by Heather Boyd
Jessica bounced to her feet and caught Gillian’s hands. They moved aside toward a window, whispering furiously together. Jessica tugged her toward the hall, but Gillian resisted. She planted her feet as if she were an immovable object.
Nicolas hid a smile. He could sympathize with his daughter’s desire to leave all too well, and silently applauded Gillian’s refusal to give in to the girl. He exhaled slowly.
Patience was not his strong suit. He and Jessica had that in common. He wished he had a way to get everyone to leave right now without them knowing why.
Whitfield stood, came across the room, and shook his head. “Poorly done.”
“What?”
“That.” He gestured toward Jessica and Gillian, who now seemed to be arguing.
Jessica and Gillian glanced his way at the same moment and both looked away quickly. Had that been tears in Gillian’s eyes?
Concerned, Nicolas hurried toward her. “What is the matter?”
“Nothing of consequence, your grace,” Jessica murmured, shocking him to his boots. His youngest daughter had never once addressed him by his title in her entire life.
Whitfield appeared beside Jessica, and they exchanged a long look. She nodded eventually, but then smiled brightly at Nicolas. “Was there something on your mind?”
Gillian appeared too calm. Almost serene.
“I, ah,” he began, but Nicolas was utterly baffled. He caught Gillian’s eye quickly. “Mrs. Thorpe, might I have a word in private?”
Jessica tightened her grip on Gillian’s hand, eyes pleading. “She has a headache.”
He turned on Gillian. “Is that true?”
“Only a slight one, your grace.”
“Well, this will only take a moment, and then you must go upstairs to rest immediately,” he decided. There was no need for her to stay if she was unwell.
“I will rest soon enough,” Gillian promised, and then kissed Jessica’s cheek before she was finally released. “Please excuse me, Mr. Whitfield.”
“Of course,” Whitfield promised.
“This way.” Nicolas led her toward the entrance hall and paused there, in sight of everyone but still private enough that their conversation would not carry. “I’ve been trying to speak with you alone all day.”
Gillian shivered and her eyes rose to his. “Jessica needed me. You know how she can be.”
“I need you too,” he whispered. The look she gave him was far more serious than in recent days. Did she feel the change coming? She must see how very good they were together. Was she waiting for him to go down on bended knee before everyone now? He would not do that. He intended a very private proposal, followed by a great many kisses to celebrate when she agreed. “Come to my room tonight after dinner. There’s something we need to discuss.”
Her eyes widened. “What if someone were to see me?”
“No one will,” he promised. He had intended to ask for her hand in marriage as soon as his guests departed, but he couldn’t wait for tomorrow. It would not be the best beginning for their marriage to rush, but if they were found out, he was comforted by the fact that any scandal would be short lived. A month at most of unpleasantness and then happiness forever. “Please, Gillian. Find a way to come to me. I will wait all night if need be.”
Her chest rose and fell quickly, exposing her anxiety. She liked the idea but not the risk, and he could understand her hesitation. She did not know what was in his heart yet. She had to take it on faith that all would be well.
“I’ll try,” she whispered.
She slipped back into the drawing room instead of retiring, smiled at Jessica, and the pair remained inseparable all night, only parting long enough to take dinner at opposite ends of his dining table—mother and daughter already.
Chapter 12
Gillian slipped into Nicolas’ bedchamber as all the clocks in the house stuck eleven. The hour was late, but this might be the last and only night she could be with him again.
The thought of leaving the duke had become unbearable as the day progressed.
She almost had the door closed when she spotted him asleep in a chair by the window. She drank in her fill of his looks, the open throat of his shirt, and when her heart clenched, she realized she shouldn’t have come after all. She took a step back so as not to wake him.
Unfortunately, a board creaked beneath her foot and he woke immediately, and then smiled when he saw her. “Finally.”
“I apologize.” Gillian glanced around his large chamber. She’d have tonight, one last memory of him to last her a lifetime. His huge bed, his slightly rumpled state. His long bare feet carrying him across the room toward her.
“The pleasure of having you in my arms is always worth the wait.” He scooped her up and twirled her around. “I’m so glad to see you. There are so many things I need to say to you tonight.”
Gillian didn’t want to talk. She already knew the worst of it. Hearing him explain that she must leave would only make her cry. She brought her fingers to his mouth to stop his words, and then she replaced her fingers with her lips as he slid her down his body.
There was nothing more to say than this.
She was a fool who’d lost her heart.
Nicolas kissed her back hungrily and carried her toward his bed, seemingly pleased with her impatience. Once on her feet again, he held her so tightly that she was afraid this was his goodbye too. Gillian hated partings, especially the inadequate words spoken that failed to soothe. So, she undid the buttons on her gown instead.
Even though her hands were shaking, she managed four before he aided her. “You’re right, we can talk in the morning.”
In the morning, she’d slip away and do her best to avoid him just to spare herself the pain of being dismissed.
When her gown was pushed down to the floor, and her corset and shift removed, Nicolas pulled his shirt over his head.
