Duchess by Deception

by Marie Force

  She strained against his tight hold and turned her head away from the cup he held to her lips. Her mouth opened, and he was able to get her to drink a small bit without her choking. It took more than half an hour, but he managed to get most of the cup into her. He wiped her face with the towel and started to settle her back in bed.

  But she turned into him, her head on his chest, and began to murmur in her sleep.

  Now this, Derek thought, was definitely improper. Regardless, he couldn’t seem to bring himself to leave her, even though her fever was making him overly warm.

  “No,” she muttered. “Don’t. Please don’t.” She stiffened, as if in pain, and let out a low moan.

  “It’s all right,” Derek said, combing his fingers through her glorious mane. “I’ve got you. You’re safe here.”

  “Don’t hurt me. Please don’t.”

  Derek tightened his hold on her. “You’re safe. No one will hurt you.” He realized his shirt was damp and looked down to see tears on her fever-brightened cheeks. Brushing them away, he ached to know who she was, who had hurt her, and what had brought her to his corner of Essex.

  He spoke softly to her until she once again relaxed into a deep sleep. The long, eventful day finally caught up to him, and his eyes drifted closed. His next conscious thought was one of struggle. Someone was fighting him with everything they had. He startled awake to find his patient battling her way out of his embrace.

  “Wait,” he said. “I won’t hurt you.”

  “Release me this instant!” Her voice was low and cultured, and the sound stirred him profoundly.

  Derek did as she asked, and she sprang from the bed.

  Arms folded across the front of the thin night rail Mrs. Langingham had found for her, she glared at him as she wobbled on unsteady legs. “Where am I? Where is my clothing? Who undressed me?”

  “You’re at Westwood Hall. The housekeeper bathed and dressed you.”

  Her face flaming with embarrassment, she grabbed a blanket from the foot of the bed and wrapped it around herself. “And who resides here?”

  “The Duke of Westwood.”

  She made a face of supreme distaste.

  Derek bit back the urge to laugh.

  “I have no desire to be the guest of a duke. If you’ll find my clothes, I’ll be on my way.”

  “I believe they were burned.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “They weren’t fit to be rags.”

  “They’re all I have!” Her pale face lost what color it had left as she swooned.

  Derek bolted from the bed to catch her and settled her back in bed. “You’re ill. You can’t go anywhere until your fever breaks and you regain your strength.”

  Dark blue eyes filled with tears. “I can’t stay here.”

  “What has the duke ever done to you?”

  “Not a thing.”

  “Then why are you so opposed to being his guest?”

  “I’d feel the same about any peer of the realm,” she said with a haughty lift of her delicate chin.

  “And why is that?”

  “I have my reasons. Who are you anyway?”

  Derek’s brain froze.

  “Have I asked a difficult question?”

  “Of course not,” Derek said, recovering. “I’m Jack Bancroft, the duke’s estate manager.”

  “You’re not a peer?”

  “No, ma’am.” Derek wasn’t sure why he lied, except that he wanted to know more about her and already understood that he’d get nowhere with her as the Duke of Westwood. That, alone, made her different from every other woman he’d ever met.

  “Good,” she said, visibly relieved.

  “Now that I’ve given you my name, will you return the favor?”

  She rolled her plump bottom lip between her teeth. “Catherine.”

  Derek lowered himself into the chair next to the bed. “Pleasure to meet you, Catherine.”

  “How did I get here?”

  “I brought you. Do you remember our encounter in the woods? You were digging.”

  “And you took my shovel.”

  “The duke tends to frown upon strangers digging on his land without his knowledge or permission.”

  Her eyes flashed with anger. “Oh, what does he care? He has thousands of acres. What’s one small hole to him?”

  “It’s still his land, and thus his hole. Why don’t you tell me why you were digging?”

  Her eyes widened. “My bag! Where’s my bag?” Clawing at the blankets, she tried to get up.

  “Stay there. It’s right here.” He crossed the room to get the threadbare valise and brought it to her.

  She did a quick inspection and then clutched it to her chest, eyeing him warily. “Did you look inside?”

  “I did not.” Dropping back into the chair, he propped his feet on the foot of the bed. “You haven’t answered my question. Why were you digging?”

  “I was looking for something that belongs to me,” she said, her gaze darting to his feet on the bed and then back to his face. Her expression told him that if it were up to her, he and his feet would be expelled from the room immediately.

  Confused, Derek said, “So, you’ve been here before?” He was quite certain he’d remember her.

  “No. My grandmother has.”

  “And she left something behind?”

  “I don’t wish to discuss it any further.”

  “I can’t help you if I don’t know what brought you here or why you were willing to risk your health and well-being in pursuit of it.”

  “Why would you want to help me?”

  With every passing minute Derek grew more fascinated by her. He forced himself to project a sense of calm when he was anything but. “The duke has gone abroad to America for the summer.” Even though he surprised himself with the easy lie, his face remained neutral. “I’ve nothing much to do in his absence. If you’re looking for something, I might be able to help.”

  “I don’t require your assistance. If I could just borrow some clothing, I’ll be on my way.”

