Even the sound of the door closing deepened the thud of tiny men pounding horseshoes in his head.
Thomas’s horrible drink, a bath, and a hearty breakfast had Alex almost feeling like himself. He looked up from his desk as Patience knocked lightly and entered his study. He stood and once again his cock gave rise to the beauty before him. She glowed with vitality. Curls had already escaped her topknot, resting against her smooth cheeks. Her morning dress displayed the tops of her lush breasts. Had he handled them last night? He needed to coax her into his bed soon or all his mornings would start like this one—miserable and hung over.
“Good morning.” Patience offered a warm smile as she took the seat in front of his desk. “I will be busy today planning for our return to London and would like some information.”
Alex leaned back in his chair, regarding her. He could stare at her all day and not get tired of it. Of course, he’d rather stare at her naked, but even dressed very prim and proper as she was now, he found it hard to look away. Every nuance as she spoke, every movement of her head as she asked him questions. The way she bit her lip while taking notes, how she tapped the writing instrument against her chin as she thought of another question.
“I think that is all I needed to know. Oh, one more thing. Will we be attending any social events? It has been more than six weeks since Cyrus passed.”
Six weeks since his life, as he’d known it, had been ripped out from underneath him. He shook his head. It certainly seemed so much longer in some ways, and only a few days in others. One thing that had come to his notice was the ever-present dreams of blood, guts, and war had diminished since he’d sold his colors. Nightmares, which had occurred every night, had dwindled down to only once in a while. Odd, that.
“We will certainly accept invitations to the more sedate affairs, dinner parties, garden parties, and such. In fact, I would like for you to arrange a dinner party. I will give you a list. I think the only events we need avoid are the larger balls.”
“I will leave you to get back to work, then.” She rose and shook out her skirts.
“Wait.” He stood and walked around his desk. “How about a ‘good morning, Your Grace,’ kiss?”
Her eyebrows rose and she gave him a slight smile. “Certainly.” He rested his hip against the desk and pulled her between his spread legs. She stood on her toes and raised her face to him. He was having none of that. Her idea of a kiss and his idea were very different. He reached around her waist and tugged her to him. With his other hand, he cupped her face and his lips descended on hers.
All the agony and desire of the night before flooded him as her body curved into his, and the scent of lavender and mint wafted over him. She pulled back, her hands on his upper arms, and studied him with curiosity. Reclaiming her lips, he crushed her to him.
His hand moved up to caress her breast, his thumb flicking over the nipple. Her eager response had him considering locking the study door, but he knew once he tried to do that she would most likely scoot around him and leave.
Instead, he nudged her mouth open so he could taste her. Sweet morning tea and Patience. All the flavors he loved. He pressed his growing manhood against her belly and then pulled away. “You do know you’re killing me, don’t you, sweetheart?” He brushed back a curl from her face and tucked it behind her ear.
She gazed at him, her mouth slightly open, then seemed to come back to herself. She pulled away and patted her topknot. “I will see you later, Your Grace.” She turned and almost walked into the wall next to the open door.
Despite his physical agony, he grinned at the state in which he’d apparently left her.
He returned to his work, shifting in his chair, still uncomfortable from his raging erection. He had barely calmed down when another knock produced his mother. “Good morning, Your Grace.”
He sighed, closed his eyes, and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Mother, you spent my entire life calling me Alexander.”
She waved him off, his words not worthy of consideration.
“I will be returning to London shortly after you leave. I have informed Her Grace that I wish for her to keep her afternoons open to receive and make calls to all the right people. I also would like you to suggest she see my modiste when we return so she can be properly attired for her new role.”
“Her name is Patience and whatever you think, Mother. I leave all of that to you.”
“As you wish.” As fast as that, she stood and crossed the room.
“Mother?”
She turned, her hand on the latch. “Yes?”
He waited a moment, then shook his head. “Nothing. Have a good day.”
