Denying the Duke (Lords & Ladies in Love)

by Callie Hutton

  Another long prayer, along with the singing of a psalm followed, before the couple turned to face the small gathering. Patience grasped his arm as she lifted her skirts and they started down the aisle. The tension in her body had seemed to ease now that the service was over. They made their way to the door of the church where they, the vicar, Hawk, and Miss Suzanna Blake signed the parish marriage register.

  “Felicitations, Bedford.” Hawk gripped his shoulder. “You’re the first to marry. I hope it’s not contagious.”

  Miss Blake stifled a giggle as she took her place alongside Patience. She seemed to be a sweet young lady. Alex had met her for the first time the evening before at dinner. Another event that had kept him and Patience from having any time alone together.

  The last of the guests filed out—to the Abbey for the wedding breakfast—when Alex placed Patience’s hand on his arm to lead her from the church. He looked out at the attendees and came to an abrupt halt as his heart gave a jerk. He tugged Patience a little closer to his side and stared at the back of a man hurrying away. There was no doubt in his mind. He’d spent a year looking for him and weeks on a ship holding him prisoner. An unexpected guest at his wedding.

  Lord Loverly.

  …

  Patience felt the tension in Alex’s arm. She looked up at him, and he appeared pale and distracted, his lips tight. “Are you well?”

  He patted her hand, staring off into the distance. “I am well, my dear. Please excuse me for a minute.”

  And then he was gone.

  Patience watched him stride away, as if on a mission. He stopped to talk to his three friends, and they all scattered in different directions, just as determined as Alex. It took her a few moments to compose herself, then she turned to the now dowager duchess and her parents. “I believe His Grace will join us shortly. Shall we retire to the Abbey and greet our guests?”

  “Whatever possessed him to walk off like that?” The dowager sniffed and frowned at Patience as if she were the one who had committed such a faux pas.

  “I am quite certain ’tis an important matter.” She waved in the direction of the Bedford carriage. “Shall we?”

  They all moved to the waiting vehicles, forming a queue to head to the Abbey. A long string of local townsfolk lined the pathway to cheer for the duke and his new duchess. Patience waved to those assembled, feeling rather foolish with Alex missing.

  It took less than a half hour to arrive at the Abbey’s front door. The driver helped the earl down, who turned to help Mother, the dowager, and then her, out of the carriage.

  Still confused, Patience did her best to appear as if everything was perfectly normal. She entered the house and greeted the guests, who had arrived before them and had been directed to the ballroom where the wedding breakfast would take place.

  Mother pulled her aside. “Where did His Grace go?”

  Patience whispered back. “I don’t know. But I am sure whatever it was he won’t let it take too long.”

  No more than ten minutes had passed before the four men strode through the ballroom door, shoulder to shoulder. They all wore frowns, which Alex wiped from his face when he spotted her. He came to her side and took her hands. “I am sincerely sorry for abandoning you like that.”

  “What was that all about?”

  “Do not trouble yourself over it.” He kissed her knuckles and nodded to the butler to announce breakfast. Linking their hands, he led her to the table.

  Well, then.

  Alex’s abruptness, and dismissal of her concerns, stung. Apparently, this marriage was not to be a sharing one. It was somewhat unorthodox to abandon one’s bride barely after the vows were spoken to go on some type of a hunt with one’s friends.

  It was a small gathering, no more than about seventy guests. Lord Hawkins, Mr. Templeton, and Lord Campbell offered several toasts. They also volunteered several jokes and innuendos to Alex during the meal. The more ribald ones were mumbled so only she and Alex could hear. She tried her best to keep her blush down.

  Despite Alex’s pretense, it was obvious something troubled him. He glanced several times at his friends who all exchanged a look that had her confused. They were certainly a group of handsome, powerful men. The type of men whose presence one could never ignore.