  “I’m afraid I can’t allow that.”

  “You can’t, or you won’t?”

  “As the duke’s estate manager, I oversee everything involving the land. I can’t permit a stranger to dig unsupervised.” He sent her his most charming smile. “You wouldn’t want to cause me trouble with my employer, now would you?”

  “I don’t see why you can’t just let me go and forget you ever met me.”

  Derek gave her his most charming smile. “My lady, you are quite unforgettable.”

  “And it is quite unseemly for us to be alone together in a bedchamber.”

  “No member of this household will speak of it.” He would see to that. “You were sick. I thought you’d be more comfortable waking up to someone you recognized, even though our association was brief.”

  “And how precisely did you end up in bed with me?”

  “I fed you some tea and then you fell asleep. I didn’t want to disturb you. And you seemed . . .”

  “What?”

  “Frightened. Has someone hurt you?”

  Catherine gasped. “Of course not. Why would you say such a thing?”

  “You were speaking in your sleep.”

  She put a hand over her mouth. “I wasn’t.”

  Derek leaned forward and rested his elbows on the bed. “Who hurt you, Catherine?”

  Shrinking back from him, she sank deeper into the pillows. “No one,” she said in barely more than a whisper.

  “Let me help you.”

  “I can’t stay here. I won’t accept charity from the aristocracy.”

  “The way I see it, you don’t have much choice. You’re sick, weak, most likely far from home, alone, unprotected. Need I go on?” When she only glowered at him, he continued. “I can help you, but only if you’re honest with me.”

  “And what will you tell the duke?”

  “He is to be away for some months and trusts me to manage his affair
s in his absence.”

  “I can’t stay in his home. I just can’t.”

  “We may be able to make other arrangements, so you wouldn’t have to stay under his roof, per se.”

  She stared at him, mouth agape. “Why would you do such a thing for someone you barely know?”

  “I told you. It’s all too quiet around here when the duke is away. Helping you will give me something interesting to do.”

  She gave him an arch look, which, along with her fever-reddened cheeks, only added to her overwhelming appeal. “And what, pray, will you expect in return?”

  He feigned shock. “My dear lady, I may not be a peer, but I am a gentleman.”

  “A gentleman who somehow found his way into my bed the day we met.”

  Derek couldn’t help but smile at her witty retort. “For that I would offer my most heartfelt apologies if I hadn’t so enjoyed holding you while you slept.”

  “You’re outrageous,” she huffed.

  He shrugged. “I speak only the truth. I have a proposition for you.” Was it his imagination or did she shrink farther into the mountain of pillows?

  “What kind of proposition?”

  “You’re looking for something that’s clearly important to you. I can provide access to the area in which you wish to look as well as food and shelter for as long as you’re a guest on the estate.”

  “In exchange for?”

  “The truth. Tell me who you are, what you’re looking for, how you managed to get so sick and dirty, who you’re running from and anything else I should know in order to justify my actions to the duke.”

  She rolled that plump lip between her teeth once more, sending a sharp bolt of lust straight to Derek’s cock. Had he ever envied another’s teeth before? Not that he could recall. He watched an array of emotions cross her expressive face—fear, trepidation, longing, desperation, distrust and despair. That last one made him feel small for forcing himself on her when she clearly wanted nothing more to do with him.

  Even though he’d been less than truthful with her, he hadn’t lied about wishing for something interesting to occupy his time. Since he was supposed to be in London for another few weeks, his schedule was open, and his regular duties delegated to others.

  He extended his hand. “Do we have a deal?”

  She glanced at his hand and then at his face. “Do I have any other choice?”

  “Not if you wish to continue digging on the duke’s property.”

  Scowling, she held out her hand. “Fine.”

  As Derek enclosed her soft hand between both of his, a charge traveled through his limbs to settle in his groin, and he wondered just who was fooling who.

  Chapter Three

  Catherine continued to nibble on her lip as she studied her handsome benefactor. Jack. The name suited him. Strong and competent. The two words came to mind before she could come up with anything better. His dark hair had a tendency to slip down over his right eye, which meant he had a tendency to use the fingers on his left hand to clear it away. She wondered if he had any idea how often he had cause to do so. Sharp lines and planes made up a face distinguished by soft brown eyes, high cheekbones and just a hint of a beard along a chiseled jaw. His face remained expressionless as he waited expectantly.

  Energy all but reverberated through him, reminding her of pictures she’d seen of panthers preparing to pounce. It occurred to her that she ought to be quite frightened of the power that simmered just below his civilized exterior. Instead, she was rather exhilarated.

  “Catherine?”

  Jolted out of her reverie, she brought her gaze back to find his trained on her. Hearing her name uttered from a mouth that conjured up thoughts of sinful kisses made her forget every other thought that had been running through her mind and brought her back to the problem at hand: How much did she dare tell him? Just enough to ensure his assistance, she decided. Once she’d found what she’d come for, she would slip into the night with the duke none the wiser. If only she had more time to determine whether the man called Jack could truly be trusted with her most treasured secrets.

  “Must we speak of it now?” she asked, flavoring her voice with a dose of exhaustion. “The fever makes me weary.”

