Wagered to the Duke (BookStrand Publishing Romance)

by Karen Lingefelt

  She completely forgot what she’d been about to say when he seized her. She could think of nothing now except how he’d looked sprawled on that bed, and she felt even hotter. How she longed to—a loud rumble of thunder directly behind her startled them both, and they reeled back from each other.

  “What was that?” She gazed into his eyes that were like a stormy, gray sea she thought she could drown in, if only to quench the heat that burned in her core.

  He grinned. “It’s called a kiss. Something told me you’d never been kissed before.”

  So it had been a kiss! Only that wasn’t what she’d been asking. And she couldn’t remember what she’d asked or what she was supposed to say now, except, “Why?”

  “I warned you to keep your voice down. And you’re still not keeping your voice down. Do you want everyone to hear that you’re being kissed by your own brother?”

  Stupefied, she could only say, “But you’re not my—” She started at another rumble of thunder directly behind her, and then she realized it was someone knocking on the door.

  He raised his voice. “Who is it?”

  “Bilby, Your Grace. They fled and took the carriage and horses!”

  Nathan only stood there staring at the door as if he hadn’t the slightest notion what to say or do—as if he were locked under a spell.

  Just as Kate had been while in his embrace, but now she snapped out of it. “That’s what I was trying to tell you when you kissed me—Your Grace. Freddy and Polly took your carriage and horses. We are both stranded here. Your Grace.”

  Now he snapped out of the spell and threw her a withering glare. “I’ll tell you what I keep telling Bilby—don’t call me that until we’re in London!”

  Chapter Six

  Another barrage of knocks attacked the other side of the door. “Your Gra—I mean, Mr. Fraser!”

  “Excuse me while I conceal myself,” Kate whispered as she scurried for cover behind the screen in the corner.

  Nathan finally threw the door open to reveal his panic-stricken manservant. “Yes, Bilby, what is it? And for the last time—though I recall saying the last time I said this that it would be the last time—but if you call me by those two words, and I don’t mean ‘Mr. Fraser,’ just one more time, I will sack you without a reference and leave you stranded in this backwater.”

  “We’re already stranded,” Bilby replied, panting for breath. “Remember yesterday when you mentioned those three strangers were probably all conspiring to fleece you just when you least expected it? Well, they did it.”

  “Only two of them did it,” Nathan said grimly. “Alas, the one who’s caused the most trouble, and continues to cause it, is still with us like a bad penny I can’t seem to foist on some other equally unsuspecting, hapless, softhearted fool.”

  Bilby cocked his head to one side, eyeing Nathan askance. “How d’you know that?”

  “Because she was already here to apprise me of this latest and most disagreeable turn of events in her own highly inimitable fashion.”

  Now the manservant wrinkled his brow.

  “She already told me, Bilby. Just find us some other transportation. Get us seats on the mail coach if you have to.”

  Meanwhile, from down the hallway came the innkeeper’s belligerent voice. “What’s all that noise up there? I run a respectable house, and I’ll have no brawling.” Booted footsteps thundered up the stairs.

  Upon seeing the innkeeper, Nathan said, “My apologies for any disturbance. It seems my ne’er-do-well brother decamped in the dead of night with our carriage, our horses, and even my sister’s maid. But alas, not my sister.”

  The innkeeper nodded. “Aye, I saw them both in the taproom last night. He treated her like a common tavern wench. She was sittin’ on his lap with her bodice pulled down to her waist while he fondled and suckled on her—”

  “Thank you,” Nathan cut him off. “Perhaps you could lend my man here some assistance in acquiring some alternate transportation for the three of us?”

  He waited till the innkeeper led Bilby downstairs, and then he closed the door and turned to see Kate emerging from behind the screen.

  “So you are the duke!” she exclaimed.

  “That’s right, so I’m the duke!” He threw up his hands. “Blast that Bilby! Though at least he knocks and waits, instead of crashing in here uninvited.”

