Nicola Cornick

by The Dukes Mistress

  She moved to the table and took the cue from his hand. She pointed it at the ball only to find Justin’s arms closing around her. ‘Like this,’ he said into her ear. He moved her hands into position and then moved away from her. ‘Now try to hit it.’

  Whatever was he talking about? Her body still tingled from where he had touched her.

  ‘Do not worry if you make a mistake. You can try it as many times as you wish,’ he said.

  Oh. She was supposed to hit the ball. She took aim and brought her arm back, then forward. Her stick contacted with the ball and it slowly rolled towards the middle of the table and then stopped. ‘Oh, dear. It hardly did anything.’

  ‘At least you hit it,’ he said kindly. He retrieved the ball and set it back in place. ‘Try it again. Do you want me to help you?’

  No! Then she’d never have a chance of concentrating. ‘Perhaps if you showed me first.’

  ‘Very well.’

  She stepped aside and he positioned himself in front of the ball. He leaned forward, the movement stretching his shirt and waistcoat across the taut muscles of his back. A sudden recollection of how they felt under her hand hit her and she jerked her gaze to his fingers. They were strong and lean around the stick, the signet ring he wore on his left hand catching the light from the window. Unfortunately, watching his hands proved no less distracting.

  He finally hit the ball in a swift, sure movement. It rolled directly into the pocket on the opposite side. He straightened up and glanced at her, male satisfaction at such a neat hit evident. She found herself smiling at him. ‘Very good. How did you do that?’

  ‘Practice. And concentration. I do not allow myself to be distracted.’

  Evidently, her presence was not having the same effect on him as his was having on her. Well, she would just have to put aside her lustful, immoral thoughts and focus on the task at hand rather than on him. ‘Let me try it again, then.’ She picked up her stick with resolution.

  He made no move to physically help her this time, but she was quite aware his eyes were fixed on her. It was almost as bad as having him touch her. She tried to ignore him and vowed she would at least hit the ball hard enough so it would reach the other side of the table.

  She slammed the stick into the ball which bounded across the table and leapt off with such force she feared it would crash through the floor.

  Mortified, she forced herself to look at Justin. His brow shot up. ‘I should hate to have you angry at me with the stick in your hand. I suspect you would be lethal.’

  Her hand went to her mouth. ‘I am sorry. Do you think I damaged your floor? Or the ball?’

  His mouth twitched. ‘I doubt it very much.’

  ‘I will retrieve it.’ She moved around the side of the table. The ball had rolled across the floor and come to rest near the fireplace. She was relieved to see no holes in the floor and find the ball in one piece.

  She picked it up and walked back to the table. ‘I would like to try again,’ she said. All signs indicated that she should acknowledge defeat and give up, but she was determined she would get at least one ball in a pocket. Particularly since he was laughing at her.

  ‘Good girl.’ His eyes danced. ‘Perhaps I should help you this time.’

  ‘No, I wish to try it myself again. However, I think I could concentrate better if you would look at something besides me.’

  ‘Most certainly, although you will deprive me of the pleasure of watching you.’

  She cast him a baleful look. ‘It is hardly kind of you to take pleasure in watching me make a sad botch of this.’

  ‘Ah, but that wasn’t what was giving me pleasure.’

  He was flirting with her, and no matter what she said he would twist it. She marched to the table and glanced back at him. ‘I really would like to try this without any spectators.’

  ‘Of course. I will stand near the window, although I would be grateful if you would warn me before tossing any more balls off the table.’

  ‘I have no intention of doing that again, your Grace,’ she said with dignity. She turned back to the table and gritted her teeth. She would conquer this.

  The first shot went wide of the mark, but the second was solid. By the third try she had managed to at least move a ball in the direction she wanted. And by the eighth shot, a ball finally wobbled into a pocket. She nearly shouted with joy.

  ‘Very nice.’

  She whirled around and nearly hit Justin, who stood directly behind her, with the stick. He stepped back and then gently took it from her hand. ‘You are dangerous with this thing,’ he remarked.