…
Patience tried, unsuccessfully, to stifle a yawn as she waited in the carriage for Alex to join her. The sun hadn’t even made its appearance, and her stomach grumbled, protesting her lack of breakfast, even though Cook had packed plenty of food for their trip. Once Alex gave the word for the driver to leave, she would break into the basket and then take a nap.
The carriage shifted as Alex entered. The cool April morning air arrived with him, and she shivered.
“There are several woolen blankets under the seat,” Alex said, as he settled into his seat across from her.
“Thank you. I believe I will make use of one.”
He reached down and pulled out a red plaid blanket and shook it out, then tucked it around her. “Something smells good. What did Cook pack?”
The carriage started forward, jerking as the horses fell into rhythm, then turned into a smooth pace. “There are sausages, cheese, rolls, and apple tarts.” Patience pulled the cloth aside and reached in, taking out a small basket of rolls, a block of cheese, and sausages wrapped in cloth.
“A feast.” Alex grinned.
They shared the offerings, and then, feeling quite satiated, Patience returned the leavings to the basket and yawned once again. “Oh, I am so sorry, I’m afraid I didn’t get much sleep last night. Polly and I were up late sorting through clothes and packing.”
“Curl up on the seat and take a nap.”
She nodded and stretched out, pulling the blanket over her shoulders. She had barely nodded off when the carriage hit a bump in the road and she fell to the floor. “Ouch.”
Alex leaned down and pulled her up. “You will be much safer, and have a much more pleasant nap, if you lean against me.”
They arranged themselves so Alex leaned his back against the side of the carriage and held her in his arms between his legs. She used his chest as her pillow and tucked the blanket around them. The familiar bergamot scent, along with the warmth from his body, lulled her to sleep almost as soon as she settled in.
“Wake up, sleepyhead,” Alex’s deep voice whispered in her ear, bringing her to consciousness with a delicious feeling of comfort and safety. She wiggled around, and stopped at Alex’s groan. “Don’t do that sweetheart. Please.”
She sucked in a breath when she realized his manhood was fully erect and pressing into her lower back. “Sorry,” she mumbled and moved forward, then turned, knowing her face was quite red.
Alex was kind enough to ignore it as she resumed her prior seat. She just then noticed the carriage had stopped.
“We’re stopping to change horses. I thought you might enjoy a cup of tea, since you missed your breakfast tea this morning.”
“Oh, that sounds wonderful.”
He stepped from the carriage and helped her down. She took his arm, grateful for the support, since she was so stiff from the ride. “You don’t seem to be troubled by sitting for that long. Why am I the only one stiff?”
She didn’t understand the humor in his eyes or the smile on his lips. “Oh, have no fear, sweetheart, I am definitely stiff.”
“Well, you certainly walk better than I do.”
This time he burst out laughing and pushed open the door to the inn and escorted her through. The common room was warm and full of men drinking and eating some type of stew, which smelled wonderful. Her stomach growled again at
the smell.
“It sounds as though we should have a meal as well as tea.”
Patience nodded. “I believe you are correct. Is it near luncheon?”
Alex pulled out his timepiece. “A bit past noon.”
A short, well-rounded man hurried up to them. He bowed at Alex. “Your Grace. And Your Grace,” he said to them. “Thank you so much for allowing us to serve you.” He waved in the direction of a door at the back of the room. “Please follow me to the private dining room, and my wife will attend you.”
They entered the room which was chillier than the air outside. “I apologize for the cold, Your Graces, but I will warm it up in no time. The dampness, you know.”
“That is all right. I don’t expect you to keep the room warm unless we were expected.”
“Thank you, Your Grace. You are so kind.” The man bustled around the room, starting the fire that had already been laid out. Before they even sat, a woman, obviously the innkeeper’s wife, came through the door and gave them a curtsy. She had a tray with tea things on it that she placed on the table in front of them.
“We have a fine mutton stew today, Your Graces. And bread that is just out of the oven.”
