The Last Duchess (The Lennox Series)

by Stephanie Feagan

  Rage took hold of her. Fascinated, he watched her eyes grow darker and her cheeks bloom with color. “I will not be unfaithful. I will not cuckold my husband, whom I’ve sworn to honor until I die. And I will not spend the rest of my life with only a bloody warming brick as a bedmate. I believed you understood, but it’s apparent that you do not. Take me home. Immediately.”

  Michael turned the curricle from the main drive onto a meandering path through the trees.

  “This is not the direction of home, Blixford. I insist you turn about, this instant.”

  “We aren’t done, Lady Jane.”

  “I am done. What you do or say is no longer of any consequence to me.” Her gloved hands twisted together, an outward sign of her inner turmoil, which belied the blank expression of her lovely face.

  He turned the curricle once more and after a time, drew to a stop within a small, narrow clearing, the sunlit grass dotted with wee, white flowers nodding in the breeze. He set the brake and loosened his hold on the reins, allowing the horses to graze while he turned his attention to Jane. Reaching for the ribbons of her bonnet, he tugged until they were undone and removed it from her head, laying it aside before he grasped her shoulders and pulled her about to face him. She was so soft, so beautiful, her dark hair gleaming in the sunlight. Once again, she smelled of lemons. How had he never fully appreciated the scent of lemons?

  “If you kiss me, I shall scream. Then I will slap you.”

  “If you scream, I’ll kiss you again. If you slap me, I won’t care. For now, however, I have but one question and beg you do me the honor of answering honestly.”

  She might have doused a blazing fire with her freezing stare. “One question.”

  “Last night, you mentioned additional experiences. I believe you said they were illuminating additional experiences.”

  “If you expect me to tell you anything at all, you’re not nearly so intelligent as I thought.”

  “What I expect you to tell me is whether you responded in the same manner as you did with me, all those years ago in Lucy’s library.”

  “No.”

  He frowned slightly. “No, you won’t tell me, or no, you didn’t respond the same way?”

  “Blixford, you’re a tiresome man! No, I didn’t respond in the same way. In point of fact, it was my total lack of interest which I found so illuminating. Frankly, I didn’t like it. While I’m certain this can only serve to fan the flames of your male importance and give you ammunition with which to wound me at a later date, I tell you only because you asked for honesty. Now will you take me home?”

  His elation could only be disguised pride, surely. “As soon as I’ve kissed you.”

  “You, sir, have been warned.”

  His fingers tightened against her shoulders and he drew her closer to him. “You’re entirely wrong, you know. If I’m cruel, it’s never intentional.”

  “Untrue, Blixford. You were deliberately hateful to me that night. That you could say such things, after ravishing me, is unconscionable.”

  “I have apologized. You have accepted. I prefer never to speak of it again, but I’ll leave the subject by pointing out how very close I was to taking you on the sofa.” He drew her nearer still. “I’m not ordinarily a man given to losing my head, but I was half drunk, feeling rather sorry for myself, and there you were, in your dressing gown, more beautiful, more desirable than any woman I’ve ever known, and you were sneaking a peek at etchings of naked men. You’re an innocent, and have no comprehension of what this signals to a man. Had you not left when you did, we would be married four years now. I’d have bedded you right there in the library, and no amount of running away would keep you from marrying me.”

  Her eyes were wide, her breath quicker. “You said those things because you knew it would make me angry enough to leave?”

  “In retrospect, yes, I believe I did. It’s not my nature to be cruel, and truth be told, I find your choice of pastimes unique and intriguing, no matter the impropriety. So you see, all this talk of me finding you repugnant would be laughable, if you were not so convinced of it, and so certain I’ll be anxious to set you out of my bed.” He would be anxious to do so, but certainly not because he found her undesirable. Ironically, the exact opposite. He found her too desirable, too intriguing, and entirely too tempting in her manner and character. If he stayed too long with Jane, he had no doubt he would become attached, would fall in love with her, and it was simply not something he could allow.

