The Duke's Bride: Regency Romance (Regency Brides Book 1)

by Joanne Wadsworth

  “Do you feel like a race?” Poole smiled knowingly at her, as if he too wished to let loose and ride like the wind.

  “Yes, I’d love a race.”

  “To the lake’s edge then, where the large oak sits,” he instructed her. “Do you know the spot?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Excellent.” He cast a glance over his shoulder and shouted the same instructions to the driver, that they were to race to the lake and to follow them as they were able.

  Oh goodness. She’d need at least a minute or two’s head start if she wished to win this race. She thrust her knees into her mare’s sides and bolted, then keeping her head tucked close to her horse’s neck, she weaved through the trees and galloped across the grassy meadow, the pounding of horse’s hooves thundering close behind her.

  “You cheat!” Poole caught up to her with a laugh, his eyes bright and his hat tucked under one arm so it didn’t fly off. His stallion snorted air, his sleek black coat gleaming in the sunshine. They were magnificent, man and beast both.

  “I thought you told me to start.”

  “I did no such thing.”

  “You’re supposed to say you did. A lady is never wrong.”

  Another burst of laughter. “I see your competitive nature follows you from the dancefloor to the countryside.”

  “It follows me everywhere I go.” She laughed too, the silk ties of her hat fluttering under her chin. “Although I won’t be shown up without a fight.”

  “What if I give you to the count of ten before I give the call for our actual race to begin.”

  “That sounds perfect.” She snapped her reins, lunged forward and rode as fast as her horse could carry her. Under tree limbs, she ducked, then jumped the odd log. Poole caught up to her within a mere minute then passed right by and drat it all, the captain disappeared through the bushes up ahead and when she finally cleared the woods and the lake’s grassy edge loomed up ahead, the ancient oak tree with its wide boughs reaching toward the sky, he’d already tethered his horse to a branch and laid on the grass with his arms crossed behind his head as if he’d been whiling away the day for hours.

  Cheeks hot, she jumped to the ground and looped her reins loosely around the branch next to his, her mare easily able to reach the water for a drink.

  Breathlessly, she dropped onto the grass beside Poole and giggled. “Well, you won that race fair and square.”

  “The first win of many races to come, I hope.” Grinning, he rolled onto his side and propped his head into his cupped palm. “You’re a delight to be around, Ellie, like a ray of sunshine that spreads its warmth to all those close at hand.”

  “You are too kind.”

  More hoofbeats thundered beyond the bushes and she snuck a look over her shoulder just as a horse and rider tore out of the woods, the big black beast a thoroughbred for certain, the rider holding a sleek mane of dark shoulder-length hair and a white shirt billowing in the breeze. The rider’s piercing blue gaze captured hers and her heartbeat pounded. “Oh my.”

  “Well, well.” A nostalgic smile from the captain. “It appears the Duke of Ashten is no longer in self-exile.”

  “Yes, and it’s wonderful to see.” She wanted to clap and shout her excitement. “It also appears we’re about to be interrupted.”

  “It does. I’ll go and ask Ashten if he wishes to join us, particularly since it appears that’s his current intention.” Poole rose and ambled across to Ashten, then shook his hand and gestured for the duke to join them.

  Ashten looped his reins around a branch as she and Poole had done, then he unstrapped his cane and limped across. Standing over her, he pulled his riding gloves off, pocketed them and eyed her speculatively. “It’s such a beautiful day that I decided to take a ride in the park. I wasn’t sure I’d even come across you and Poole, what with the hundreds of acres where you could have hidden.”

  “We’re not hiding.”

  “You’re without a chaperone.”

  “Penny won’t be far away, and we indulged in a race, which is why I’m currently without her.” The clatter of the curricle’s wheels over the uneven ground echoed through the trees. “See, there she is.”

  “I’ll fetch the blanket and basket I brought.” Poole strode across the thick grass and disappeared beyond the bushes.

  “Ellie?” Ashten lowered to a crouch, set his cane on the ground next to her and gently tucked a loose lock of her hair behind her ear, his gaze locked tight with hers.