  “I beg your pardon, but I was too furious at the realization that I might have been stranded here to be polite. You should have locked your door in any event. Why didn’t you?”

  “I left it unlocked for your thankless wretch of a brother.” Not for the first time, Nathan cursed himself for being so considerate of ungrateful strangers. “I thought he might eventually quit the taproom and come upstairs to sleep like a civilized being, but no.”

  “You still should have locked the door,” she chided him.

  “I didn’t want to have to wake up and get out of bed in case he did bang on the door, especially since I was naked.” How he loved the way her eyes suddenly snapped open wide before she averted her gaze, and he wondered if she did so because he said the word naked or because she was still thinking of him in that state. “Though if he’s anything like his sister, I suppose he wouldn’t have knocked, either.”

  “Still, someone could have slipped in here and robbed you of everything.”

  “That’s why my valuables are all locked in my trunk. On the other hand, someone could have slipped in to seduce me. You might have done just that.” He needled her with a mischievous grin, delighting in the look of shock on her face, which was decidedly different from the look of awe she’d worn earlier as she beheld his nakedness. Undoubtedly she’d never seen a naked man before, certainly not one with a full erection.

  She looked thoroughly affronted as she planted her fists on her hips. “And why, pray tell, would I do that?”

  Now it was Nathan’s turn to be just a little affronted. After what she’d just seen of him—and she hadn’t looked the least bit horrified, quite the contrary—she dared to ask why she’d ever want to seduce him?

  “Perhaps you might have thought by doing so, I would forget about sending you back where you came from and take you to London.”

  She stared at him. He stared back, surveying this thistle who had turned his life so thoroughly upside down in less than twenty-four hours that he could scarcely think straight anymore. At last he saw that her hair, which had been hidden beneath a bonnet all of yesterday, was the color of warm honey, golden brown and dripping all over her face in loose strands, abruptly reminding him that she no longer had a maid, for her hair was haphazardly pinned up into a loose bun that looked as if it might unfurl at the touch of his fingertip.

  He wondered what she would look like with her hair down. Or out of that high-necked, high-waisted frock of blue-sprigged muslin.

  He wondered why he would even think such a thing when he could now have any woman he wanted.

  She broke into his confusing musing. “The only thing I really want to know is if you still intend to take me to London, and will I have to offer you some sort of payment for it?”

  “Where did you get the idea I might demand some sort of payment? Have I asked for anything yet?”

  “Well, you did insinuate that perhaps I might have come in here to seduce you into taking me to London.”

  “Rest assured that won’t be necessary.” Nathan wasn’t about to add that she hardly needed a reason to seduce him if she wanted, if only because he was quite certain that a plain, bespectacled shrew like her would never do it.

  Was it his imagination, or did she suddenly look disappointed? Then again, if she was disappointed about anything, then maybe it was the fact she’d lost her maid and been abandoned by her brother, and not because she was hoping for an erotic romp with Nathan.

  Only why did he suddenly feel disappointed? He was quite certain she’d enjoyed that kiss, for once in his embrace, she’d seemed to melt. He felt positive that if he’d gone further—for i
nstance, if he’d tried to pull down her hair, or fondle her breast, she would only have weakened more and sighed with a delightful mix of pleasure and longing for even more pleasure.

  He’d certainly longed for more of it.

  The thought made his loins quiver, reminding him that she’d already seen every last inch of him in full arousal. And she hadn’t seemed the least bit appalled or embarrassed by the sight. Instead she’d seemed…fascinated.

  He had to stop thinking of that and concentrate on what to do with her next. Or rather, besides what he’d like to do with her next. Confusion gripped him at the realization that he might actually desire this plain but prickly thistle.

  “Perhaps I should leave so you can finish dressing,” she said.