  “You do realize this casts you in something of a bad light?”

  “Of course it does. I appear to be a weak man where you’re concerned, unable to control myself, forced to resort to desperate measures, including abandonment of my manners and regard for you by hurling childish insults. Take now, for instance. You’ve threatened to scream and mete out an injury to my person if I kiss you, but I’m compelled to do it anyway because you’re close enough to smell, so close I can feel the warmth of your body, so close, it would be really very foolish of me not to kiss you.”

  And so he did. She didn’t slap him, nor did she scream.

  His lips met hers and within seconds, he recalled quite clearly why he’d been compelled to ravish her, against his better judgment, almost against his will. She was the essence of vitality, of throbbing, pulsing life, her body an endless, unexplored frontier of soft curves and intriguing scents. She quivered beneath his hands, ever so slightly, as though her very soul shook with passion and desire. He parted his lips and touched hers with his tongue.

  She drew back slightly and whispered, “Promise you won’t lecture me.”

  “Let me in, Jane,” he commanded, slanting his mouth across hers, plunging into her moist heat, sucking her bottom lip between his teeth, kissing her as no gentleman ever kisses a lady. If passion was what she expected, he would give it to her, consequences be damned. He carefully ignored the voice in his head that told him he was powerless to respond to her in any way less than unbridled passion. As he lifted his head and looked down into her dark-blue eyes, her lids heavy with desire, he couldn’t help but compare her to his first three wives. Bedding them had been almost as painful for him as it had been for them. They stoically waited for him to finish and he felt a brute, had even apologized to Grace, for she cried into her pillow, every single time.

  He suspected Lady Jane wouldn’t cry unless she failed to climax, and even then, he’d be the one most likely to cry. She’d surely unman him.

  As his hands fell away from her shoulders and his arms went round her to draw her against him, her arms circled his neck and she gave as good as she got, opening her mouth to him, returning his kiss with a fervor that made a lie of her insistence that she was done with him.

  She was far from done with him, and he was only just beginning with her.

  “I won’t wait a month, Jane,” he murmured against her mouth. “This afternoon, I’ll acquire a special license and we’ll be married tomorrow morning. Is this acceptable to you?”

  “Hmm, yes, good . . . fine . . . ” She tangled her fingers in his hair, knocking his hat off as she kissed him. After a time, she drew back and looked into his eyes. “You will agree, then, to keep me with you, to stay in my bed, to engage in a true marriage?”

  She had to marry him. There was no other choice. He ignored the voice in his head telling him he could, indeed, find another bride. She might be of common stock, perhaps not quite fit to be a duchess, but she’d do. The singular drawback to any other woman was simply that she would not be Jane. With her there, in his arms, her lips plump and pink and wet from his kiss, he knew it had to be Jane. He would figure a way out of the agreement, could, perhaps, convince her it was in her best interest to live apart from him. Later. He’d wait until she conceived and worry about it then. Staring into her lovely eyes, he murmured, “Yes, Jane, I’ll agree.”

  Her response was a blinding smile and another kiss that completely silenced the distant howling in his soul. After a time, she pulled back a bit and grinne
d cheekily. “Blixford, how very odd it will be to see you without your clothes.”

  Michael raised a brow. “I daresay I’ll enjoy seeing your naked body far more than you’ll enjoy mine. You are grace and beauty and mystery, while I . . .” He shook his head. “Men, I’m afraid, are rather awkward. I shall try not to frighten you, Jane.”

  “Don’t be absurd. The only oddity to seeing you naked will simply be that you are naked. You are something of a stick, you know, and oh-so-proper in your manner and dress. I wouldn’t want you to be offended if I wonder at the peculiarity of it all.”

  Humor disappeared and he snatched her close again. “Appearances can be deceiving, Jane. Never make assumptions based upon the face one shows the world. Tomorrow night, you’ll tell me if you still believe me to be a stick.”

  “And you will tell me if you still believe me a hoyden.”