She gaped at his perfection, his obvious strength, the sleek lines of his body made her mouth water. He was broad across the chest but wiry muscles graced his shoulders and arms. His stomach was flat and his hips, the only real glimpse of his skin she’d had before, were snuggly contained in a pair of black silk breaches.
“Do I please you?”
Gillian swallowed the lump in her throat. She bowed her head, resting her brow against his hot skin while she grappled with her chaotic emotions. Gillian ran her hands up and down his sides, marveling in the texture of his skin and becoming aroused by his warmth. “Yes.”
“There’s nothing to be ashamed about in wanting to be with me.”
“I am not ashamed.” She was heartbroken. She cared about him. She loved him and Jessica so much. They’d become her family.
She forced the hurt back and looked up into his face. She put her hand behind his head and pulled him down for a deep kiss before he saw too much in her expression to begin asking questions about.
All he wanted was her passion, and he’d have it all for this one last time. Tonight, she would know everything about his body and carry the memory of him forever in her heart.
She caressed the bulge in his trousers each time she drew back between kisses. “I need you.”
Nicolas swept her onto his huge bed and climbed up next to her. He stretched at her side and brushed against her bare skin, making her passions rise in a way her husband never had. She loved him. She loved everything about this wonderful, horrible man.
Gillian curled her arms around his shoulders and buried her face against his skin so he could not see the depths of her pain.
Thankfully, he mistook her urgency for passion and slid down the bed. He was more than ready to make love to her. He buried his face between her legs, impatient and demanding that she be aroused by him, satisfied by his skilled lovemaking.
And she would be. Despite the future they wouldn’t share, she craved his touch still.
She touched his head as he kissed her sex, and then lost herself in pleasure.
It did not take long before he had her poised at
the edge of a release and she came, crying out and then sobbed hard, knowing he’d never kiss her there ever again.
The duke rose above her, loosened his breeches, and shoved them down until he was bare from top to bottom. Then before she could memorize the slight curve of his cock, he wrapped her in his arms and joined with her. They fit together like two peas in a pod.
Every time they had made love before, there had been some awkwardness to overcome—a chair arm, a hard desk, shelving to distract her from what they were doing. She’d never realized how deeply she’d given herself over to Nicolas until he was inside her, sharing his bed, his body wrapped around her without a stitch of clothing between them.
This was love, passion, utter surrender to her own desires. Gillian hugged him close, losing herself in him. She wound her legs around his hips at his urging, her arms tight around his neck as he brought her closer to another release by just being with her like this.
He growled suddenly into her neck and held her tight as he shuddered and moaned her name without warning.
Overwhelmed by the warmth of his seed spilling inside her body, she came, too, smothering her cry into his shoulder, holding back the admission that she loved him.
When they settled, Nicolas rolled onto his back panting, keeping Gillian tight against his side. “I’ve been wanting to do that for so long.”
Gillian bit back a sob.
“We can’t keep sneaking around,” he informed her. “It’s better this way, isn’t it?”
Gillian nodded, miserable to her core. She wasn’t young but did he not realize that he might have gotten a child on her tonight? She’d thought she’d known him, but all she knew of him was what he’d chosen to reveal. “It is.”
She was left with no illusions about her place in his life. She huddled at his side, listening as his breathing evened out, and when she realized he was deeply asleep, Gillian crept from his bed, dressed in a hurry and fled to her room without looking back.
She didn’t wait for morning. Gillian was packed and ready to leave long before the sun ever rose.
Chapter 13
Nicolas looped Jessica’s arm through his and led her out of doors. She was subdued today again, so he’d stolen her away for a private word. She’d always been sensitive to his moods, and he feared she must have felt his impatience that the party end. He would tell her his plans today, swear her to secrecy, and then he was going to enlist her help to capture the elusive Gillian Thorpe alone at last. “Are you warm enough?”
She peered at him from under the two scarves he’d wrapped around her neck to ward off the chill of the cold morning. “I am very warm, thank you.”
“Good.”
He led her out into the snow-covered gardens, trampling across the lawns rather than risking their necks on paths that might be slippery with ice. He cast a glance behind him occasionally, checking no one was foolish enough to follow. “Are you well?”
“Yes.”
She did not sound it. She sounded utterly miserable. “Would you tell me if you were not happy?”
Jessica hesitated. “If I thought it would do any good.”
Nicolas stopped and faced his daughter. She meant the world to him, but he wanted Gillian to share his life too. It was important that his daughter understand that loving Gillian, marrying again, didn’t mean he loved her any less. He wanted to expand their family and increase their happiness. “It has been just the two of us rattling about this house for a good long while, hasn’t it?”
Jessica’s gaze turned flinty. “You’re going to marry.”
He grinned, pleased that she’d reached the same conclusion as he had recently. It was time. “I am. How do you feel about that?”
“I don’t like the idea.”
He took his daughter’s hands in his. “I want to marry. I promise that nothing will ever change. You will always be important to me.”
Jessica sobbed. “I don’t want to talk about that.”
He brought Jessica into his arms and held her tightly. “I know. But I must think and act with honor. Your sister has been haranguing me for years on the topic and until now, I felt no inclination to take a wife.”