  Except her cousin, Suzanna. Patience had seen Mr. Templeton casting glances in her direction and attempting a conversation with her. Suzanna was polite, but certainly not impressed with the man, or at all encouraging. That caused her to smile. As much as she loved her cousin, Suzanna had a certain loftiness about her. She had sworn, from the time they were children, that she would only marry a man with a title.

  Cook had gone out of her way to prepare a lovely breakfast consisting of warm rolls, eggs, ham, baked trout, bacon, chocolate, and of course, a wedding cake.

  The orchestra played in the background until the guests had finished their meal, at which time the doors were opened to the rest of the ballroom and the guests danced for a few hours.

  Patience waltzed with her father, while her new husband huddled with his three friends. Based on their expressions, something serious was afoot, but she was apparently not to be a part of it. Instead, she smiled and nodded to everyone as the afternoon and early evening passed. Another light repast was provided for the remaining guests.

  Alex approached her and held out his hand. “I have arranged for a meal to be sent to our bedchamber. Come, it is time to leave.”

  Patience stiffened her spine for the coming confrontation. Over the past few weeks she had come to a resolution. If His Grace, the Duke of Bedford wished to marry her to prevent him from having to go through the rigors of finding, courting, and proposing—properly—to his bride, then he apparently wished for a marriage of convenience.

  His convenience.

  Very well, a marriage of convenience he would have.

  …

  Alex led Patience from the ballroom and up the stairs to the ducal suite of rooms. He was not yet comfortable here himself. Since his assumption of the title, he had spent most of his time in London, where the duke’s chambers were smaller.

  Once he closed the door, he drew Patience into his arms and slowly bent his head. He took her mouth in a gentle kiss. She kissed him back, all ingenuousness and inexperience. Just as he was getting comfortable, she drew away. “I will ring for Polly so she can help me out of my gown.”

  His cock stood up and cheered. “Of course, my dear. Dinner should be here by the time you return.”

  She gave him a sweet smile and turned to the door connecting the two rooms. Her hips swayed delightfully underneath the gown as she strolled away from him. He would really have preferred to be her lady’s maid tonight, so he could kiss each delectable inch of her skin as he removed her garments.

  Allowing for her innocence, he permitted her to go. He pulled his cravat off and tugged at the cuffs of his jacket. He’d given his valet, Thomas, the evening off.

  Once he’d stripped all his clothes off, he struggled with what he should wear. He preferred to wear only a banyan, but considering this was their wedding night, and he had an innocent bride, he pulled on a pair of breeches and a loose linen shirt, opened at the neck and tucked into his pants.

  He wandered over to the sideboard next to the huge window near the also huge bed, and poured a glass of brandy. He had taken a sip when there was a scratch at the door. Two footmen entered, carrying a table and a tray of food. They quickly set everything up and left the room.

  Alex checked his timepiece. Since he had no idea how long it would take a bride to prepare herself for her wedding night, he tamped down his impatience and had another drink.

  He was staring into the darkness through the window when the door between their rooms opened and Patience appeared. He frowned at her appearance. She had taken her hair down, and it had been brushed to a glowing sheen in the candlelight, cascading over her shoulders. Shoulders that were covered in wool material.

  She had changed from her wedding
gown into a serviceable gray woolen gown. Said gown went all the way down to her wrists and all the way up to her throat. She looked like a damn governess. The only thing missing was an absurd little ruffled cap on her head.

  Alex took a deep breath and told himself to calm down. She was probably nervous. He would take his time and work on relaxing her. “You look lovely, Patience.”

  She smiled. Not the sort of smile he would expect from a nervous bride, more of a smirk. Nevertheless, he moved to the bottle of champagne on the table and poured them both a glass. He handed one to her and raised his. “Here is to a wonderful life together.”

  “Yes. A wonderful life.” She took a sip, then placed the glass on the table. “Perhaps we should eat.”

  Something was wrong. He was not sure what it was, but Patience was not herself. Or perhaps she was still angry with him over the botched proposal. Well, they would eat and then he would use all the persuasive skill he’d learned over the years to remove that ghastly gown and steer her toward the bed.