  He grabbed his boots and sat in a chair. “Oh, I don’t see why you should leave on account of that, especially since you’ve already seen every inch of me.” He shot her another grin, and her eyes grew larger behind the spectacles. He was enjoying this for some reason.

  She glanced away again then back at him, her eyes no longer quite so wide. “By the bye, you mustn’t blame Bilby for exposing your true identity. I knew you were the duke from the very start.”

  “From the very—” For a moment he thought he might choke on his tongue. He set down his boots and skewered her with a sharp look. “How the devil did you know? Don’t tell me Freddy happened to give you a very detailed description of me?”

  “Very well, I won’t,” she said blithely, turning away with a little shrug.

  “Well, how else could you know? Only he didn’t strike me as the sort to have taken much notice of details like what his fellow card players looked like, or he wouldn’t have lost that hand—and ultimately you. Why didn’t you tell me you knew?”

  She turned to face him. “Obviously you’ve chosen to travel incognito, have you not?

  “Aye, Bilby’s slips of the tongue notwithstanding.”

  “Very well, then I’ve only been doing my utmost to respect it.”

  Nathan could not suppress a snort as he donned his socks.

  “Would you prefer I fall all over you because you’re really a duke?”

  He might not have minded if she’d fallen over him when she woke him up this morning. He pushed that thought out of his befuddled head and sat back in the chair. “No. But you’ve certainly enjoyed a great deal of sport at my expense, haven’t you? Accusing the duke of slavery, of forcing his man of affairs to travel the Great North Road in a cheap trap about to lose its wheels, and not providing proper documentation on request when the duke’s very word should be sufficient.”

  More than a smile suffused her face. She burst into soft laughter that tinkled like chimes. For a fleeting moment she looked not plain, but pretty. In fact, he thought he even detected a hint of beauty as he felt a sudden wave of something he could only describe as…enchantment.

  And all because she smiled and laughed?

  He shook his head as if doing so might break that baffling spell. “You don’t seem at all in awe of me.”

  “Why should I be?”

  Why should she be, indeed? She wasn’t the least bit impressed by his noble pedigree, and hadn’t been from the start, when she’d known all along who he really was.

  He only vaguely remembered how people, even his own mother, had deferred to his father, who had died when he was only six years old. He had even more frightfully vivid memories of everyone fawning over his older half brother.

  Or maybe they hadn’t fawned so much as cowered in fear.

  As he pulled on his boots, she said, “You don’t seem comfortable being a duke.”

  He paused for only a heartbeat then continued pulling on his boot as if he couldn’t don it fast enough. “Comfortable? Inheriting such a lofty title isn’t exactly the same as curling up in an armchair next to the fire with a brandy and a good book.”

  “My point exactly, and you’ve just cited one of my favorite pastimes,” she remarked. “Well, except for the brandy. I prefer tea.”

  Nathan found that interesting, for it was also one of his favorite pastimes. He peered into his other boot, as if he suspected a mouse might be lurking deep inside it. “I’m not certain what your point is.”

  “I mean you don’t feel easy about being a duke.”

  He turned the boot upside down and shook it, but no mouse fell out. Nor did anything else, save a few grains of dust. “You mean simply because I’m traveling incognito? I understand a great many personages of noble rank do that fairly regularly. I believe King Charles II traveled around England incognito.”

  “No, I mean quite aside from that. For instance, I notice that when referring to yourself in terms of being the duke, you suddenly shift to the third person.”

  He righted the boot and set it on the floor, staring down at it as if he still expected that mouse to leap out. “Whatever are you havering about?”

  “Just that. You don’t even refer to yourself in the first-person plural, like a member of the royal family.”

  “Maybe that’s because I’m not a member of the royal family.”

  “No, I mean a moment ago. Instead of saying ‘accusing me’ of slavery and parsimony and ill treatment of ‘my man of affairs,’ you said, ‘Accusing the duke of slavery’ and other atrocities against ‘his man of affairs.’ As if you consider the Duke of Loring an entity or being quite separate from Nathan Fraser.”

