Duchess by Deception

by Marie Force

  Derek sat to remove his boots but kept one eye on his lovely bride. When the flurry of maids departed, Catherine seemed suddenly shy and uncertain. Derek got up and went to her.

  “What is it, my love?”

  “Your duke must be very powerful if his employees receive this type of treatment.”

  Of all the things he thought she might say, that wasn’t one of them.

  “I’m sure the word rippled through the village when the duke’s carriage arrived.” He leaned in to kiss her softly. “Now how about we get you into that tub before the water cools.”

  She turned her back to him. “Would you mind?”

  Derek stared at the daunting row of buttons that joined two panels of delicate lace and reached for the top button. “How in the world did you get into this so quickly?”

  “The magistrate’s wife was quite handy.”

  “I’d say so.” He nuzzled the smooth skin on her neck as his oddly clumsy fingers fumbled with the buttons. Derek groaned, which made her giggle. “How can I find the man who first decided to put so many confounded buttons on a wedding dress and throttle him?”

  “Do you suppose the duke’s grandfather once asked that very question on his wedding day?”

  The question stopped Derek mid-button. He swallowed hard. “If he found his wife half as delightful and desirable as I find mine, I’m certain he was equally frustrated.”

  She released an impatient sigh. “Hurry, Jack.”

  Hearing her call him Jack brought back the hollowed-out feeling he’d lived with for so long and reminded him once again of his deception. Telling himself it was worth it to keep her safe from Lindsey, he pushed those unsettled thoughts aside to concentrate on the task at hand and quickly finished with the buttons. With his hands on her shoulders, he nudged the dress into a puddle at her feet, leaving her in only a serviceable shift.

  She turned to him, arms folded across her breasts, cheeks pink with embarrassment. “I wish I had something prettier to wear for you tonight.”

  Derek vowed in that moment that she would have the finest of everything—silks and satins and velvets. One day, he hoped she’d embrace her new standing as his duchess. Until then, unadorned muslin was as enticing as anything he’d ever seen, he thought as he bent to retrieve the priceless dress from the floor. “You need nothing more than you yourself to please me tonight, my lovely wife.” As if it were something they had done hundreds of times before, he helped her out of the shift and into the tub.

  Slipping into the warm water, she let out a satisfied moan that sent a jolt of desire straight to his already hardened cock.

  He knelt down next to the tub. With his eyes fixed on her face, he rolled up the sleeves of his white linen shirt.

  She watched his every move, her lips parted in anticipation. Raising her arm from the side of the tub, she ran her fingers languidly through his hair, the gesture so loving and tender it brought a lump to his throat. How long had it been since anyone had touched him so lovingly? More years than he cared to count.

  “What are you thinking, my darling?” she asked softly.

  “That since my grandmother died, no one has caressed my hair or called me their darling.”

  Her eyes softened with emotion. “Then I shall do so every day for the rest of your life.”

  Taking her roving hand, he pressed his lips to the palm. “Nothing would please me more.” Would he still be her darling when she learned he was the duke? God, he hoped so, but deep inside a terrible coil of fear sent chills up his spine. Now that he had found her, how would he ever do without her? And it wasn’t enough to just have her. No, he wanted her heart, her soul and her love.

  She ran a finger over his furrowed brow. “So very serious.”

  Startled from his thoughts, he smiled at her imitation of his serious face.

  “Your face is utterly transformed by that rakish grin.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Mmm.”

  He helped her to wash her long hair and then dried it with a towel by the fire before dipping into the tepid water to wash the dust and road dirt from his own body. In the candlelight, his wife watched him from the four-poster bed. Her eager expression had him rushing through a quick shave.

  She looked so trusting, so certain of the enormous step they had taken together that day—just the third day since they had first set eyes on each other—and suddenly, Derek couldn’t bear the deception a moment longer. He couldn’t bear that trusting expression on her face when almost everything he’d told her had been a lie. Wrapping the damp towel around his waist, he forced his gaze to meet hers.