  “Yes?”

  He gulped, his throat working and worry flickering in his eyes.

  “Is something wrong?”

  “No, but you have the most adorable ears, and the most adorable nose too. Have I ever told you that?”

  “No.” Her belly fluttered, although she sternly told herself not to let his words mean anything more than what they were.

  “You’ve the most beguiling golden eyes and pouty lips as well.”

  “Oh.” Perhaps he did mean more.

  “Don’t go to the playhouse with Mr. Tidmore, or out on another ride with Poole.” A firm look in his eyes.

  “Is there a reason why I shouldn’t, Your Grace?”

  “Pierce.” His gaze narrowed. “Say my name. I love it when you do, particularly all breathy and with need blazing in your eyes.”

  “I’ve never said your name in such a way.”

  “Yes, you have, in my rear gardens, near the fishpond, within my gazebo under a moonlit sky. We danced. We kissed. You called me Pierce, and I wanted to devour you.” He traced a finger over her lower lip. “All I’ve dreamed about since that moment is kissing you again.”

  “Yet you also told me at the time that you don’t wish for a wife. Does that remain the case?” Hope flickered in her heart.

  “No, I’ve still no desire for one.”

  Chapter 9

  Voices traveled through the bushes, that of Ellie’s maid and Captain Poole. Ashten rose from his crouch next to Ellie and accepted the blanket Poole held out to him. He spread the blue and white tartan out and offered Ellie a hand to scoot onto it, while her maid remained near the horses, affording them suitable privacy while still keeping them in her sight.

  Ellie tugged the ribbons holding her hat in place and set it beside her, then pulled the pins from either side of her head and ran her fingers through her golden locks, which cascaded down her back in a glorious fall of soft waves.

  “Do you care for some red wine?” Poole removed a bottle from his picnic basket and held out the bottle for Ellie’s examination.

  “Oh, yes, please. Let me find the glasses.” She rummaged through the basket and extended them as Poole poured. “I don’t believe I’ve seen that marker on a wine bottle before. It appears to be the letter S enclosed within a laurel wreath.”

  “This bottle is from a delightful vineyard I found in Spain. I wished to bring an entire case back after first sampling it, but with my need to travel light, unfortunately I couldn’t.” Poole slipped the bottle back in the basket, then accepted the glass Ellie handed him.

  She sipped delicately from her stemmed flute. “Mmm, it’s delicious.”

  Hell, naught was more obvious that this was a date for two. This outing, in every way, rung of a courtship. Ellie and Poole had enjoyed a ride through the park and the captain had even packed a bottle of his favorite wine, the only bottle he’d brought all the way back with him from Spain. Good grief. Why the blazes had he followed her and his comrade here? Yes, he’d been driven to, had been immensely worried that Poole was indeed the man she intended on eloping with, but there was far more to it than that. Since the moment his Ellie had forced her way into his bedchamber, his good sense had completely deserted him.

  “Would you like to try some?” Holding out her glass, Ellie smiled at him.

  “I’m not thirsty, but thank you all the same.” He should leave and let them enjoy their date. Poole was a good man, would keep her safe should he be the one about to elope with her.

  “
You must be thirsty after your ride.” She waved the glass in front of his nose this time, a teasing glimmer lighting her eyes. “Or are you scared of sharing my glass?”

  “That is an absurd thing to say.” Jaw clenched, he accepted the glass and sipped from the same spot along the rim as she had. Three was a crowd, and he was most definitely the third in their crowd. He truly should leave.

  “Mmm, I’m famished too.” Ellie peeked inside the basket then withdrew several cut sandwiches and removed the wrappings. “It appears we have roast beef and tomato, or chicken and cheese sandwiches. What would you like, Bradley?”

  “You choose first,” Poole offered with a tender smile, which he wanted to wipe from his friend’s face with his fist. While he’d had to demand Ellie call him by his first name, she seemed to have no issue letting loose with Poole’s first name, here, there, and everywhere.

  “Chicken and cheese for me then.” She set her sandwich on a plate and handed Poole two of the others on another plate, before offering Ashten a couple of beef sandwiches. “Don’t tell me you’re not hungry.”

