Rogues and Ripped Bodices

by Samantha Holt

  “Thank you, Jacoby, that will be all.”

  The footman left and Alex took one last look at his reflection. Mistakes had been made, many of them on his behalf, but he would make up for that. If there really was no lover waiting around, he might have a chance at making this a real marriage. It was Christmas Eve, and he was going to seduce his wife.

  Chapter Seven

  He was surprised to see Emma already breakfasting when he entered the dining room. She had arisen so late the previous day he assumed she arose late most days. Behind the large dark mahogany table and in front of the oppressive wood panelled wall, she appeared delicate, almost out of place. Too fine for a dining room like this. He really had done her a disservice keeping her shut away in Scotland for a year.

  There was no red on her today, no slip of silk, though she looked as beautiful as ever—if not more. When she had become quite so beautiful to him, he wasn’t sure. Her attractiveness had always been apparent, but he had regarded it with a cold kind of fascination. Her normal rigid expression had always turned his heart to stone.

  But today, his heart warmed at the sight of her in another green gown. Trimmed with ribbons and with tiny buttons down the front, it warmed her cool complexion, as did her smile. It was genuine, he thought. Most of her behaviour towards him yesterday had been too. Including her concern over him. It bolstered his courage.

  “Good morning, did you sleep well?”

  No, he was tempted to say. No I did not. I couldn’t stop thinking of you in that slip of silk nor could I cease imagining peeling it away from you.

  Instead, he smiled genially and sat opposite her. “Very well, thank you.”

  He spooned some sugar into the cup already set out for him and helped himself to coffee. Breakfast was laid out over the table so he piled some eggs and toast onto his plate. She eyed the large plate of food with a twitch of her lips.

  “Hungry?”

  “Famished.”

  “I suppose being out of doors for much of yesterday has given you an appetite.”

  Alex thought it a fine excuse and nodded, but he’d always been one for eating a lot. It was a good thing he was so active or he would be the size of a house. He nodded towards her plate. “And what is your excuse?”

  He let his hand hover over his fork, cursing his thoughtlessness. Had he just insulted her? Yes, he probably had. What had he been trying to say? That she ate like a man? Or that she ate too much?

  But then she laughed. He let his hand drop to the fork and he dug into his eggs.

  “I always did have a large appetite, I shall admit that much, and I have no excuse like chopping down trees.”

  “Well, you did work hard on decorating it.” He cast his gaze down the top half of her. “If you eat like that all the time, you must tell me your secret.”

  “M-my secret?” A flash of fear darted across her face, making Alex’s insides twist.

  “How you eat so much but stay slender.”

  Her shoulders sagged and her smile was relieved. “Oh, yes, that. I don’t know really. My mother is slender, I suppose, so I must take after her.”

  Nodding, he stuffed the eggs in his mouth for want of any response. For a moment the lightness and joviality had been quite pleasant but then his mention of a secret had cloaked her silence. She had one, he just knew it. Was it her lover? Something else? All his hopes of pursuing a proper marriage had been dashed by that one word. If she could not be honest or... or faithful, then what was the point? He might as well get her with child and find some other mountain to climb.

  “What are your plans for today, Your Grace?”

  And now he was back to being Your Grace. The distance sat between them again, a chasm that could not be bridged. Not while secrets sat between them anyhow.

  “I’m going to look over the accounts and settle some business. I’m aware I’ve been neglecting this estate.”

  And her. But he didn’t say as much. They both knew it, and though she might not know he was aware of her lover, she couldn’t be so foolish as to believe this was how a marriage should be. Yes, plenty of married couples—particularly those with arranged marriages—spent much time apart, but the husband never usually ran for the hills before at least getting his wife with child.

  “I have looked after things to the best of my ability,” she said tightly.

  “I’m sure you have.”

  “You really don’t need to look everything over. Things are quite sound.”

  “Yet my staff are leaving and the fires go unlit.”

  “It was their choice to leave, Your Grace,” she said softly. “I would not stop them. And they were my staff too.”