“Well, if you’re so set on marrying, I demand a fair exchange and I get to keep Gillian as my companion.”
“That’s not possible, sweetheart.” He bent to whisper in her ear, “Gillian cannot remain your companion if I make her your new mother.”
Jessica pushed him back violently. “You want to marry my companion?” she almost shrieked.
He held out his hand to shush her and glanced about them. There was no one around, but Jessica’s voice might travel far on a cold day. “With all my heart.”
Jessica turned away, strode a few steps before returning. Her expression was incredulous. “Rebecca said you were going to dismiss Gillian and you would make me live with her in London. Is any of that true?”
He shook his head firmly, but was unsure what to make of Jessica’s reaction to his decision. Was she happy that he was in love or angry with him for choosing Gillian? Gillian would probably know which it was, but he could hardly have asked her to join them before he actually asked for her hand.
“Your sister sometimes hears only what she wishes to hear. I spoke to her about going to London with you and Gillian, of course.”
“That deceitful cow tried to trick us!” A look of wonder crossed his daughter’s face. “You would marry Gillian and come to London for the season, too, just for me?”
“No. I’ve fallen in love with Gillian, so the right thing to do of course is to ask for her hand in marriage and be wed. I had hoped we might be married in London right after the party guests leave. Discreetly, mind you, so your sisters cannot make a fuss about any rush and all that. What do you say to the idea that we explore the sights and sounds of London together, as a family, before the season truly begins?”
“With Gillian as my mother?” Jessica suddenly drew back, fingers raised to her lips. “Oh, dear.”
“What? Don’t tell me you disapprove of my choice? Were you not just asking to keep Gillian as your companion? Her being your mama will be much better for all of us, I promise.”
Jessica jumped up and down. “Yes, I approve of my new mother!” She hugged him tightly, which reassured him that he would not have problems in the future from that quarter.
But she drew back soon enough, still frowning. “Mrs. Hawthorne is not going to be happy.”
He tightened the scarf to cover Jessica’s pink nose and held out his arm. “Time to return indoors before you catch a chill. It might surprise you that I don’t particularly worry about Mrs. Hawthorne’s happiness in the grand scheme of things. It is none of her business whom I marry anyway. I want to spend the rest of my life with Gillian, and I will, if she will have me.”
Jessica winced but fell into step. “Mrs. Hawthorne has been trying to steal Gillian away to her employ for months. The news that you would send her away while I went to live with Rebecca has caused Gillian no end of pain and suffering.”
“I see. Well, as you see, Rebecca was wrong and no one is being sent away.”
“Do you really not understand, Papa?” Jessica stopped him. “Mrs. Hawthorne has succeeded. Gillian accepted the new position yesterday. She’s already packed to leave.”
“That’s impossible. Last night we—” He bit his tongue on the rest of that confession. Last night they hadn’t actually talked about anything important. They’d made mad, passionate love in his bed. He’d lost himself in Gillian because he’d thought it clear that he wanted her desperately and forever.
He turned back to stare at the house. Had he not been understood? That would mean Gillian thought him…an utter scoundrel.
“She would have told me,” he said, but deep down he thought maybe she would not have.
“Well, it is true that she believes you don’t want her around anymore.” Jessica tugged on his hand, dragging him toward the house. “You must tell her right now that she does not ne
ed to go anywhere!”
“I will.” He quickened his steps, and they met Whitfield at the nearest door.
The man folded his arms across his chest, a question in his eyes as he blocked their path.
Nicolas winced. “Where is she?”
“Papa is getting married again, Giddy,” Jessica told Whitfield with a wink. “Mrs. Thorpe will be my new mother. I’m so proud of you! Your plan worked beautifully.”
“What plan?”
“To get you wed.” Whitfield pursed his lips, and then laughed as he pulled several clumps of mistletoe from inside his coat. “I guess I can stop hanging these about the place, now that you’ve seen reason.”
“See that you do.” Nicolas scowled and snatched them up, glancing at his daughter with newfound suspicion. “Did you put mistletoe in my pockets because he told you to?”
“Of course.” Jessica twisted on the spot, grinning. “Who else do you allow to get that close?”
“Gillian. I accused her the first time.” He nodded, and then protested as Jessica gave him a hard shove. He stared at his good friend and daughter, not liking their collusion one bit. “Do I need to keep you two apart?”
“Oh, don’t. Giddy is my dearest friend, aside from Gillian, who will be my mama, which is entirely different.” She pushed him again. “Go!”
“You’re almost too late,” Whitfield warned as he stepped aside. “The Hawthorne’s carriage is already outside, waiting to take her to visit them today. I gave the Hawthornes’ coachman a coin to be slow about turning the carriage round, to give you time. Try the long gallery.”
He thumped his friend’s shoulder. “Keep an eye on Jessica, please.
“I always do,” Whitfield assured him with a wide grin.
Chapter 14
“My dear, you have done wonders with Jessica. I’m so glad I will be able to steal you from Stapleton,” Mrs. Hawthorne exclaimed as they stood before the hearth in the long gallery together while waiting for the Hawthorne’s coach. “I’m sure a month with you can whip my daughters into shape.”