  “There is something I must tell you.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Catherine had watched his expression become deeply troubled. Whatever was bothering him, however, tonight was not the time for such worries. They had a lifetime ahead to contend with whatever concerns might arise. She had no doubt that he loved her and was pleased to be married to her. Tonight, that was more than enough for her.

  She sat up in bed, let the covers drop to her waist, and held out her arms to him.

  At the sight of her naked breasts, an expression of needy hunger stole the furrow from his brow.

  “Come to me, my love,” she whispered.

  Jack released the towel and slid naked between the cool sheets. Reaching for her, he wrapped his strong arms around her and buried his face in her hair.

  As a light dusting of chest hair tickled her nose, she breathed in the clean scent of citrus and leather that only added to his overwhelming appeal.

  “We need to talk,” he said.

  “Tomorrow.” She ran a hand up and down his muscular back, wanting to memorize each detail of her husband’s magnificent body. “We’ll have all the time in the world to talk about whatever has you so troubled.”

  He looked directly at her. “I haven’t the first regret about marrying you, Cat. I hope you know that.”

  The heated erection pressing against her provided adequate proof that he spoke the truth. “Of course I do. Nor have I any regrets.” She ran her fingers through his hair in a gesture of comfort more than seduction. “None at all.”

  As they lay on their sides facing each other, his lips moved on her neck, sending desire darting through her, while his hands stroked her back and cupped her bottom.

  “Jack,” she gasped, tightening her arms around his neck, overwhelmed by the feel of his warm skin against hers. How was it that just a few days ago she had never known such desire, and now she could no longer conceive of a life without it?

  He turned them, so he was on top, gazing down at her. “I never imagined this, Catherine.”

  “What didn’t you imagine?”

  “That I would find a wife whom I love and desire the way I do you.”

  The softly spoken words brought tears to her eyes. “And I never imagined that my father’s elevation to the aristocracy, his boorish behavior and my hideous alliance with my former fiancé would lead me to you.”

  Jack’s smile transformed his face. “One never knows, does one?”

  Catherine returned his smile. “Certainly not. How so many bad things can lead to the very best thing.”

  He dipped his head to tease her nipple with his lips and tongue. “The very best thing indeed.” Continuing the sensual torture, he said, “I had planned to kiss you everywhere and make you moan the way you did yesterday, but I find that I want to be inside you more than I want my next breath.”

  Stirred by his words and the emotion behind them, she reached for him. “Then don’t wait, Jack. Don’t wait.”

  As he slid his pulsating member through the dampness between her legs, his face tightened with tension. When he pushed into her, the tension seemed to leave him. “Nothing has ever felt better than this.”

  If she could have spoken, Catherine would have agreed.

  “Does it hurt, my love?” he asked, concern once again marking his features.

  Catherine reached up to caress the worry fro
m his face. “It feels heavenly.” That seemed to spark something primal in him, and he began to move with more purpose. The tingling sensation between her legs began anew, but this time, knowing it would lead to paradise, Catherine welcomed the intense rush. Gripping his broad shoulders, she encouraged his fierce possession by lifting her hips to meet each thrust. Just when she thought he was going to drive them both over the precipice, he slowed, hovered above her and gazed down at her.

  Undone by all she saw in that intense gaze, Catherine trembled.

  He dipped his head and caught her nipple between his teeth, sending a charge directly to that sensitive place between her legs. She cried out and tumbled over the edge. Jack drove into her, finding his own release in the midst of hers.

  * * *

  Simon Eagan made use, as he often did, of his illustrious cousin’s name and title to gain entry to Lord and Lady Crenshaw’s ballroom. As the nephew and cousin of a duke, Simon operated happily on the outer fringes of the ton, accepted—when he chose to be—by a society too polite to risk alienating the duke by casting disfavor upon his cousin and close confidant.

  Since Lord Crenshaw was a distant cousin to Lord Lindsey, Simon had figured he was most likely to find the odious viscount here as opposed to some of the other equally disagreeable Society events being held this week.