  He didn’t, but instead muttered, “Thank you.”

  Facing his foe again, his Ellie smiled ever so brightly. “Bradley, I’d love to hear all about Spain, about the people there. What are they like?”

  “They’re resilient and strong, and even though their battle against Napoleon isn’t done, they’ll never allow the Corsican to take their country.”

  “I fear for them.”

  “As we all do. Liberation Napoleon calls it, but the Spanish people have a very crafty way of dealing with him. Ambushes, sabotage, and raids. It’s all been rather refreshing fighting at their side and seeing their tactics firsthand.”

  “Everywhere the Corsican goes he wreaks carnage. At times, I can barely stomach hearing his name.” She bit into her sandwich then gently laid her hand on Ashten’s arm while keeping her gaze on Poole. Her comforting move twisted his heart and made him long for her all over again. She understood him so damn well, how soul-destroying fighting in Spain had been for him and even though conversing with another man, she’d reached out to him to offer him her unequivocal support.

  Poole cleared his throat. “The Spanish people love their land too much to ever allow it to be taken by another.”

  “I do wonder why Napoleon ever believed they’d welcome him onto their soil.” She sipped her wine. “Regardless of the war though, I’m told Spain is beautiful.”

  “Its beauty is certainly undeniable. Stunning beaches, charming countryside, and fertile vineyards with the best wine on offer.” Poole crossed his ankles as he cast his gaze out over the rippling waters of the Serpentine. “But of course, there is also plenty of devastation too.”

  “At least we’ve been able to maintain our ability to trade with the Spanish.” Another bite of her sandwich.

  “Agreed. None of us will permit Napoleon to fully destroy their fine country.”

  Footsteps crunched through the leaf-strewn grass and the driver of Ellie’s curricle strode around the bushes and halted before the captain, a folded note in one hand. “Excuse me, sir, but a rider just handed me this missive from Major Lord Bishophale and he now awaits your response at the curricle. The man isn’t permitted to leave without one.”

  “Let me see it.” Poole accepted the note and broke the seal. He scanned the missive, a frown furrowing his brow.

  “Is all well?” Ellie’s voice hitched with worry.

  “The War Office is requesting my brother and I attend an urgent meeting and Bishophale has already ridden for the Horse Guards in Whitehall. He conveys the need for me to join him there immediately.”

  “Then you must leave.”

  “Yes, I’m so sorry to be bringing our delightful day to an end.” Poole patted Ellie’s hand. “I can see you safely home first, have no fear there.”

  “You’ll have to ride out of your way to take me home. No, I shall simply hold you up. I can make my own way home. My maid and driver will see me safely back.”

  “I can see the lady home if you wish.” Ashten would never allow Ellie to make her own way home, whether Poole conceded his agreement or not.

  “You have my thanks, Ashten. I shall most certainly take you up on that offer.” Poole rose to his feet, bowed curtly over Ellie. “I shall make this up to you. I give you my word I will.”

  “Think nothing of it.”

  “Finish the wine. There is no need for it to go to waste. I pray you will enjoy your day.”

  “Ride safely.”

  “I shall.” Poole loped across to his horse, mounted and with a wave, charged through the woods.

  “I hope all is well at the War Office.” Ellie gripped his arm. “What would cause his brother to send such an urgent message to him?”

  “There could be a number of reasons, but don’t fear over what they might be. Bishophale and Poole will have things in hand. They are well versed in this war.”

  “Yes, I know you’re right, but I’ve always been such a worrywart.” She went quiet, very quiet, which was most unlike his Ellie.

  “I truly shall see you safely home, and if you want to leave now, simply say so and we can be on our way.”

  “No, I’d rather sit here and enjoy this fine day.” Her frown receded and she pulled away and busied herself riffling through the basket once more. “Oh, look at this. We have apricots.”

  “I love apricots.”

  “I’ll feed you.” Smiling, she held one to his lips. “Open your mouth.”

  “I’m not five. I can feed myself, thank you very much.”

