Enchanting the Duke (The Seven Curses of London Book 11)

by Lana Williams

  Unfortunately, he didn’t seem to have a similar issue. In fact, she wasn’t certain he even liked her.

  If she wanted her marriage to be more than simply a business arrangement, she needed to make some changes. Developing more qualities that would make her a better duchess was something she wanted for herself and might make Douglas respect her more. While she knew how to manage a household, was well educated, and knew how to do much of what a lady should know, she could do better.

  What might happen if she turned her attention to more serious matters, particularly ones that were important to her husband? She’d found a book in his library that she thought could be helpful and had started reading it. There was more to life than what she’d experienced thus far. She didn’t understand all he did. But the tenants and their lives mattered to her, and the more she knew, the better fit they’d be. The charity for orphans and neglected children was wonderful and she looked forward to lending a hand with it, but she mainly wanted to help those who lived on Rothbury land. They were her priority.

  Over the coming days, she would watch Lillian to better understand what her involvement was in various matters. Staying busy had the added benefit of quelling her loneliness. Satisfied with her plan, she spent the next hour admiring the baby, even taking a turn holding the sweet infant, before at last going to change for dinner.

  Babette was waiting for her and assisted Eleanor to quickly change. Then Eleanor sat at the dressing table while the maid rolled her hair into a soft chignon, leaving a strand or two loose.

  Eleanor’s nerves calmed as the time for dinner drew near, and Douglas didn’t make an appearance. The extra time to adjust to the notion of staying in the same chamber with him was welcome.

  The maid had just finished her hair when the door opened behind her.

  “Almost ready?” Douglas asked.

  She met his eyes in the reflection of the cheval glass, suddenly breathless. He was already dressed for dinner, and the formal black attire made him even more handsome. He must’ve dressed while she’d been with Lillian. “Yes.”

  Babette gave her hair one last check then stepped back. “Will that be all, your grace?”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  Babette took her leave before Eleanor realized she hadn’t asked the maid to help her to fasten the gold locket Eleanor wanted to wear. After locating the necklace, she attempted to fasten it, knowing she could do it easily if her husband weren’t watching so closely. Heat rushed in her cheeks when the clasp eluded her grasp for the third time.

  “Allow me.” The deep timbre of his voice sent shivers along her skin though she did her best to ignore it.

  But the feel of his warm fingers against the back of her neck was impossible to dismiss and caused her to draw a quick breath.

  “Thank you,” she managed, hoping he wouldn’t note the gooseflesh covering her body.

  A long pause followed, making her wonder what he was doing back there since he hadn’t stepped away. Then she felt the heat of his body along her bare neck and his familiar scent wrapped around her in an embrace.

  “You are welcome.” The heat disappeared but his appealing scent lingered. He stepped around to face her and lifted the locket to examine it. “That’s pretty.”

  “A gift from my grandmother.” She dropped her gaze, berating herself for mentioning that. As if he would care.

  “Hmm.” Yet still he held the locket.

  She glanced up to find him even closer. A deepening awareness rose within her, setting her body aflame. The necklace served as a tether between them, delicate and so easily breakable, reminding her of their bond if the connection could be called that.

  They were rarely so close to each other when the lights were this bright. She drank in his appearance greedily, noting his long dark lashes, the flecks of gold in his green eyes, the shadow of whiskers along his firm jaw, his lips that brought her such pleasure when pressed against hers.

  Her breath caught even as her pulse thrummed.

  How she wished the passion he showed for her during his weekly visit to her bed extended beyond that to moments like this. The shared emotion might be enough to build on, to make their marriage more.

  “I don’t remember either of my grandmothers.”

  She pondered his quiet words, trying to regain her grip on the conversation. He never spoke of his family. Not even his grandfather, though she knew he’d been raised by him for much of his life. She hesitated, trying desperately to think of a way to expand the conversation. If he only knew how much she wanted to know more about him despite telling herself she didn’t care. Yet she feared sharing that wish would cause him to withdraw, much like he had the few times she’d felt a connection with him.

  An amusing story about her grandmother was on the tip of her tongue. But that would never do. She wanted to prove to him that she was serious and thoughtful, not flighty and entertaining.

  “I owe my thanks to Grandmother Taylor for insisting my education went beyond the normal topics for young ladies. She and my mother frequently argued over the issue. Luckily, Grandmother Taylor won with my father’s approval.” She reached up to take the locket from him and opened it. “She put a tiny drawing of the Matterhorn on one side to remind me to reach high in all I do.”

  The fine lines around his eyes crinkled ever so slightly as he studied the sketch. That was closer to a smile than she’d received in a long while. She took that as a victory, no matter how small.

  But she wanted more, just as her grandmother had taught her. She had to keep trying. Moments like this restored her hope and determination. The next few days would be an interesting test to see if she could gain more ground with the enigmatic man who stirred her so.

  “Shall we?” she asked then stepped back and walked to the door without waiting for an answer. She could only hope she’d left him wanting more.

  Chapter Three

  Douglas turned over once more, unable to find a comfortable position on the mattress as a clock somewhere in the house chimed twice. Surely, his continued restlessness was only because this was the first night sleeping in a strange place even if the chamber was well-appointed.