  “You could have replaced them,” he snapped.

  “Why? When there was only me to look after? It seemed a mighty waste.”

  Alex lowered his fork and curled a hand around his cup of coffee. He took a sip and paused to relish the warmth and bitter tang. Already it seemed to clear the ache in his head and the gritty sensation of too little sleep. This was not how one was meant to go about seducing his wife. If he went around accusing her of mismanagement, he would never get her into bed and he would remain heirless forever.

  “I’m sure you have done what you can,” he replied carefully. “But it is still my estate and I should like to check things over. I will not have anyone accusing me of neglect.”

  “Very well.” Emma dropped her gaze but not before he saw a flicker of worry in her eyes. She struggled to lie to him, he noticed, which again had him doing battle with his beliefs of her infidelity. Something was amiss, but he wasn’t so sure it was to do with the fellow he had seen her embracing. So what in the devil was it?

  Chapter Eight

  It was hard not to pace outside the study door as Alexander pored over the books. Emma had tried to distract herself by going over the meal plan for Christmas Day with the cook but with only the two of them and then the small amount of servants to feed, it hardly needed much planning.

  Emma then tried to pen a letter to her brother, to tell him she couldn’t do it anymore. The estate simply would not cover his bills anymore. It wasn’t fair to Alexander. But guilt jabbed at her and she crumpled the paper and threw it in the fire.

  Was it Geoffrey’s fault their father had never claimed him? Was it his fault he had been orphaned at such a young age? How could a man be expected to better himself with no education and no family for support? She was all he had. He had never really asked for anything from her, but she knew he would struggle to survive without her aid, and he was her only sibling even if they only shared a father.

  She dropped her head to the desk and rested it against the cool leather for several moments. What would she do? Alexander was bound to figure out she was using estate money elsewhere and she certainly didn’t want to lie to him, but no one knew of Geoffrey’s existence, not even her mother. Her mother, for all her coldness, had loved her father. It would break her heart if the truth came out.

  Drawing in a breath, she lifted her head and wrung her hands together. Perhaps she should just tell the duke. She hadn’t been sure how he might react. With anger perhaps? That had seemed likely before. He had always seemed so annoyed with her, but after yesterday, she wasn’t so sure.

  Mr Hampton’s voice from the hall stirred her from her thoughts and she stood to investigate.

  “Shoo,” came the butler’s voice.

  Emma put her head around the door and saw a scraggy ball of fluff trying to chew on Mr Hampton’s leg. The butler attempted to shake off the animal and his cries of annoyance grew louder.

  “Shoo, bloody mutt.”

  She peered at the filthy ball and realised it was indeed a dog. She strode into the hallway and the butler froze, a dog hanging off his leg.

  “Oh, Your Grace, forgive me.”

  Emma had to smother a laugh at the sight of the stern-faced butler trying to ignore the dog who was becoming increasingly persistent. Growls emanated from the filthy ball of fur. She was still vaguely
annoyed with him for getting in the way of her seduction attempt so it was no less than he deserved, she decided.

  “Is there a problem, Mr Hampton?” Her serious tone cracked into a snigger.

  “No, Your Grace, just—”

  The dog’s growls increased in volume when Mr Hampton started shaking his leg again. Then the study door swung open and Alexander popped his head out. “What in the devil is that noise?” He glanced down to spot the dog and he stepped out of the study. “What is that?”

  “Nothing, Your Grace,” Mr Hampton said, his face as stern as ever.

  Emma released a bubble of laughter and Alexander glanced at her, at first surprised, then his eyes crinkled and he grinned.

  “It doesn’t look like nothing, Hampton. Would you like a hand?”

  “No, Your Grace. I can manage it.” He shook his leg again.

  This time the laughter consumed her and Emma felt tears welling in her eyes. “Oh, Alexander, do help poor Mr Hampton.”