  Simon’s reputation for carousing, womanizing, gambling, drinking and a variety of other pastimes that kept him entertained preceded him into the glittering ballroom, and he felt the eyes of everyone in the vast room on him as he sought out friendly faces. He had worked hard to cultivate his less-than-stellar reputation as well as the air of indifference he wore as easily as a waistcoat. Both usually served him quite well by keeping him far, far away from ballrooms such as this, where his hard-won reputation was nothing but a dreadful liability.

  Relief swept through him when Justin, Lord Enderly, waved to him from across the dance floor. On the way to join him, Simon nodded politely to a number of people he recognized but couldn’t name if a pistol were pressed to his temple. Lady something or other tittered with distress when Simon brushed past her, as if his filthy reputation might actually rub off on her and her debutante daughter. Simon fought back the urge to press a kiss to the woman’s doughy cheek, chuckling to himself as he imagined her succumbing to the vapors if he dared to actually kiss her.

  “Thank goodness you’re here,” he said to Justin once he finally reached him. Simon had been a year behind Derek and Justin at Eton, and the three of them had been fast friends.

  “Better yet, what the devil are you doing here?”

  Simon nodded to Aubrey Nelson, the American, a newer friend of his cousin’s whom Simon had met once before at Tattersalls. “I’m here on Westwood’s behalf.”

  Enderly stared at him in amazement. “Is that so? I thought he had taken his leave of the city.”

  “Indeed, he has. I’m looking for Lord Lindsey. Have you seen him?” The question was met with silence and perplexed stares.

  “Whatever do you want with that swine?” Enderly asked.

  “I’m interested in his whereabouts at the moment.”

  “I couldn’t tell you. I haven’t seen him in weeks.”

  Simon’s hopes fell at that news. Deep inside he’d hoped to be able to report back to Derek that Lady Catherine’s fiancé couldn’t give a fig that she had fled the city and was carrying on with the Season as if nothing at all were amiss. Simon should’ve known better. Of course, Lindsey was out looking for her. It would be a matter of pride. “And the Earl of Brisbane? Is he in attendance tonight?”

  Enderly’s sharp blue eyes traveled up and down the length of Simon. “What are you about, Eagan?”

  “The duke has asked me to gather some information. I am merely tending to his request.”

  “The last time we saw the duke,” Nelson interjected, “he was running for his life from this very scene. You’ll have to pardon us if we find your inquiries curious at best.”

  “There have been some developments.” Simon chose his words carefully. Even though Enderly was one of Derek’s closest friends and Nelson a favored acquaintance, Simon had decided he would tell no one about Catherine and what had transpired since Derek left the city. Not, at any rate, until he knew more about the situation his cousin found himself in.

  “What kind of developments?” Enderly asked.

  “I’m not at liberty to say. Could you please, if you are so inclined, point out the earl?”

  Enderly studied Simon for another long moment before he nodded his head. “There. With his wife and daughter.”

  Simon looked to where Enderly indicated and felt the air seep from his lungs in one sharp gasp. For there, standing next to the gray-haired earl, was the most exquisite creature Simon had ever beheld. Blond hair, so light and bright it might’ve been spun from gold itself. Almond-shaped eyes that were dark blue or maybe even violet. A pretty, pink bow of a mouth and a button nose. Tall, with a hint of generous curves beneath the bodice of an icy-blue silk gown, she fairly shimmered.

  The observations came at him, one after another, a new one before he could begin to process the previous one. Never, in all his twenty-nine years, had he noticed more than one thing at a time about any woman, and never had he taken such particular notice of a lady of the ton. They were always far more trouble than they were worth. But this one . . . This one . . .

  “Simon? What is it?”

  Enderly’s voice invaded the stupor into which Simon had been drawn as he gazed at the face of an angel. She spoke, he noticed, with her hands, a habit her mother apparently didn’t abide as she corrected her daughter twice in the short time Simon stood transfixed. Admonished, the angelic creature hooked her index fingers together in front of her in an obvious attempt to contain her enthusiasm. No! Simon wanted to shout. How dare you smother the life out of such a glorious creature? But he could say no such thing. He could only stare and hope that, at some time in the distant future, his heart would begin to beat normally again.