  He gave himself a mental shake. No reason to lie. The lure of Eleanor next to him was the problem. Denying it didn’t change the truth. He’d waited until he was sure she’d fallen asleep before retiring for the evening. It had taken a long while for him to find slumber when he’d finally joined her, but he’d woken some time later to find her curled against his side, and his body hardened instantly.

  He’d shifted away and put his back to her but soon after, they were pressed against each other again. If he sated his need for her, he might be able to sleep, but he resisted the urge. He only allowed himself one night each week to indulge in the feel of her wrapped around him.

  “Never allow the need for something, especially a woman or spirits, to guide your actions.” His grandfather had advised him of that more times than he could count. Grandfather insisted indulging in such actions weakened the mind and body.

  That was the mistake his father had made time and again. His indulgent behavior ruined him and nearly ruined the duchy when his grandfather was left with no choice but to pay off debt after debt incurred by both of his parents. Everyone around them had paid a high price for their actions, including Douglas.

  His grandfather insisted love for any person or thing made one weak. Avoiding that was something Douglas promised to himself and his grandfather, and he wasn’t about to break that vow.

  In the light of day, it had been easy to think sharing a bed with Eleanor would be simple. But it wasn’t. He blamed it on the moment he’d fastened her locket. He’d been grateful for the excuse to allow him to draw closer and touch her. Even now, he could visualize the delicate curve of her neck as she tipped her head forward. The pale, soft skin scented with lilac had teased him, the urge to press his lips to her delicate nape nearly overwhelming.

  Burbridge and his duchess also shared in the blame.
The two of them seemed to thoroughly enjoy each other and acted as if they were the best of friends, not merely husband and wife. Douglas had never seen anything like it and found their behavior disconcerting.

  He was waiting to see the telltale signs of weakness in Burbridge. In fact, he’d told himself the house party itself was a sign of indulgent behavior.

  But from the way Burbridge spoke, he was up to date and thoroughly involved in managing his duchy. Perhaps more would be revealed in the coming days. Already the conversations on crops and farming techniques had been helpful. Hearing what worked well for others would benefit his efforts to improve his holdings.

  Farming techniques—that was it. He need only focus on such things to curb this restlessness. He recounted their discussion on clipping hops and felt his body relax. Then his wife released a soft sigh and rolled toward him, placing her hand on his bare chest.

  He should’ve instructed his valet to bring him something to sleep in, but Douglas was normally too warm at night. Eleanor’s hand shifted along his chest and once again his rod stiffened.

  Blast it all. He was the master of his mind and body. He repeated the phrase silently, forced his muscles to relax, and drew long, slow breaths.

  Eleanor rolled onto her side, facing away from him, taking temptation with her. Thank goodness. Now he could get some sleep.

  ~*~

  Eleanor was having a lovely dream. Her husband’s warm hand moved over her back, massaging the muscles until her entire body felt pliant as she lay on her side facing away from him, legs bent. Her nightgown had edged upward, leaving her bare to his touch. Then that magical hand moved lower, to her bottom, caressing there.

  Liquid heat washed over her, and passion stirred. The familiar scent she’d come to crave wrapped her in desire. As always, his touch ignited her. Did he realize how much his caresses stirred her? It wasn’t their normal night to make love and, thus far in their brief marriage, he never strayed from that routine. The discipline he lived by each day extended to their time in bed together as well.

  Did she dare roll over and touch him? Should she make him aware of the fact that she was more than willing to fully enjoy this moment? Or would that bring it to an abrupt halt?

  She debated her options, only to lose all thought as his touch became more intimate, moving along her bottom until those clever fingers drew ever closer to her center. The unusual position confused her, but his touch felt so wonderful, she couldn’t bring herself to move. An aching need rose within her when he touched the damp apex of her thighs.

  Douglas’s quickening breath aroused her further. His warm chest pressed along her back and the hardness of his manhood against her bare bottom had her shifting her hips. Her entire body yearned for him, and she reached a hand back to touch him, wanting to be closer, wanting more. Then his manhood teased her slick folds before at last he entered her with one thrust. She arched back at the glorious sensation, and he groaned in response.

  “Yes,” he muttered in the darkness.

  Her heart sang at his obvious need. She arched closer to him as she moved her body. Anything to please him as much as he pleased her.

  His hands on her hips assisted her into a steady rhythm and fanned the flames already burning brightly inside her. She shuddered when at last her passion shattered, sending her flying with Douglas directly behind her.

  For one long moment, she and Douglas were bound together. She held the thought tight as she slowly drifted back to earth, loving the feel of him cradling her. Afraid to break the fragile spell, she remained where she was, saying nothing, but keeping her hand over his where it rested on her hip, thrilled when he didn’t pull away.

  She pressed her eyes shut tight and said a little prayer, wishing he cared for her the same way she did for him. Why was it that each time she decided there was no hope her dream of what their marriage could be would come true, Douglas managed to convince her otherwise?