  Laughing, Alexander bent to try to disengage the dog from the butler’s leg. After much growling and shaking, the dog released his trouser leg only to latch into Alexander’s jacket sleeve. Emma found herself almost doubled over with laughter.

  “What the devil—”

  “He has taken a liking to you, Your Grace,” Emma said, swiping her eyes. “Wherever did you find him, Mr Hampton?”

  “I had just stepped out to find Mr Thompson who was bringing in some firewood and this thing followed me in and attached himself to me.”

  Taking pity on Alexander, who was having no luck getting the dog to leave him alone, Emma persuaded him to keep his arm still while she clutched the soaking, filthy dog and rubbed behind his ears.

  “Be careful,” Alexander warned her. “Don’t let him bite you.”

  “He won’t bite me. Just keep still. You’re scaring him.”

  “Scaring him?” He looked at her incredulously. “He’s the one biting my arm.”

  “Shh... Poor love, he’s so cold and wet. He’s probably worried you’ll send him back out in the cold.”

  “And I won’t?”

  She gave him a stern look. “No, you will not.” She continued to pet the dog until he stilled and finally released Alexander’s sleeve. Alexander shook out his arm and eyed the damage to his jacket with a scowl.

  Emma bundled the wet creature against her, ignoring the stain he created on her gown and how damp her sleeves had grown while handling him. “Mr Hampton, will you send for some warm milk and see if we have some cooked ham from last night left?”

  Mr Hampton looked as though he would rather walk over hot coals, but regardless the butler turned and headed towards the kitchens.

  Carrying the dog to the drawing room, she pulled off the same blanket she had bundled Alexander up in from the chair and wrapped it around the dog before kneeling in front of the fire. “Poor creature,” she cooed to the pup.

  Alexander stood over her for a while as she rubbed the dog’s fur. Once some of the grime was gone, his white colouring became apparent and the dog’s pink tongue hung from his mouth.

  “He likes you,” Alexander said somewhat begrudgingly.

  “He’s a fine dog. Just a little mucky and cold. Poor thing.”

  Alexander came to kneel next to her and lifted the dog’s paw before checking in the creature’s mouth. The dog had become quite placid with Emma’s attentions and seemed happy to be prodded and poked. Seeing the duke’s large, tanned hand against the pup’s fur sent a well of longing through her.

  “He’s not in bad health though he’s only young. He’s going to be a beast of an animal.”

  “How do you know?”

  Alexander lifted one large paw. “Look at the size of these. He’ll grow into them.”

  “Well he’s only one dog. How much room can one dog take up? We won’t send him back out there, will we?”

  The duke’s expression softened and he rubbed a hand over the dog’s head. “No, no we won’t.”

  Mr Hampton arrived with a tray and placed it on the table with a look of disgust.

  “Mr Hampton,” Emma called before the butler could leave. “Will you have the maids bring in and fill a small tub. I should like to clean him up.”

  Alexander grinned as Mr Hampton pivoted and left the room, muttering something about filthy animals. “I am assuming you mean the dog, though we are both a little worse for wear.” He motioned to his sleeve and her gown.

  She laughed. “I have no intention of cleaning a grown man.”

  “If I roll about in mud and get myself soaked to the skin, might you change your mind?”

  Images of sleek, hard muscles, wet and soapy, flitted through her thoughts. The fire seemed too close all of a sudden and she drew back a little. His gaze skimmed her body and her nipples tightened against her bodice. Then his grin was back and the moment vanished. Emma didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed.

  “What shall we call this mutt then?” he said as he stood to bring over the milk and ham.

  “He’s not a mutt, are you?” She cradled the dog’s face and received a lick to her hands. “How about Snowy?”

  He made a face and placed the milk in front of the animal. The dog wasted no time in slurping up the milk and once Alexander placed down the platter of ham, the creature wolfed that down too. “Greedy more like. But Snowy? Not very original.”

  “Does it need to be original? He’s white... well, sort of white, and he came in from the snow. I think it’s just perfect.”