  “Ahh,” Nelson said with a knowing smirk. “Young Simon has noticed Brisbane’s daughter, the very enticing Lady Madeleine.”

  “Who is only the belle of the Season,” Enderly added with dry amusement.

  Before Simon could disabuse them of their observations, Lady Madeleine glanced in his direction. Their eyes met, and again Simon felt the air leave his lungs in a great whoosh. Navy. Her eyes were most definitely a dark navy blue, and at the moment, they were studying him with curiosity. Catherine’s sister, he realized. If Derek had experienced anything near the same reaction to meeting Catherine, Simon could well understand why she was now under his cousin’s protection.

  “You can’t be serious, Simon,” Enderly said in tone rife with disdainful laughter, but Simon pretended not to hear him. He was already on his way to the other side of the dance floor. He was already on his way to her. About halfway there, it occurred to him, in the midst of the fog he’d fallen into, that he couldn’t just approach her without a proper introduction.

  Panic-stricken at the thought of her getting away, Simon glanced back over his shoulder at Enderly. Rolling his eyes, Enderly shook his head. Simon pleaded silently. With a growl, Enderly strode across the floor to meet Simon. Taking him by the elbow, Enderly said, “I’ll introduce you, but not until you tell me what Derek wants with Lindsey.”

  Simon searched her out again. There, right where he’d last seen her, surrounded by her parents and a bevy of young bucks working up the nerve to approach her. “It’s a private matter.”

  “If you want to meet her, you’ll tell me what private matter Derek has with Lindsey.” Enderly stopped walking, his usually amiable face set in an expression Simon hadn’t seen before. He glanced at Madeleine, who again met his gaze, before he tore his eyes away to meet Enderly’s. “It involves Lindsey’s fiancée.”

  “I hadn’t heard Lindsey was betrothed. What does she have to do with Derek?”

  Simon tugged on his collar. “That’s som
ewhat of a long story.”

  Enderly gestured to Madeleine. “If you want to meet her, you’ll tell me the long story. Quickly.”

  The young bucks were creeping closer to her while she remained aloof, her eyes still trained on Simon. Desperate, he said, “Derek met her on the way home. She had run away from Lindsey, who was unkind to her, and I believe Derek is quite besotted with her. He asked me to determine whether Lindsey—or her father, the Earl of Brisbane—is looking for her.”

  “Interesting,” Enderly said, scratching his chin. “All of this in just a few days’ time?”

  “I told you what you wanted to know. Will you introduce me? Please?”

  “She’s so far above your station, it’s comical,” Enderly said as they made their way to the earl’s group.

  “I am the cousin of a duke,” Simon said indignantly.

  “You are a rakehell of the first order, and her mother won’t let you anywhere near her.”

  Thanks to a generous behest from his late uncle and Derek’s winning instincts when it came to growing money, Simon was, in fact, filthy rich in his own right. But Justin was quite correct—Lady Madeleine’s parents would hardly care about his money when stacked against his reputation. Blast it all! For the first time that he could recall, Simon experienced a tinge of shame over how he’d spent the last ten years. “I’m a successful, wealthy businessman with ties to the highest realm of the aristocracy,” Simon said.

  “For all the good that will do you when your skirt-chasing reputation makes its way to Lord and Lady Brisbane.”

  “I’ve stopped all that foolishness.”

  “As of when?” Enderly asked with a snort.

  “About five minutes ago.”

  Despite that somewhat shocking statement, Enderly managed to paste a smile on his handsome face as they approached the earl and his family. “Lord Brisbane, Lady Brisbane, Lady Madeleine, may I present Simon Eagan, first cousin to the Duke of Westwood?”

  “Westwood, you say,” Lord Brisbane said, his chest pumped out as he shook hands with Simon.

  Was it Simon’s imagination or did Lady Brisbane cringe when he bowed before her. So, she’d already heard about him, had she? “Pleased to make your acquaintance, my lord and my lady.”