  ~*~

  The following morning, Douglas rode alongside Burbridge to have a closer look at his estate. Douglas welcomed the opportunity, hoping the crisp air would clear his mind. The horse’s breath created puffs of air, a testament to the cold.

  “I hope you slept well.” Burbridge glanced at him as they rode toward the far end of the property.

  An odd rush of warmth flooded Douglas as the memory of the night filled his mind. He had slept poorly until giving in to the overwhelming need for his wife. He only hoped he hadn’t started on a slippery slope of self-indulgence. After all, it had only been the one time that he’d broken his routine. Then again, he was at a house party instead of working. Perhaps he had more to be concerned about than he realized.

  “Quite well, thank you.” The sooner he focused on something else, the better. “I appreciate the opportunity to view your lands.”

  “Certainly. Few of my friends have the same level of interest in crop rotation or tenant improvements as I do. And it’s refreshing to speak with someone determined to embrace progress in agriculture.”

  “I couldn’t agree more.” Learning about advances in farming and land management was his life. He had business acquaintances that he occasionally shared such information with but wouldn’t go so far as to call any of them friends. Much of his life had been solitary.

  The only constant in his childhood had been his nanny, Mrs. Dawson. Her gentle encouragement was something he still remembered fondly. She’d been a great comfort when his mother had passed away. However, Mrs. Dawson had been sent away when he’d left to attend Eton at age six. Four years later, his father died, so Douglas had continued his studies at home with his grandfather, who discouraged social activities.

  “I don’t remember you from my school days, though you must be similar in age to me.” Burbridge frowned as if searching his memory.

  “I didn’t attend university.” Oxford had been out of the question. How could he leave when he was needed at home?

  His grandfather had spent many hours every day with Douglas, rarely satisfied with his progress. Douglas had helped with the planting and the harvest. He’d settled tenant disputes and made repairs on their homes. His grandfather insisted he know how to do everything on the estate, no matter how menial the task.

  Then there had been the reading and reciting of sermons and philosophy and farming passages. Grandfather repeatedly said a busy mind and a strict routine were the keys to success. It was as if he knew he’d failed with his son and had no intention of doing so with his grandson.

  But at some point during those years, Douglas realized his life wasn’t normal. Even for the heir to a dukedom. The solitary existence spent with weighty subjects had left no time for merriment. It was no wonder that his nickname of the Dour Duke had stuck when he’d inherited the title.

  “Oh?” Burbridge’s inquiry was politely open-ended, allowing Douglas the choice to offer more information or simply change the subject.

  “My grandfather led my education. He felt learning my responsibilities was more important than anything I would be taught elsewhere.”

  “I’d forgotten that your father died relatively young.” Burbridge studied Douglas. “With no siblings or parents and no school, that must’ve been a lonely childhood.”

  “At times.” Douglas had no idea why he was sharing all this with Burbridge when he’d never discussed it with anyone. “But my days were busy with work.”

  Burbridge nodded. “There are times when I am envious of those who farm. Is there anything more rewarding than planting, tending, then harvesting one’s own crops?”

  “Very true.” Douglas relaxed, realizing he had stiffened as he thought of the past. Those had been dark days, especially right after his father’s death, when he’d felt as if he could do nothing right to please his grandfather.

  The moment Douglas smiled for any reason, whether with pride for having accomplished a task or being amused by something around him, he’d earned a sharp reprimand. “There’s nothing to smile about here.” “You must need more to do
if you’re grinning.”

  But Douglas had much to thank his grandfather for. He knew the value of hard work. He carried a deep understanding of his tenants’ lives and their needs. He could keep accounts himself and analyze numbers with little effort. He had no need to trust anyone to do specific tasks as he could do them all.

  Burbridge pointed out the recent repairs made to buildings and homes they passed and explained the crop rotation method they were using. He seemed to be well liked based on the greetings he received from those they encountered.

  “My steward is well versed in all that needs to be done, but I enjoy keeping track of everything as well.” Burbridge’s expression softened. “Though I admit to being distracted since we found out Lillian was expecting. Having a family shifts one’s priorities.”

  But it shouldn’t. The words were on the tip of Douglas’s tongue, however he held them back. Based on how happy Burbridge looked, who was Douglas to remind him of the proper order of his duties? Family and other personal responsibilities were lower on the list, though he was beginning to wonder if his list was different than others, including Burbridge’s.

  “It’s the oddest thing,” Burbridge continued as he drew his horse to a halt and surveyed the horizon, his expression one of pride and satisfaction.

  “What is?” Douglas asked when he didn’t say anything more.

  “I realize, now that I have a child, how important it is to balance my life. Duty is all well and good, but without joy and happiness, what is the point?”

  Douglas frowned. He’d never stopped to consider such a question. His grandfather would’ve dismissed the remark as weak-minded. But Douglas understood what Burbridge meant even if he didn’t agree.

  Yet the image of Eleanor heavy with their child filled his mind. He couldn’t help but press his gloved fingers against his heart at the sudden pang there.

  ~*~

  Eleanor watched as two of the younger ladies that had arrived earlier giggled and carried on at one end of the drawing room. “Please tell me I never acted like that.”