  ‘I had no idea you were behind me. I thought you were not going to watch.’ Her heart was thudding rapidly although she couldn’t tell if it was from his nearness or excitement over her victory.

  ‘I could not help myself,’ he said with an apologetic air, but she doubted he was the least bit apologetic. ‘I own I was bored so I thought I would see how you were progressing. I arrived in time to see your victory. I had no doubt you would finally manage to corner one of the balls. You are very determined when you want something.’

  ‘You may still laugh but I will get better and then I will challenge you to a match.’

  He grinned. ‘I look forward to it. However, a few more pointers might be in order.’

  She frowned at him. ‘Such as what?’

  ‘The position of the stick when your ball is here, for instance. This angle can make it rather difficult. Allow me to show you.’ He neatly demonstrated and then hit the ball. He then re-spotted the ball. ‘You can try it now.’

  The stick would not quite line up and she felt awkward. He moved to her side and put one arm around her so he could guide her hand. Then he shifted her other hand into position. His light impersonal touch made her feel almost weak. ‘I’ll help you hit the ball,’ he said. He spoke almost impersonally, but she heard the slight huskiness in his voice.

  ‘All right,’ she said. Her own voice sounded very peculiar.

  But he made no move to hit the ball and he suddenly stepped away from her. ‘This is impossible,’ he said.

  Belle managed to speak. ‘I fear I am a poor pupil at such things. I could never throw a ball properly or…or shoot an…’ Her voice trailed away as he drew her back against him.

  His hands splayed over her stomach, his breath warm on her cheek. ‘No, my sweet Belle, that is not what I meant.’ And then his mouth found the hollow at the base of her neck. Her head fell back and she could feel the hard muscles of his chest against her, then his hands moved up to cup her breasts through the soft muslin of her gown. She made a little sound.

  ‘I do not think I can wait,’ he murmured. ‘I want to love you now.’ He pulled her more firmly against him, leaving her in no doubt of his desire.

  ‘Justin…’ But he had turned her and his mouth covered hers silencing her protest. She was backed up against the billiard table and he was kissing her with a wild passion that sent her spiralling into a vortex. He lifted her and she was on the table. He braced his hands on either side of her, his mouth still on hers. She clung to him but when he lifted her skirt and his hand began to stroke the soft flesh of her inner thigh, she pulled her mouth away. ‘Justin…we cannot…’

  His smile was wicked. ‘But we can. I told you these lessons would not be tedious.’

  ‘No, they are not.’ Her body was trembling with anticipation and heat. When his hand went to the fastening of his breeches, she thought she would explode then. His eyes were fixed on her face as he bent over her, bracing his arms on either side of her on the table. ‘Where were we?’ he asked.

  ‘I think…’ She looked up into his dark face, his eyes heavy with passion and need for her. With astonishment she saw that although she was for all purposes at his mercy, that was only an illusion. She was not powerless, instead, he was in her power, a feminine power she had never dreamed she possessed.

  She surrendered then, both to him and to herself. Her arms came around his neck and her hands t
angled in the thick, silky hair at his nape. She drew his head slowly towards her. ‘I think we were here,’ she whispered before bringing his lips to hers.

  Chapter Thirteen

  ‘Lord Salcombe.’

  Startled, Brandt spun around. He had just sauntered out of the Harringtons’ ballroom towards the card room. He was stunned to find Lady Chloe behind him. She had made it quite clear she held him in dislike, a novel experience, since most females seemed to find him attractive whether he wanted them to or not. To his annoyance he found it irked him that the lovely Lady Chloe proved the exception. ‘Lady Chloe,’ he drawled. ‘Should I be flattered that you have deigned to speak to me?’

  ‘Why?’ She frowned a little. ‘I want to ask you about my sister-in-law. Do you know where she is?’

  It was his turn to frown. ‘She is with my cousin, I believe. At his home in Devon.’

  ‘Do you know if she is well?’ Her large expressive eyes were filled with concern.

