The Heart of a Duke

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The Heart of a Duke Page 28

by Victoria Morgan


  “No, about the root cellar. I thought you locked me in. Edmund said it was a game of hide-and-seek, and you were to be the seeker. I hid there and heard the click of the latch. I was locked in for over an hour, and it was dark, cold, and damp. It was awful. I hated you for doing that.”

  His anger depleted, he shook his head, a sadness settling over him. “No. I tried to explain when I found you, but you were too upset to listen. I would have located you sooner had Edmund ever told me I was to search for you. I found you because your father asked me to look. He said you had disappeared with Edmund, and he had lost you both. So I searched and heard you crying.” At the sheen of tears glistening in her eyes, he drew her into her arms. “My apologies, Julia. Edmund liked his games.”

  “So you saved me from Edmund’s cruelty then, and a second time when you kissed me, ending my betrothal to him.”

  He leaned back and stared into her blurry eyes. “It was my pleasure.”

  “Yes, you do enjoy telling me so,” she sniffed. “But Daniel, you like to tell me that it is your turn to take care of me, but you already have. Twice. So it is my turn to keep you safe. I cannot do it if I am here in Bedfordshire and you are in a London gambling hell getting stabbed or . . .” Her voice hitched.

  “Shh . . .” He pressed her face to his chest, resting his chin on the cap of her bonnet. “Nothing is going to happen to me. They would have to employ their own army to get through mine. If it was not a gambling hell that I was going into, which no respectable woman could ever enter—even a brave warrior who is a crack shot with a Manton revolver—I promise you, I would take you with me.” That would be when horses flew, but he kept that detail to himself. Self-preservation and all that.

  “Liar,” she murmured.

  She knew him too well. He’d have to remember that in their marriage. He smiled.

  “It is just, I love you so much that I don’t think I could bear it if anything were to happen to you. I never understood what my father or Emily felt, but now I do, and I saw what they experienced when they lost—”

  She stopped speaking when he forced her away from him. He held her at arm’s length, his heart sputtering to a dead stop. “What? What did you just say?” He dared not breathe as he waited for her response.

  Her face was mottled and tear streaked, and she sniffled as she stared at him balefully. She had never looked more beautiful.

  She swiped at her eyes. “I am not saying it again. You do not deserve it.”

  Good lord, she was perfect. Absolutely perfect. He swung her off her feet, lifting her high, and twirling her around. “Too late. I heard you. You cannot deny it.”

  She rolled her eyes and tried to kick out at him, but she could not suppress her smile either. He set her on her feet and kissed her hard as he enfolded her in his arms.

  He had not planned to say the words. Had vowed to wait, but they poured from him. “I love you, too. I have never said those words to another living person. Ever. You are the first. The only one for me, Julia. I never thought I would find someone like you, someone I would want to say that to,” he declared.

  “Oh, Daniel,” she breathed, stepping back as she accepted the handkerchief he proffered and dabbed at her face. “Why didn’t you tell me? I might have said yes sooner.”

  “Well, as I always say, ladies should go first.”

  She hit him playfully.

  He sobered. “I planned to, but maybe I am not as brave as you.” He shook his head. She deserved the truth. “I wanted to wait until matters with Edmund were resolved. Until our happily ever after did not come with a caveat, that being my surviving—”

  “Stop, please, I cannot bear it. We will resolve this.”

  “You are right, forgive me. You ask me to trust you, Julia. I need for you to trust me to go to London and finish this. I will be careful. I give you my word. I have much to live for.” He drew her back into his arms, liking the feel of her there, for it was where she belonged.

  “I have no choice. Silly rules forbidding respectable women,” she muttered.

  “They had not met you when they made them.”

  “True,” she sniffed. “And you will stay in England? Can we live in Lakeview Manor?”

  “I will live where you are. It is the advantage of having a partner, and a transatlantic company. We have offices in both Boston and London. Besides, I added a nursery to the plans. We do need to fill it, which will be difficult if I am an ocean away from you.”