  “Very well, Snowy it is then.” He rubbed a hand behind the dog’s ear. “Looks like you’ve found yourself a new home, Snowy.”

  Emma sank onto her bottom and took in the scene. Snowy scrabbled his paws up Alexander’s arm and gave him a long lick across his face. Her husband chuckled and fought to keep the dog at bay. Emma’s heart warmed. To think she had been so intimidated by her husband. She really hadn’t known him well at all. Would he understand about her brother? Was there a chance for something more than an empty marriage for them? Seeing him now, with his warm smile and crinkled eyes, she realised it wasn’t just a baby she wanted from him. She wanted a proper marriage.

  She would have to tell him. It was the only way. All she had to do was summon the courage.

  The maids brought in a small tub of warm water and soap, placing it in front of the fire. Alexander shed his jacket and rolled his sleeves up, apparently committed to getting the filthy animal clean. Her own sleeves would not go far up but her gown was already covered in grime and melted snow, so Emma resigned herself to getting a little wet.

  Together they coaxed the dog into the water and amidst splashing and a few barks, they scrubbed him clean, Alexander holding him down while she rubbed his fur. By the time they had finished, they were soaked, Snowy lived up to his name and the water was filthy.

  Holding out the blanket, Emma wrapped it around Snowy as the duke handed him over. She rubbed the dog as best as she could but he wriggled quickly out of her hold and shook himself off before settling on one of the chairs, his chin resting on an arm. They both laughed.

  “I guess that’s all the thanks we’re going to get for giving him a home.”

  “He does look quite right there though, does he not?”

  Alexander tilted his head to view the dog and laughed. “He does not. She does, however.”

  “She?”

  “Yes, you are the mama of a beautiful girl, it seems, Your Grace.”

  An ache formed in her chest. He could have no idea how much she longed for a little girl—or a little boy—to look after. This year had been the loneliest of her life. Her mother had remarried shortly before her own wedding and was enjoying her new life with her husband. Not that Mother had ever been one to take much time with her daughter. The only thing she thought could end her loneliness would be a child. But now she was not so sure. Could Alexander be the key to her happiness after all?

  His grin dropped and he stared at her, his gaze seeming to rea
ch deep inside her to pull at her heart. A wet hand came towards her and pressed into her hair that had steadily come loose from its pins. “I didn’t mean to upset you,” he said roughly.

  How perceptive of him. She had thought him quite in ignorance of her feelings, but perhaps there was more to the duke than a simple boyish attitude and a tendency to seem annoyed with her.

  “I’m not upset.” Her voice was but a shadow of itself as his wet palm cradled her face. It should have felt cold but instead her skin flamed at the coarse touch. Here was the hand of a man of action. Alexander was no pampered duke, no lazy, self-indulgent nobleman. As much as it frustrated her that his passion for outdoor activity had taken him from her, she could not help admire his courage and determination.

  If only he would turn some of that determination on her. But perhaps she could summon enough for both of them. Perhaps her determination to have a proper marriage would be enough.

  On their knees, they inched closer. Her clothes and hair were wet and the sleeves of his shirt were almost transparent. He had several drops of water trickling down his face so she swept some away from his brow. His hand slipped around the back of her neck. She found herself struggling to remember to breathe.

  Her lips parted and they both rose fully onto their knees. She looped her arms around his neck. It happened so agonisingly slowly, but she could only relish each moment as their bodies pressed together, hip to hip, chest to chest. Against the broad strength of him, she perhaps should have felt intimidated or fragile, but she felt strong, protected, as though his power fed into her.

  Warm, firm lips met hers. His grip on the back of her neck tightened. No thrum of apprehension ran through her, only a shimmer of excitement. Alexander parted his lips and coaxed hers apart to slide his tongue into her mouth. He tasted of coffee and she met his tongue with her own. The sensation of heat and warmth was enough to make her moan.

  The kiss didn’t last long enough, but it left her feeling hot and tingly. He did not break away entirely when it ended. He kept his hand on her neck and used the other to sweep away some damp curls from her face.