  “A fair trade. Consider it done.” He kissed her once more before he replaced her bonnet and his hat, gathered the reins and released the brake. As he turned about and drove from the clearing, he said, “I believe we may enjoy certain elements of married life, Lady Jane, don’t you?”

  “I concur, Your Grace. We may never love one another, but we will enjoy procreation.”

  We may never love one another. Perhaps she had loved him once, but that was long ago, when she was still not much more than a child.

  It did not matter.

  It could not matter.

  If anything, it was a blessing. They would come together as lovers, but they would not love.

  Yes, that was as it should be.

  They were within sight of the park gates when she asked, “Have you discharged your mistress?”

  His mind flashed to a picture of Miriam’s tear streaked face. “Yes.”

  “Was she overset?”

  “Is it any concern of yours?”

  “Not in the slightest. Was she?”

  “Quite, although I couldn’t be certain how much was true sorrow at my dismissal, or a very pretty act to encourage my guilty conscience to increase the settlement.”

  “I asked you to be generous.”

  “I was beyond generous and downright ridiculous. We will not speak of her again, Jane. Is that clear?”

  “Oh, yes, quite.”

  He noted she was smiling happily. “You are pleased with the turn of events?”

  “Very pleased, Blixford. Thank you. I find I’m anxious for tomorrow to arrive.”

  Turning his attention to the street beyond the gates, Michael realized that while he might be loath to admit it, so was he.

  Chapter 5

  Just after dawn the following morning, Jane soothed her mare, explaining she would have to wait a bit before having her head. “As soon as Blixford arrives, you shall run. Until then, we must be patient.”

  Grendel tossed her head, clearly unhappy with the notion of patience.

  At long last, Blixford appeared, riding toward her at a leisurely pace. Why had he not heeded her request to hurry? Had he assumed her note was sent as a lark, merely meant to entice him for an early morning ride? The man had quite a lot to learn of her.

  “Good morning, Lady Jane,” he said amiably as he rode up. His buckskin riding breeches were tucked into polished, black boots. He wore a black coat and black waistcoat, the darkness broken only by the froth of his white linen shirt and loosely knotted neckcloth. He looked very handsome, as he always did, but clearly, he had dressed in a hurry. In fact, he had forgotten his hat and riding gloves.

  Mollified, but not all together, she said, “You are tardy, Your Grace. This is most annoying. Did you not read my note carefully?”

  “But of course I did. You indicated you had something of great import to tell me and I should meet you at Rotten Row at first light.” He nodded to the east. “I see the sun just peeking out. It is first light, and you, my lady, are your usual termagant self. All is as it should be. Now, what is this news that cannot wait until our wedding?”

  Worrying her bottom lip with her teeth, she allowed Grendel to prance about while she collected her thoughts. How best to tell him? She decided straight out was the only way. Easing the mare to a standstill, she looked across at Blixford, sucked in a deep, calming breath and released it slowly. “I would not go forward with our plans until I have made you aware of certain truths. I believed I could do so, that it would not be of importance, but after a restless, trying night, I find I must tell you. To begin our marriage without truth and honesty would seem the height of stupidity, as well as a dishonor to you and your consequence, both as a duke and a gentleman. I’ll not have you accusing me of any betrayal.”

  His expression grew dark as she spoke. “Suppose you tell me, right out? What is this secret that kept you tossing and turning last night?”

  “You will not be my first.”

  His eyebrows shot up, but he remained silent.

  “I was not forthcoming about MacDougal. It is my hope that what I’m about to say will remain between us, Your Grace. For all that MacDougal grievously wronged me, I do not wish him dead, and were my father and brothers to discover the truth of things, he would most certainly be killed with all due haste.”

  Incredibly, his expression grew darker. Thunderous, even. He nudged his stallion closer to Grendel. “Have you no fear that I pose a similar threat?”