  Nathan supposed she had a point, but then he told himself it was only because he wasn’t yet accustomed to being the duke and still thought it was his recently departed half brother who was the duke, as the rogue had never tired of reminding everyone.

  She went on, “Oh, and then you said something about how the duke’s word should be sufficient, when you’re the duke, and therefore your word should be sufficient.”

  “But obviously it wasn’t, at least not for you.” He finally donned the other boot.

  “That’s because I was enjoying a great deal of sport at your expense,” she reminded him. “Or would that be the duke’s expense?”

  He rose to his feet. “I believe I said it was mine.”

  She stepped back, as if she feared he might seize her again, and not for another kiss. Maybe that was why she finally dropped her voice to just above a whisper. “You do realize I’m now unchaperoned.”

  “I’m acutely aware of that.” Maybe that was why he was feeling strangely disappointed. Without a chaperone, this bad luck charm could claim to be compromised by him.

  Hell, she could make that claim now—and it would be the truth. He’d kissed her, very passionately, and not because she’d tempted him—well, maybe she had, but inadvertently.

  Now she looked worried. “You’re not going to leave me here because I have no chaperone?”

  “I’ll confess it’s very tempting, but ’tis precisely because you have no chaperone that I can’t leave you here. You’d be stranded and surrounded by strangers. At least you’ve met me, and surely you know by now that I will allow no harm to come to you. I’ll take you to London, unless a better situation can be found for you between here and there.” He wasn’t without friends and acquaintances between here and London, and perhaps one of them needed a lady’s companion or even a governess. She certainly looked the part.

  “What sort of situation?” she inquired.

  “Something suitable for someone of your, er—” He wanted to say temperament, but something told him that might cause her to raise her voice again. In which case, he went ahead and said, “your temperament.”

  She didn’t disappoint him. “My temperament? And what is that supposed to mean?”

  “Temperament. It means your general disposition, your character, your nerves and humors, how you act and react in certain situations. Everyone has one, so there’s really no need for you to raise your voice simply because I made reference to yours—unless, of course, you’d like me to stifle you by my usual method.”

  Now to see if she endeavored to lower her voice or chose to kee
p it raised with the hope of being kissed again.

  He was halfway hoping she’d do the latter.

  When she didn’t say anything at all, he couldn’t resist trying to provoke her. “By the way, when you crashed in here this morning, just what were you planning to do after throwing back the covers?”

  “I thought you were Freddy, in which case I might have killed you. Him.”

  Nathan nodded. “I suppose so. Since he’s your brother, you certainly wouldn’t have planned to seduce him into taking you to London.”

  “That’s because you’re the one taking me to London. And to think I don’t even have to seduce you to do it.” No sooner were the words out of her mouth than she blanched and clamped a hand over those lips as she backed up another step.

  He crossed his arms over his chest as he surveyed her delightfully mortified expression. “You certainly looked as if you might have been considering it when I woke up this morning. You couldn’t take your eyes off of me, could you? And why not? Had our positions been reversed—had I come crashing into your room to confront your maid only to throw back the covers to reveal you with nary a stitch—I doubt that I would be able to keep my eyes off of you, either.”

  She finally dropped her hand. “Oh! Well, I think I know why you seem so uneasy about being a duke. You’re no better than a common rogue.”

  “Is that so? And how many common rogues have ever said such provoking things to you?”

  She said nothing, though her mouth continued to snap open and shut as if she were at least mouthing some sort of response.

  “So many you can’t count?” he prodded. “Or are you loath to admit that no common rogue—or even uncommon rogue—has ever so much as given you the time of day?”

  “Oh!” she finally exploded. “Well, if you weren’t going to take me to London, I might—I might—”

  “You might tell me what you really think?” he supplied. “Och, but you’re doing a braw job of that already. And I’ll warn you only once more to keep your voice down.”