  “Of course you can, but will that be any fun?” She arched a challenging brow. “I insist.”

  “I detest it when you insist.” Still, he opened his mouth and when she popped the apricot between his lips, he snapped his mouth over both the fruit and her fingers.

  She giggled. “You can be so playful at times. I’d forgotten that.”

  “You can be too trusting.”

  “Do you remember that day when I followed you and Harry back to Blackgale Park and you and my brother raided the apricot tree?”

  “Harry and I filled a large pail each then took our haul down to the stream. We ate until our bellies bulged.” That day would forever be etched in his memory.

  “Yes, and you and Harry both looked quite ill afterward.”

  “Harry said I couldn’t eat as many apricots as him. I had to prove him wrong.”

  “You two only offered me one apricot from each of your pails. I thought that most unfair.”

  “We didn’t want to spoil your appetite before dinner.”

  “No, you didn’t want to share.” Her golden eyes sparkled, her smile wide. “Let me make another dare now, on behalf of Harry since he isn’t here.”

  “You want to see who can eat the most apricots from that basket?”

  “No, I wish to dare you to come to the Campton’s War Society Charity Masquerade Ball, and while you’re there, to sign your name on my dance card.”

  He was tempted, incredibly tempted. “That kind of a dare should go two ways.”

  “Name you dare and I’ll honor it.”

  “Send your maid away right now.” What the hell was he doing asking that?

  “That’s your dare?”

  “Yes.”

  “But I can’t do that. We’d be left alone and if anyone saw us, there’d be talk, then you’d be honor bound to offer for me, and we both know you don’t wish to take me as your wife. Your words, not mine.”

  “This spot is completely secluded.” Gah, he needed to shut his mouth.

  She glanced about, her brows pinched together as if she was actually considering his dare, then she called out to Penny, “Take a walk if you like, but don’t let the groomsman see you wandering about.”

  “Are you sure, my lady?”

  “Yes, very sure. The duke is like a brother to me, and we wish to speak in private.”

  “As you wish.” Her maid dutifully bobbed her head and d
isappeared into the trees.

  “Done.” Ellie brushed her hands together, looking incredibly gleeful as she did.

  “I’d rather you ceased comparing me to Harry.” Particularly since his current thoughts were anything other than brotherly. He wanted her underneath him, her beautiful bosom exposed to his hands and his mouth on her luscious nipples.

  “You’re not wheedling your way out of this dare. I expect to see you at the masquerade, and to have my dance. I’m also not giving away what my costume shall be, or the mask I shall wear. You will have to do your very best to find me.” She unbuttoned her royal blue riding jacket and laid it on the grass beside her. “The day is warming up beautifully.”

  “You are such a scamp.” There would be hundreds of costumed people in the ballroom and even if he did decide to accept her dare and attend, he might never be able to find her.

  “Yes, but you’ve always known that.” She held out another apricot. “Care for another bite, Your Grace.”

  “You are riding the fine line of trouble between us.” So was he. He crossed his arms behind his head, settled on his back and opened his mouth. Gads, why couldn’t he halt his atrocious behavior? “Feed me.”

  “No mischief this time.” She leaned over him, pressed the apricot to his lips, the scalloped neckline of her white blouse dipping and exposing the upper swells of her breasts, the lacy chemise underneath barely containing them.

  “I like making mischief.” He spread his hands around her waist to keep her close, then he bit into the succulent fruit, his gaze on hers and his heartbeat thundering in his ears. “What am I going to do with you, Ellie Marie?”

  “Perhaps offer me another disrespectful kiss?”

  Not on his life would he do that.

  He was already in deep enough trouble.

  Chapter 10

  Ellie fed Ashten another apricot, wishing like crazy he truly did wish for her to be his wife, except he’d declared well and true he didn’t desire such a union, and far more than once. Still, she would enjoy her day, and this precious time she’d been gifted with him. She tossed the pip, nabbed yet another apricot from the basket and this time bit into the succulent fruit herself. “It’s at times like these,” she murmured as she licked her lips of the apricot juice, “that I miss Harry dreadfully.”