“Thank you, ma’am. My wife and I would enjoy a bowl.” Alex smiled at the woman, and she blushed. Patience saw again the young man she’d fallen in love with years ago. His kindness to the merchant class was extremely rare among his rank. It was nice to see that part of him hadn’t changed with the assumption of his title.
The fire had begun to warm her, and within minutes, they had the fragrant stew in front of them, along with the promised fresh-out-of-the-oven bread. They both dug in, light conversation along with expressions of approval over the fare keeping them busy.
Patience wiped her mouth with her napkin just as the innkeeper’s wife entered the room. “Your Grace, if you wish to use the facilities before you leave, I will be happy to direct you.”
“Yes, thank you very much.” Patience followed the woman across the room, then turned to say something to Alex, but stopped. He was striding quickly through the door to the common room, a look of anger on his face.
The same look he’d had at their wedding when he’d abandoned her. Strange.
…
His heart pounding, Alex wended his way through the common room and around the tables filled with patrons eating, drinking, and shouting to each other over the noise of the crowd. He wasn’t completely sure, but it appeared Loverly had been in the common room. If it was him, he had scurried out as soon as Alex had laid eyes on him.
Having his wife with him, it was probably not a good idea to pursue the man, but if it was him, it was obvious they were being followed, which made for a dangerous situation for Patience. He stepped outside, but the only thing in front of the inn was his carriage standing there, along with his driver.
“Did a man come out of the inn right before me?” Alex asked as he approached John Coachman.
“Yes, sir.” The driver waved in the direction they were headed in. “He jumped on a horse and went that way.”
“Do you still have your pistol on you?”
“Yes, Your Grace. I always carry two, and the footmen have two pistols each as well. You can never be too prepared on these roads.”
“Yes, I agree.” He wondered if he should try to hire outriders for the remainder of the trip, then realized if Coachman was correct, Loverly was only one man, and Alex had his own weapons in the carriage. “Be ready to leave shortly.”
“Is anything amiss?” Patience’s concerned look as she joined him outside reminded him he wanted to keep this from her.
“Just fine. I thought I saw someone I knew, but it was not him.”
She seemed to study him for a minute, as if to see if he were lying. She did not look completely convinced, but she accepted his hand and he helped her into the carriage.
Once he returned to London, he would make a visit to the War Department. He had planned to do so, anyway, to get an update on Loverly. But so far, he seemed to be the one with the most information, having spotted him twice.
Patience remained awake for the second part of their day’s trip. It was pleasant to pass the time with her, especially when she talked a great deal, because he was able to study her and see once again the young girl he’d planned to make his wife…before their fathers had stepped in.
“You’ve told me that the years I was gone your marriage plans never came to fruition for various reasons. How did you spend your time?”
She looked as though she did not want to answer the question, but eventually she said, “For the first two years, I remained at my parent’s home in Suffolk. Mother had me trained in the duties of a duchess. She spent a great deal of money on dance masters, pianoforte lessons, watercolor lessons, and such.”
“Did you have an opportunity to visit London?”
“Yes, I had a Season, but it was limited. There was no point in my coming-out since I was unofficially betrothed.” She shook her head. “We did go to London once or twice besides that, and mother and I attended a few soirees and a ball or two.”
“Did not Cyrus call on you while you were in London to escort you to these events? To take you to see the sights and attend the theater?”
It took a minute to answer, then she looked out the window of the carriage “No. He sent flowers and notes, but he was always busy.” She shrugged. “Honestly, I did not mind. The few times we were together, I was uncomfortable.”
Alex felt his muscles tense and attempted to keep his voice even. “Why were you uncomfortable with your betrothed?”
Turning from the window, she raised her chin and stared him in the eyes. “He scared me. He reminded me too much of my father.”