  She snuggled closer. “Good,” she whispered. “I would hate for you to abandon Jonathan after promising him to ride Black Angel once he gains a few more stone. He has decided Black Angel will make a good cavalry horse.”

  “Heaven help us.” He laughed. He held her, silent for a long moment, savoring her comfort. The distant bird cries and occasional squawks drifted their way.

  “I refuse to leave you mottle faced and sad—”

  She pulled back and slapped at him. “Mottle faced. How you flatter.”

  “Much better, the colors are already evening out in your cheeks.” He lowered his voice and untied her bonnet, pulling it out of her reach and tossing it to the ground.

  “What are you doing?”

  “We are going to make a happier memory for me to leave with. We have our own songbirds serenading us, which my cousin Theo, the birdman—”

  “The ornithologist,” Julia corrected with mock severity.

  “Right. Well, Theo says songbirds bring good fortune.” He unbuttoned his jacket and shrugged it off.

  “And what else did your cousin tell you?” she pressed, her lips twitching.

  “Well, he did natter on a lot about spottings of goldcrests, stonechats, and yellow-winged wagtails.”

  “You are making that up.” She laughed, then gave him a chastising look. “You have no appreciation for the ornithological field.”

  He caught her hand and yanked her close. “Maybe not, but I understand an all-consuming passion.” He dipped his head and kissed her.

  Smiling against his lips, she leaned into him, slipping her arms around his waist.

  He paused, looking up. “Wait, I think I heard something.”

  “What is it?” She followed his gaze.

  “Here, it’s over here.” He towed her over to a patch of grass a short distance away. He knelt and spread his jacket over the ground, grabbing her hand to tug her down beside him. “It’s a better vantage point from down here.”

  Grinning, she started to reply, but he pressed his finger to her lips.

  “Shh, I think it’s a rare gray-winged wagtail wormer.” He whispered, unbuttoning his waistcoat and discarding it as well.

  “I believe it is a simple grey wagtail.”

  “Exactly. The point is, you thought I made it up.” He shook his head as if in disappointment. At her snort, he raised a brow. “You dare to doubt me? I will show you.” Putting his hand on her shoulder, he pushed her back onto his jacket. “Flat on your back is the best vantage point to appreciate this.”

  He pressed his body to hers, loving her soft warmth, the intimacy as her breath quickened. “Look into the trees, he must be up there somewhere.”

  She tipped her head back and as if given a succulent treat, his lips fastened on her neck and he quickly dispensed with her jacket’s buttons.

  “Daniel, I do not think this is a good idea,” she whispered against his mouth. “We ought to go inside.”

  “Oh no, then we might miss this rare opportunity.” He stripped her jacket from her.

  “Daniel,” she gasped as his hand sneaked beneath the neckline of her gown, and cupped her breast.

  “Julia,” he returned in a husky murmur. He knew he had triumphed when she tugged his shirt free from his trousers and her hands slid up his back. He groaned at the feel of her soft fingers stroking his bare skin, shivered as her nails raked over his back, her touch a healing balm against old scars.

  He inched her gown above her knee, caressing the long length of leg, the smooth skin. An
avid rider, Julia’s legs were slim and muscular. He wanted to savor and love every inch of her, but she did have a point about being outside.

  Slow was better, but fast had its merits. When she arched against him, he slid his hand between them and fumbled with the placket of his trousers. Freeing himself, he settled his hips against hers. He moved his hand between them, and gently pleasured her until he had elicited her responding whimpers. He continued with a few deft strokes until he could bear it no more, and he slid inside her with a groan.

  When he started to thrust, hard and deep, her nails dug into his back. Forget songbirds, the sounds she made were a serenade to his heart. His arousal grew as he increased his pace, his breath ragged against her temple.

  Her body arched as she began her climb toward climax. He tried to slow himself down, but she molded her hips to his and arched against him, matching her movements to his rhythm. Her eager response heightened his arousal, and he deepened his thrust, holding her close. He felt her heart pound against his. Eventually, she cried out, clutching him tighter, her damp cheek buried in his chest.