  ‘I have not heard from my cousin but I presume she is. You have heard nothing from her?’

  ‘No. Both Mama and Arth…Lord Ralston have forbidden me any contact with her, although I think Mama is now very sorry. But I had hoped you might have heard something.’ She looked so crestfallen, he felt a twinge of conscience.

  ‘You are very fond of Lady Milborne?’

  ‘She is the best person in the world,’ she said softly. ‘I miss her terribly. I do not want her to be hurt any more than she already has been.’

  The twinge was turning into a full-blown attack. ‘My cousin is not cruel. She will be safe with him.’

  ‘Will she be?’ She looked doubtful. ‘But he forced her to go with him.’

  ‘What do you know of that?’

  ‘She did not look very happy when she was with him at the theatre so I cannot imagine she went with him willingly, which is why I worry about her.’

  ‘Yes.’ He should be shocked that an innocent young lady would not only observe such things but comment on them. Instead, he found himself admiring her for her loyalty to someone she cared deeply about.

  He said, almost reluctantly, ‘I had planned to make a short visit to Devon. I will make certain Lady Milborne is well. Will that reassure you?’

  ‘Oh, yes.’ She suddenly looked hopeful. ‘Can you deliver a note to her?’

  ‘If you can get it to me by tomorrow. I will leave the day after.’

  ‘Thank you.’ For the first time, she smiled at him and he nearly reeled under the impact.

  ‘Very well,’ he said curtly, taken aback by his own reaction.

  She turned to go, then paused and looked back at him. ‘Belle has done nothing wrong, no matter what you believe. My brother used her just as badly as he used your cousin.’

  Before he could utter a word, she was gone. Brandt watched her make her way back to the ballroom, a slender auburn-haired girl with an unexpected strength under her demure appearance. A wry smile touched his mouth. He’d intended to go to Devon to make certain his cousin was protected from Lady Milborne, but now he had just promised to make certain Lady Milborne was protected from his cousin.

  Brandt realised as soon as he finished the sentence that he had made a tactical error in telling his aunt he was to leave for Falconcliff. Her eyes took on a speculative look. ‘Splendid. I will accompany you.’

  ‘I doubt Justin will be pleased when I show up. He will be even less pleased if both of us do.’

  Her mouth tightened with displeasure. ‘If you do not escort me then I will be forced to travel alone. I have no intention of remaining in London when he is under that creature’s influence. What if she attempts to force him into marriage? It is bad enough that she has enticed him away from London and in the middle of the Season.’

  ‘In all fairness to Lady Milborne, it was Justin who enticed her away.’

  ‘Which makes it worse,’ Lady Georgina snapped. ‘I will not allow this little affair to go any further. He has duties, one of which is to marry and produce an heir, but since he has been caught in her toils, he seems to have forgotten this. He needs to be reminded.’

  He knew that once she made up her mind to do something, dissuading her was impossible. If he escorted her, he could at least keep an eye on her. ‘Very well, we will leave tomorrow.’

  ‘Splendid.’ The triumphant little smile on her face did not reassure him. He did not have solid proof, but he was beginning to suspect Lady Georgina was behind the slurs on Lady Milborne’s reputation. He had no more desire to see Justin caught in Lady Milborne’s claws than his aunt did, but his sense of fair play would not allow him to resort to malicious slander.

  He now needed to protect both Justin and Lady Milborne from Lady Georgina.

  The rain fell for the next few days. Belle found she did not mind. The sea continued to fascinate her and she spent hours in the library reading or watching the water or practising her billiards when Justin was occupied with other matters. They dined together and sometimes played cards and billiards after dinner. They had few visitors, the heavy rains making travel difficult. Lord Haversham stopped by twice. His manner towards her had warmed a little, although she knew he did not completely approve of her presence.

  The nights she spent in Justin’s arms. He taught her about the pleasures of lying with a man and she learned that she was not the cool dispassionate woman she had thought. Sometimes in the aftermath as she lay, naked and spent, against his chest, she thought she did not know herself at all, which frightened her more than a little.