  He held out her chair and she sat. As she reached for a roll, he covered her hand with his. “I hope you are not still angry with me. I know I behaved in a somewhat imperious manner, but I could not stand to see you wed to that lecher.”

  “’Twas very nice and noble of you to rescue me, Your Grace.”

  Alex put his fork down and stared at her. “I did not rescue you.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “Well, perhaps it appeared that way.” When he saw her raised eyebrows, he continued, “All right, then maybe I did rescue you, but you needed rescuing.”

  Bloody hell. What was this all about? He knew he should have had a lengthy conversation with her before the wedding, but it had become impossible for them to be alone at all.

  Patience picked up her fork and calmly began to eat. Alex gulped down his champagne and poured more into his glass. “Would you care for more champagne?”

  “No thank you.” She nodded to the goblet next to her plate. “I still have a full glass.” She slid a piece of chicken into her mouth and licked her lips, then slowly chewed, all the time staring at him.

  “Patience, what are you doing?”

  She regarded him wide-eyed. “Excuse me, Your Grace?”

  He hopped up from his seat and paced. “Let’s start with ‘Your Grace.’ When did you forget my name?”

  “I haven’t forgotten it, Alex.”

  “Good.” He sat back down. “Now let’s get to the important things. Why are you wearing that hideous gown?”

  She glanced down at herself. “Hideous? I don’t think it is so hideous.”

  “Patience.” He snarled. “I ask you again, what is going on?”

  Raising her chin, her eyes flashed. “Very well. Alex. What is going on is I am tired of being treated like an object for sale. Oh, don’t get me wrong, I realize that under the law, married women are no more than mere possessions for husbands to do with as they will.

  “However, I resented being forcefully betrothed as a young girl to a man I loathed, and then when he died in a situation that had all the ton snickering at me, I am almost forced into a betrothal with another man who is even worse, and then you rush in to rescue me, after admitting you did not want to be bothered with all the annoyance of courting.” She stabbed a piece of meat with her fork and waved it at him. “Not once were my feelings considered. By anyone.”

  She dropped the fork and took a deep breath. Then throwing down her napkin, she stood. “You told me, quite clearly, that marrying me was a way for you to avoid all the messiness of finding a bride. She is handy, so I might as well marry her. I am a mere convenience.”

  Patience pushed her chair back and stepped away from the table, tears shimmering in her eyes. “You have your wish, Your Grace. You have your marriage of convenience.”

  With these words, she stiffened her shoulders and marched from the room. Alex stared after her, slack-jawed, as the door between their bedchambers slammed shut. A portrait of one of his ancestors fell to the floor.

  A marriage of convenience?

  What the hell!

  Chapter Twelve

  Alex stared at the door for a minute, then stormed across the room, flinging the door open. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  Patience had obviously been waiting for him because she stood facing the door, arms crossed, tapping her foot. “What does what mean, Your Grace?”

  “A marriage of convenience? Do you know what that means?”

  “I believe I do.” She dropped her arms and sat at her dressing table, brushing her long, lush hair.

  She was driving him crazy. All he wanted to do was rip off that detestable gown and toss her on the bed. “So, you are denying me my husbandly rights?”

  She spun around on the chair. “Denying is such an ugly word, don’t you think?”

  Alex sat on the bed, facing her, his legs spread. He leaned his elbows on his thighs. “You are aware that I need an heir?”

  Patience nodded.

  “And I assume somewhere along the line your mother explained to you the connection between time spent in bed together and the appearance of an heir?”

  Her cute little nose rose in the air. “Yes. I am fully aware of the procedure…and the results.”

  “Fine. Then how do you propose I gain an heir if you deny me?”

  Turning her back on him, she said, “I want to be courted.”

  “Courted?”

  She nodded.

  She wanted to be courted. They’d almost run away together four years ago, and he’d spent those four years trying to forget her because she could never be his. Since his return, he’d had a hard time keeping his hands off her.

  They were married.

  And now she wanted to be courted?