  A look of genuine dismay crossed his handsome face. “My apologies. Please, by all means, rest.”

  But instead of getting up to take his leave as she’d expected, he only settled more deeply into the chair.

  “Do you intend to remain there all night?”

  “What if your condition should worsen?”

  “I’ll call for a maid.”

  “If I am right here, you won’t need to call for anyone.”

  Why the thought of needing him sent a shiver of anticipation rippling through her was something she could ponder later when he wasn’t so close.

  She tugged the covers up to her chin. “It’s quite improper for you to remain here when we are without a chaperone.”

  “I assure you that your virtue is quite safe with me.”

  Catherine wasn’t sure whether to be assured or insulted. “At any rate—”

  “Shhh. You need rest.” He tipped his head back and closed his eyes, crossing his arms over a broad chest. Through the sleeves of his linen shirt she could make out the distinctive shape of well-muscled arms. Her eyes fixated on the column of his throat—

  “You can’t sleep when your eyes are open,” he said, his voice husky with sleep.

  Aroused beyond measure, Catherine tingled from head to toe with a most inappropriate longing to have his long, muscular frame wrapped around her, to sleep in the embrace of his strong arms, to nuzzle her nose into the very spot where neck met shoulder.

  He sat up suddenly and leaned forward to rest a hand over hers. “You’re trembling. Does something hurt?”

  “No,” she managed to say.

  “Then you must be cold.” Before she could reply, he was up and out of the chair, tossing a log on the fire and stoking the flames, even though the room wasn’t particularly cold.

  Riveted to his every move, she stared at his long legs and taut backside as he tended the fire.

  He spun around and caught her staring. A hum of awareness crackled along with the fire as something urgent and alive passed between them in a moment more charged with excitement than any she had ever experienced.

  Her mouth suddenly dry, Catherine ran her tongue over her lip.

  Jack set his gaze on her mouth as a raw, hungry expression took the place of his usual guarded look. “Is that better?” he asked.

  “Oh,” she said, startled. “What?”

  “Are you still cold?”

  “No.” She wasn’t sure if it was the fever, the fire or the sudden awareness that the man who’d decided to watch over her wanted her fiercely, but Catherine burned from the inside out.

  He came closer to the bed. “You’re still trembling.”

  “I am a little chilled,” she said, settling on the less troublesome explanation for her body’s reaction to him.

  Rounding to the far side of the bed, he lifted the heavy blankets and slid in beside her.

  Shock reverberated through her body as he drew her close to him. “Sir! Whatever do you think?”

  “Let me warm you.” His sweet-smelling breath caressed her cheek, sending odd bolts of awareness coursing through her, not unlike the sensations wrought by the fever. However, unlike the fever, these bolts settled into tingles between her legs.

  Catherine lay rigid as he shaped his much larger body around hers.

  “The fever has caused you to be chilled,” he said.

  “Your cure is most unconventional.”

  He laughed softly, and Catherine wanted to turn into his embrace and cling to the comfort he offered. When had she last been held so sweetly? Not in longer than she could recall—and never by a man in a bed.

  “If anyone were to see us, I’d be ruined.”

  “No one will see us.”

  “You wield such power in the duke’s
home?”

  “I am in charge when he is not here.” His arm tightened around her, drawing her in even closer, until their bodies were aligned from shoulders to hips. “You’re still trembling.”

  “I’m no longer certain it is caused entirely by the fever.”

  At that his body seemed to tense beside her. “No?”

  “I’ve never been so close to a man.”

  “And what do you think so far?”

  Catherine swallowed the small amount of saliva that remained in her mouth. “It is rather provocative.”

  “Is it now?”

  She elbowed him. “You know it is.”

  He released a gasp that was half laughter when elbow connected with belly. “It’s supposed to be restorative.”

  Catherine surprised herself by laughing. She also couldn’t recall when she’d last laughed. “That is quite possibly the most outrageous thing you’ve said yet—and that is saying something.”

  “Mmm.”

  Was he actually going to sleep? How could he possibly sleep when they were in a bed together? And what, pray, was pressed against her back? Reaching between them to investigate, she encountered something hard and throbbing and—

  “Keep that up,” he muttered, “and you’ll find out just how provocative I can be.”

  Catherine realized she had her hand wrapped around his manhood and released a squeal of dismay.

  Jack laughed as she strained to break free of him. “Easy. You can’t get warm all the way over there.”

  “I can’t remain near you and that, that thing.”

  Another soft laugh rippled through his big frame, and Catherine decided she’d never been more riveted by anything in her life. He was so big and vital and aroused. By her. Despite being scandalized, she was also full of her own power.

  “I’ve been told my thing is quite nice.”

  He was also the most outrageous person she’d ever known. “I’m sure you’re rather accomplished in matters of fornication,” she sniffed.

  He raised a rakish eyebrow. “Want to find out?”

  “I do not! Remove yourself from my bed at once, or I shall call for someone.”

  “Everyone is asleep by now, which is what you should be as well.”

  “How do you expect me to sleep with a big, rutting beast in my bed?”