, he'd sent word to Wexwood that they were on their way. He hoped his friend's journey had been without incident. He or Evermont would have heard if something had gone amiss. Wexwood and his bride had traveled with a string of men to watch over them.

  There'd been no sightings of Jacob Douglas, leaving him uneasy. Surely the man wouldn't go back to America empty handed. His aunt had painted a picture of her brother-in-law, Thaddeus Douglas, as a cruel, vindictive man. One who'd always been jealous of his younger brother's success. Jacob, no doubt knowing that, would never return without Margaret or the jewels.

  He and Evermont had guards posted discreetly around Wexwood's Kent and London estates. With no signs of the man in London, they carefully watched the Kent estate. Evermont had gone as far as to send a pair of men to Somerset in case Douglas had gone there.

  For now, he'd see that the women were settled in Paris before returning. The first thing he'd do is let Evermont know they'd arrived safely. He'd return to London by week's end where he'd stay and make inquiries about Douglas's whereabouts. After which he'd head back to Kent.

  The quieter Douglas was, the more uneasy Norwood became.

  He also knew that both Evermont and Wexwood owed him hugely for escorting their mothers and his aunt to Paris. It wasn't that he minded the voyage and subsequent journey to Paris. No, it was simply the ladies’ matchmaking he couldn't deal with. They were determined to find him a bride. He was the sole remaining bachelor, and they had decided if they couldn't find one in Paris, perhaps the upcoming season would be fruitful.

  Norwood would have no part of their schemes. He'd be back in London before they could get started. If anyone would find him a bride, it would be him. Marriage was a duty. His cousin had married Wexwood for protection. Though they seemed to be attracted to each other, Norwood wondered how long that would last. Before their marriage turned out like most of the other aristocracy marriages. His own parents had a decent enough marriage. Evermont and his duchess were a love match, but that was rare. Most of the marriageable young women were too young and had no real world experience. He didn't mind the idea of a virgin; he just wanted one like his cousin. One who wasn't afraid to speak her mind and who knew when to keep quiet. One who didn't giggle at the slightest thing. He'd had enough of that.

  He followed the women into the house and made his excuses to leave them. He headed to the staircase in search of his rooms. A footman met him at the top and led him to the white doors. Inside, he found his valet unpacking his cases.

  "Call for a bath, then find me a bottle of brandy. One can't visit Paris without good brandy."

  "The bathing chambers are self sufficient, My Lord. His Grace had them updated. Hot and cold water run through pipes directly to the bathing chamber."

  Norwood nodded. "Very well."

  "Shall I show you how they work, My Lord?" Oswald asked. The man had been his father's valet. Though Norwood had wanted to keep his own, he knew he couldn't turn the older man away once his father died. It wasn't done. Besides, Oswald had never steered him wrong and knew what he wanted before he did.

  "Yes. I suppose I can manage from there. Simply bring me a brandy and finish whatever it is you're doing."

  "Yes, My Lord."

  "Oh, by the way, have you had time to see that my correspondence went out?"

  "Yes. It's on the way, My Lord. Is there anything else?" The man led Norwood into the spacious bathing chamber. A large copper tub sat against one wall. Two taps let hot and cold water into the tub. He wondered what became of all the water boys who'd held that position of bringing pails and pails of hot water. Knowing Evermont, he'd found something new for them to do in his household.

  "No, that'll be all for now. I believe the Dowager Duchess of Wexwood mentioned the theater this evening. Can you find out more about it and see I'm properly dressed for it?"

  Oswald was out of the room, but Norwood had no doubt the older man had heard everything he'd just said. He was like that.

  ***

  Norwood grumbled to himself as he followed the three women into the box that evening. Though he didn't mind a well executed play, he simply couldn't tolerate opera. It was never in English, always in Italian or French, leaving the audience to figure out what was going on by the emotion of the singers.

  Evermont's box was buzzing with people. He wondered if the dowager duchess had invited everyone or if Evermont had seen to it. He had a lot of connections in the city of lights, and extending invitations was typical of the duke and duchess.

  Immediately, his eyes roamed the box. His eyes locked on the violet ones of a small, dark-haired young woman. She was dressed in a silver gown which fit her curves quite elegantly. Whoever the lady was, she was possibly the most beautiful creature he'd seen in a long time. He had to be introduced.

  Still watching her, Norwood inched closer through the small crowd. She was speaking with a man Norwood recognized as a business associate of Evermont's who sometimes acted as an agent for the duke. Lord Grisham, a Viscount.

  "Lord Grisham, it's good to see you once again. His Grace said I should call on you if I had a chance."

  "And here we are," Grisham s
aid. He turned to the beauty standing next to him. Surely she hadn't arrived with him. "May I present Miss Anna Grover of Hanover. Miss Grover, the Earl of Norwood."

  "Pleased to meet you, Miss Grover," Norwood said, bowing and taking her gloved hand in his.

  "Lord Norwood. A pleasure."

  "Miss Grover is visiting Paris with her brother," Grisham said.

  Norwood nodded. "Have you ever been to London, Miss Grover?"

  "Yes. My brother and I plan to travel there next."

  Of all the luck, she was going to London. He would have to find out more about this enchanting young woman. From what he could tell, Grisham hadn't escorted her. That didn't mean the gentleman wasn't interested.

  The opera soon began, but Norwood couldn't find himself able to get into the music. Instead, his eyes and mind wandered to the lovely Miss Grover. She was sitting next to his mother, watching the stage intently.

  Grisham had introduced her as Hanover. Was she German? Her English was faultless. Perhaps she was related to the Hanover family. The queen's consort perhaps? He smiled to himself. His mother would know everything about the young woman with little effort on her part. She was determined to see her son married. Marriage meant grandchildren to her.

  He swung his eyes back to the stage, but his interest wasn't on the singers. Norwood felt someone watching him. Looking to his left, he noticed Miss Grover staring at him. A smile crossed her lips as she realized she'd been caught. He nodded and smiled back at her. Perhaps this trip would be more fruitful than he anticipated.

  As he stared down at the singers, his mind wandered to more lustful thoughts. What would it be like to bed Miss Grover? His cock certainly had shown an interest. He'd had a cockstand ever since laying eyes on this beautiful and mysterious young woman.

  "She and her brother are my guests. My townhouse is one block over from Evermont's," Grisham whispered from behind him. "If you're interested, call on her tomorrow. Flowers would be a nice touch, too. I understand she loves roses."