  He groaned, his hands gripping her hips as he thrust a few more times, feeling something wild and primitive building within him. Slow was better, but good lord, fast and hard was a close second. He poured himself into her, breathing in deep pants as his passion climbed. He was surprised to hear his own cry of release ripped from him as his body arched and jerked. With a final grunt, he collapsed on top of her. He lay there, waiting for his heart rate to return to normal and his passion-dazed senses to settle.

  After a few minutes, she tapped his back. “Please, move. You are quite heavy, and the ground is hard.”

  “Well, then it is a good thing I am no longer,” he smiled, having no complaints about falling in love with a forthright woman. He summoned the energy to roll to her side. He slid a hand beneath her shoulders and tenderly drew her close, cradling her against him. “Will you look at that? It was not a gray-winged wagtail wormer, after all.”

  “Oh, what was it?” She rolled her eyes as she drew her gown down, and settled herself more comfortably against his chest.

  “It was a Peeping Tom.” His eyes laughed into hers. “Ogling my Lady Godiva.”

  She punched him playfully on the arm, her laughter joining his.

  A much better memory than tears. He would carry it with him tomorrow when he left. Hold it in his heart forever, which he hoped would be a long, long time.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  DANIEL had been gone for over a week, and Julia regretted her decision not to join him. She had never been a woman to sit home. That is the wife Edmund would have preferred. Once again, she shuddered at the thought of the disastrous marriage she had narrowly escaped. She would have failed Edmund miserably, but her failure would have been well met by his being a duplicitous, murderous bastard. Their marriage would have been like trying to keep a rock afloat. It was best it sank before ever being launched.

  She shook her head free of Edmund. For the hundredth time, she wished for Daniel’s safe return. To distract her. To love her as he had promised. She smiled wistfully, her body warming at the memory of his declaration and the look in his eyes when he had spoken.

  She needed to get her mind off of her aching need for Daniel or she would go mad, but that was like trying to forget a missing limb. In a doubtless futile attempt to do so, she had planned an excursion into town.

  She took the coach, as it was another dreary fall day, gray and spitting rain. Huffing out a breath, she drew the lap blanket over her legs and settled deeper into the velvet cushions, wishing Emily had accompanied her. Then again, these days Emily was in a rather foul mood herself. A separation would be good for them both.

  When the coach rolled to a stop, she frowned, for the ride had been far too short to reach the village proper.

  Curious, she drew aside the curtain and peered outside. Through the foggy mist, she noticed that they were at the crossroads to Adgate Road, which would take them onto High Street. She saw no reason for the stop and worried something was wrong with either the horses or the carriage.

  The door opened and she glanced over, expecting a footman with an explanation. Her eyes widened and she straightened in her seat, her hand going protectively to the collar of her woolen cloak.

  “Hello, Julia.”

  Edmund.

  Her damn discarded duke. The two-faced Janus. Her pulse raced, and she struggled to calm racing nerves. She refused to cower. “I have nothing to say to you. Please tell my driver that I would like to be on my way.”

  He simply laughed, and she could only watch astounded as he bounded into the carriage and brazenly settled himself into the seat across from her. “We will be on our way shortly, but there is a change of destination.”

  Ignoring him, she straightened and rapped her knuckles against the back panel.

  “No one will answer. I gave them leave to take a short break, for I required a moment of your time.”

  Everyone rushed to do the bidding of a damn duke, she silently seethed. “Well, I do not want a moment of yours,” she snapped, cringing at the peevish tone in her voice. She drew a deep breath, and spoke in a calm manner, the antithesis of what she was feeling. “Please, we have nothing to say to each other. I must ask you to leave.” She refused to spar with the man. Had forgotten her sabre and gloves. Perhaps more importantly, the Manton revolver.