  Alex rose and walked over to her. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he leaned down to speak softly in her ear. She studied him through the mirror. “I am so sorry I was unable to pay you court during the last few weeks. I had several obligations.” He ran his palms up and down and felt her lean back into him. “Why don’t I help you out of this gown and we can get into bed and talk about it?”

  “No.”

  Not one to give up so easily, he brushed her hair aside to rest over her shoulder, covering her breasts, and kissed the soft skin on her neck. The tiny spot not covered by the hideous gown. She gave a soft moan and her body softened. Encouraged, he unfastened the top two buttons on the back of her gown and continued moving his lips down as he uncovered her silky skin. “You are so beautiful, Patience. You have no idea how much I want you.”

  Two more buttons.

  He turned her in the chair and slid the gown from her shoulders. She didn’t fight him, so he grasped her shoulders and pulled her up. He cupped her face and bent his head to kiss her plump lips. She tasted like champagne and something only Patience. The memories came flooding back of when they still had hopes of their future together. Except the future was now, and he wanted her even more than he had then.

  The gown dropped to the floor, leaving her in petticoats and corset. Alex shoved his fingers into her silky locks, plundering her mouth. His hand moved down to cup her full breast, but Patience stiffened and pulled back. “No.”

  He lessened his hold on her and she stepped back, covering her chest with her hands. “We will not be doing this.”

  Alex moaned and held his hands out. “Patience, it is our wedding night. Do you have any idea how much I have looked forward to this?”

  Patience bent to pick up her gray gown and held it against her body. “I would like to retire now. I am quite fatigued from the day.”

  Alex couldn’t believe it. She was serious. She had no intention of allowing him into her bed.

  My wife.

  When faced with a formidable enemy, and seriously outflanked, sometimes retreat was the best maneuver. He executed a formal bow. “As you wish, Your Grace. I will see you in the morning.” With as much dignity as he could muster, he turned on his heel and left the room, wishing his
erection into perdition, but having no success.

  The uneaten dinner, a bottle of champagne, and an empty bed greeted him. What the devil was he to do with the rest of his night? He could join his friends, who he was sure were in the billiard room, making free with his French brandy, but he was not in the mood to face their questions and raised eyebrows.

  With a sigh, he poured a glass of brandy and settled at his desk with a piece of vellum and pen. Tomorrow he would visit the War Department and report what he had seen earlier. It had been Loverly hurrying away from the church, but by the time he and the others had gone in search of him, he was gone.

  Alex made some notes and then settled back in the chair. Why had Loverly been at his wedding? If the man had intended to speak with him, he wouldn’t be foolish enough to pick such an occasion to do so. And what did he want with him, anyway? The War Department had notified everyone in the field of his escape. It seemed to him the man should be hiding at the London docks to stow away on one of the ships.

  Trying to figure out what the traitor was doing, and why he was near the Abbey, kept him busy not thinking about Patience. The warm, soft woman he’d made his wife today, who by rights should be underneath him right now. Naked and wanting as he thrust into her moistness.

  Instead he was spending his wedding night trying to figure out the twisted mind of a traitor.

  …

  Patience awoke to the sounds of Polly moving around the bedroom. She lay there a minute, thinking about the night before. That Alex had respected her decision to not consummate the marriage until he courted her said a lot about his character. Not that she was surprised, of course. He’d always been honorable. Which was probably why he’d walked away from her when his father had announced the betrothal to his brother.

  It had not been easy pushing him away last night, but it was important for her to set some rules. She did, indeed, want to be courted. Didn’t every young woman? Walks in the moonlight, stolen kisses in darkened corners, flowers, dances? She’d had none of that since she had been betrothed so young, and to a man who had eschewed anything romantic. While girls her age had been giggling with gentlemen, making eyes over fans, and dropping handkerchiefs, she had stood by, watching and knowing she would never have love, or even affection in her marriage. In fact, based on what she knew about Cyrus, she wasn’t even sure she would have received respect.