His blood churning even more, he moved forward until their knees were touching. “Did he do something in particular to frighten you? Did he hurt you, or—”
“There is really no need to discuss this. Cyrus is dead, and we must move on with our lives.” She paused and then continued, “I feel as though I have had enough of bullies to last a lifetime.”
Alex wondered if that last comment was directed at him. He supposed his high-handed ways, and insistence that she marry him, could seem like bullying. He was sure there were other times he’d come across a bit overbearing, as well. Being in command of men at such a young age, along with all that he’d seen, had indeed hardened him. He did not pursue the topic of Cyrus. Patience was clearly distressed. Knowing his brother as he did, it was more than likely he’d shown her the ugly side of himself. And even if he had done something to scare her, there was nothing he could do about it now. There was no way to beat the bloody hell out of a dead man.
The sun sat low in the sky, but still above the horizon when the carriage rolled to a stop in front of The Fox and the Hound Inn. While a youth, Alex had stayed there when he had traveled with his family to London.
“I am so very glad to be out of this carriage,” Patience said as she accepted his hand and stepped down. “And do not tell me you are stiff and walking just fine.”
Again he had to suppress his laughter at her misunderstanding of the word “stiff.”
“No, I can assure you, my dear, I am nowhere near as stiff as I was this morning.”
He took a good look around as they exited the carriage. Of course, if Loverly was traveling on a horse, he would be miles ahead, unless he was purposely tracking them. He was just grateful he had sufficient protection as they traveled the roads.
The carriage carrying Thomas and Polly rolled to a stop behind them. Patience stayed to speak with Polly, and after gesturing to the footmen keep an eye on his wife, Alex entered the inn.
He consulted with the innkeeper for a few minutes, who bowed to Patience as she joined Alex. “Good evening Your Grace. I have a lovely room for you and His Grace that I am sure you will find acceptable.”
Patience stopped and glanced at Alex. “One room?”
He grinned at the man who was looking a little nerv
ous at Patience’s remark.
“That will be just fine, my man, just fine.” He waved at the stairs. “Lead the way.”
Chapter Fifteen
Patience stared at the large bed in the very small room. Truly, the bed was no bigger than her own bed at home, but now that she knew they would both sleep in that bed, it loomed large in her eyes.
And her mind.
“Would you prefer dinner in our room, or if you are not too fatigued, we can eat in the private dining room.”
Although she was weary from the day, the thought of eating dinner while staring at the bed drove her to perk up a bit. “No, not at all. I think after a wash and a change of clothes, I will be more than happy to eat downstairs.”
Alex bowed. “As you wish. I will leave and send Polly to attend you. Send her down when you are ready, and I will come up to escort you.”
“That is unnecessary. I can certainly walk downstairs myself.”
His appearance and bearing changed once again to the demeanor she’d seen before. Anger, mixed with impatience that she questioned him.
It was taking her some time to come to grips with this man who was so different from who she remembered and had dreamed about for years. But then, he’d gone through a war and had unexpectedly been thrust into the title of duke. Of course, those circumstances would change a man.
“No, sweetheart, you are to wait for me. Understand?” He touched her lightly on her cheek, and she had the urge to lean her face into his strong warmth. In fact, with her fatigue and the closeness they shared all day in the carriage, she found the idea of them sleeping in the bed quite pleasing.
“I will wait for you, then.”
She splashed warm water from the pink-and-white flowered pitcher into the bowl while Alex went below to summon Polly.
Polly helped her change from her dusty gown and pelisse into a pale blue muslin gown. Instead of bothering with the topknot again, Polly brushed her hair and tied it at the back of her neck with a deep blue ribbon. Quite pleased with her restored appearance, Patience sat on the edge of the bed and waited for Alex to escort her. While she remained in the room, she again examined the oddness of her husband’s behavior. The abrupt disappearance at their wedding, and then again at the inn earlier. Then his seeming annoyance at her merely suggesting she was capable of walking from her room to the private dining room.
Denying the Duke (Lords & Ladies in Love) Page 14