  Edmund snorted. “Don’t you sound properly aggrieved. Like a maligned innocent, but we both know otherwise, don’t we?” He slipped off his leather gloves and lay them across his lap, crossing his legs as if settling in for a leisurely chat. “I doubt my brother would approve either. All the more reason to remain. As I am sure you have been apprised by now, we never did see eye to eye on things. Never will, but that is all to end soon.”

  “If you are not inclined to leave, Your Grace, then allow me to do so.” She slid forward but froze when he leaned over and slapped a large hand against the door, his ducal ring mocking her. His eyes were hard, mere slits.

  “You always did have a mutinous streak. It is time you learned your place.” He arched an imperious brow.

  She paled and slid her shaking hands beneath her blanket, hoping the tremors in her legs didn’t convey her terror. She moistened dry lips. “What do you want, Edmund?”

  He leaned back, his calf with its elegant silk stocking swinging casually. He straightened his cuff and flicked a piece of lint from his nut-brown jacket. “I want you to listen very carefully to everything I have to say because if you do not, I promise you, you will rue the day.”

  She swallowed. “I am listening.”

  “Good. Shortly, we will leave this coach, and you will accept my escort into mine. I will make the explanations and you will go along quietly. Should there be a scene, it will not go well for you. My men will carry out my orders and it will be your men who will suffer the consequences. Do you understand?”

  She nodded. It was as if his words had sucked all the air out of the carriage, and she needed to concentrate on taking small breaths.

  He appeared to become aware of her pallor, and his eyes narrowed in warning. “You are not one to swoon, so please do not adopt the odious habit now.”

  If she had felt faint, his condescension snapped her out of it. Bristling, she found the voice she had lost. “Where are we going? What do you want?”

  “You know damn well what I want, and you are going to help me get it.”

  He was wrong. She didn’t know what the devil Edmund sought other than some possibly incriminating papers that once belonged to his late father’s solicitor. But she did know enough to be petrified. Perhaps if she helped Edmund to retrieve what he was so desperate to acquire, she might just survive this nightmare. If he wanted her to beg, she would do so. “Please, Edmund, let us discuss this in a rational manner. I am sure we—”

  “We cannot.” His eyes, the compelling moss green, were a perverted mirror of Daniel’s. “It is time to go.” He slid on his gl
oves, uncrossed his legs, and eased forward.

  “Why do you hate him so?” she breathed.

  He paused and his smile was slow and insidious, never reaching his eyes or warming his expression. “Let us just say he has something I want. But now we are even. Because now I have something he wants.”

  “But why—

  “Enough!” His hand shot up, and she recognized the rage in his eyes, a flame that lit and died when she eased back into the cushions of the seat, cowering.

  “Behave and no one gets hurt. Of course, it is your decision, Julia, but I doubt you will be so foolish as to jeopardize your servants.” He smiled triumphantly.

  In her fear, she was oblivious to the explanations Edmund gave to her driver and footman. She could not resist a small cry when his gloved hand vised around her elbow, but one sharp look had her biting her lip so hard she drew blood.

  She stumbled going up the steps to his coach, and his arms were there, lifting and pushing her inside. She scrambled onto the seat and buried her unsteady hands in her cloak.

  Edmund climbed in behind her and the click of the lock echoed in the cabin.

  She lifted her chin and ventured to speak above the pounding of her heart. “Where are we going?”

  “To meet my brother. Where else?”

  When he flashed Daniel’s smile, she closed her eyes, unable to look at the perversion.

  She marveled at the strange irony that the one person whom her heart had been yearning for every hour of every day over the past week was now the last person on earth she hoped to see.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  TRAVEL weary and covered in a layer of road dust, Daniel barreled up the stairs to Taunton Court. He anticipated sweeping Julia into his arms and kissing her senseless. His plans changed at the sight of Taunton pacing the front foyer. His smile faded, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up.

  Something was wrong.

  “Bedford has Julia. He waylaid her coach on the way into town this morning. Told the driver he would escort her the rest of the way. They never reached town.”

 

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