  Oh dear. She had inflamed his masculinity, and his honor. This was not something she anticipated. Treading carefully, she kept her gaze upon his. “My honor was adequately avenged, Blixford. His death will not reinstate my maidenhead. It would, in fact, cause me a great deal of anxiety if he were killed.”

  He set the stallion to walking and jerked his head that she should catch up. Glad to be moving, she did so and their horses walked along Rotten Row. “Perhaps you should tell me all of it, Jane.”

  “Yes, well, you see, MacDougal was quite fond of me. I was fond of him, but failed to realize until after some time that his fondness was of a romantic nature. When this became apparent, I told him I couldn’t return his affections. He was persistent for a time, but eventually, we settled into a companionable friendship.”

  She drew in a deep breath before she continued. “Then MacDougal traveled to Edinburgh on a matter of business, and while there, he met with someone recently from London. He returned home and informed me he knew of my ruination. After that, he began his pursuit of me in earnest. He said I was ruined to London, that I would never secure a husband here, and surely I did not wish to be on the shelf. He wanted to marry me, he insisted. Over time, he wore down my protests. One afternoon, after I received a letter from home, I accepted him. He was quite amorous and assured me he would leave straightaway the next morning to visit my father at Hornsby Grange, that we would be married in two weeks’ time.” She stopped talking and swallowed, the memory paining her. “Instead, that very night his father announced his betrothal to a local lass, who was dining at Castle MacDougal, along with her parents.”

  Blixford was silent for several long minutes. At last, he asked evenly, “What manner of revenge did you plot?”

  Looking ahead, she wondered if he would call off the wedding? “I shot him.”

  “And he did not die?”

  “I did not wish him to die. I wished him to be incapacitated.”

  “How so?”

  Meeting his gaze, she lifted one brow.

  “Good God, Jane! You did not!”

  “He recovered, but I am unclear whether he will ever father children. He took what was not his to take and I took it back. In a manner of speaking.” She faced ahead once more. “There you have it. I am used, Blixford, and I would not marry you without your full knowledge. I’m aware this is something of a prideful thing to a gentleman, and if you care to withdraw your offer, I understand completely. I will cry off, of course, because this is how it’s done. Although I do not believe anyone would be the wiser. The banns not having been read, I daresay no one is aware of our betrothal at this point.”

  They rode in si
lence for quite some time before he asked in a dead calm voice, “Do you wish to marry me, Jane?”

  “I find the notion more appealing every moment I am with you. There was a time when I fancied myself in love with you. In truth, my decision to finally accept MacDougal came on the heels of news from home that you had taken a third bride.” She met his gaze directly. “For all that I despised you at the moment I ran from home, it did not last.”

  “Are you saying that you—”

  “Nothing of the kind, Blixford. I see now that what I felt for you was in the nature of infatuation, a very clear attraction to your person, and your demeanor. Nevertheless, after four years of considerable thought, I am come to the conclusion that I overreacted most grievously and proceeded without reasonable consideration. And I have never forgotten the episode in the library. Nor have I experienced anything remotely like it since.”

  “MacDougal was not—”

  “Sir, he was not. I was overset by the whole matter, wondering what I’d got myself into, imagining myself tied to him for the rest of my life. Afterward, I experienced bitter regret. Then the announcement of his betrothal came and I thought surely I would kill him for his duplicity. Even now, I can elicit enough rage against him to start a fire without a tinder box.” She shrugged one shoulder. “I’ve come to learn, however, that raging against events has little effect on the outcome of things. One must accept and move on, mustn’t one? To do otherwise is surely madness.”

  “Did you return to England because of what transpired?”

  “I returned to England for the reasons I have already told you. I wanted to be closer to my family, I wish to remain in England as I grow older, and I desire a husband and family of my own. As to what transpired, I moved far away from Castle MacDougal and took up residence in Sherbourne’s fishing lodge, actually quite a lovely and spacious cottage. My maiden Cousin Sarah and her plethora of cats moved in with me to act as companion and chaperone. I lived there almost a year, until I received news from home that you were widowed, once again.”