  During the day, by herself, she felt once more the cool, sensible person she had tried to become after Lucien’s death. But she had had a sense of suspended time, as if she were living in a fairytale castle in a sort of dream. The world that she had left, her quiet life with Maria and Chloe, and more recently, London with its balls and parties and gossip, seemed far away. She tried not to think of what would happen when she left Devon.

  The rain fell for over a week. Exactly ten days after she arrived, the sun feebly shone through the clouds. She had gone down to breakfast in the dining room when Justin came in. He was dressed in leather breeches and a plain coat and riding boots, as he was most mornings. He rose early and rode, even when the weather was less than ideal, unless there was a particularly nasty storm. Then he went straight to his study to meet with his estate manager or Jackson.

  He flung himself down in the chair opposite her. ‘I thought we could go riding today if you wish.’

  She had learned the ‘if you wish’ was merely a formality. He had made up his mind she would go riding with him. She supposed she should take exception to his heavy-handedness, but underneath his imperiousness she sensed he truly desired her company. And she wanted nothing more than to be with him. ‘Yes, if that is what you would like.’

  He frowned at her a little. She could see he was in one of his impatient moods and something was distracting him as well. ‘Would you like coffee?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes. If you please.’ He rose and paced towards the window, before turning to look at her, hands clasped behind his back. ‘Marguerite, Lady Haversham that is, has invited us to dine with them tonight.’

  She poured his coffee and stirred in the two lumps of sugar he always took. She looked at him, a little startled. ‘That is very kind of her.’

  He still wore a frown. ‘I can decline if you would rather not accept.’

  ‘Why would you think I would not want to accept?’

  ‘Because she overset you when they dined with us that very first day,’ he said bluntly. ‘I could see that from your face when Giles and I returned to the drawing room.’

  ‘No, she did not overset me. Not really.’

  ‘What did she say to you then? We have known each other since childhood which she considers a licence to meddle in my affairs.’

  ‘She said nothing to me that I would not have said if our situations had been reversed. She merely wished to make certain I would not hurt you.’

  He frowned. ‘That is no
ne of her concern.’

  ‘It is. She cares about you. She is your friend, as is Giles. She knows something of what happened three years ago and that I hurt you. I cannot blame her at all for her questions. And I will not come between you and your friends, so you must promise me you will say nothing to Marguerite.’

  He looked at her for a moment. ‘Very well. I will not say anything. However, we are not obligated to dine with them.’

  ‘I would like to,’ she said firmly, although she had felt more than a little trepidation about the invitation under the circumstances. It was beyond kind of them to invite her because she doubted there were very few other married couples who would extend an invitation to her. But she meant what she had told Justin—she would not force him to choose between her and his friends.

  ‘If you are certain.’ He still wore a slight frown. ‘Then I will send a message for them to expect us.’

  ‘Yes. Come and sit down and have your coffee. It is probably cold, however. Should I pour you another cup?’

  ‘No. This will do.’ He took his place across from her again and she handed him the cup and saucer.

  She resumed her chair and stared down at her own full cup, then glanced at Justin. He was sipping his coffee, his attention now caught by The Times. The scene was unbearably domestic, as if they were man and wife rather than temporary lovers. No, she had never had such an occasion with Lucien, but this was what her parents had done. What she had dreamed her marriage might be like.

  A lump rose in her throat and she pushed her cup away. It felt so comfortable and so right to be sitting with him like this and she knew it could never last.

  The sun still shone by the time they returned to the house in late afternoon. Justin had taken her over the entire property. He rode a large grey gelding and she had been mounted upon a smaller horse, a bay by the name of Gawain. She saw his horses and then the colt, who looked completely at home in his new paddock. After that they had ridden down a narrow winding path to the sea. They spent a considerable time by the water and then he had pulled her down beside him on a bleached log which she now knew was driftwood and had kissed her thoroughly.