“Oh, dear. What will I do now?” He shouldn't have drank as much as he had already. The stuff was going straight to his head. Despite Leah's obvious worry and her babbling apology, he was tempted to laugh. One broken decanter was hardly the worst of his problems.
“I will take my leave. I have outstayed my welcome. Please do not be angry.” She gazed up at him from beneath her brows. “I promise I will correct this.”
“Leah.” Her name rolled over his tongue soft and sweet. Far tastier than the brandy.
“Your Grace?”
“I do not need you to replace any of it.”
“It's only fair,” she murmured.
“Consider it part of my redecorating. Although you can make it up to me.” He tucked his hand beneath her chin.
Big brown eyes searched his face. “How?”
“Another kiss. I should not have enjoyed the previous one half as much as I did, but it left me longing for another. If you're agreeable.”
She trembled. “You have been drinking.”
“We already established that.” She didn't want him, not the way he wanted her. The need to hold her pulsed through him with unchecked heat. Imagine, the son of a vicious duke seducing the vicar's daughter. “I'm sorry. You should not have come here.”
She pressed her hands to either side of his face and pulled his head down. When her lips touched his, he wrapped his arms around her waist. Passion flooded from her kiss and the knowledge that Leah desired him helped clear his head.
He drew back. “I want you. In my bed. Beneath me.”
Leah's face colored. Her hands curled into his waist coat. “I want you too. More than is proper to admit.”
Daniel swept her into his arms. Her quick breath brushed his cheek. With Leah cradled in his arms, he felt the tension coiling through her.
“We do not have to—”
“No, I want to.” She caressed his face. “As many times as I told myself I would not fall into your eyes, it happened. Do not send me away. Not unless you want me to die keening on the beach.” She struggled to remain solemn, but a smile blossomed on her pink lips.
“So dramatic, little shepherdess.” He shifted her slight weight to throw open the study door. The hall remained quiet as he carried her to his bedchamber. The benefit of being a writer who required silence to complete his work.
Leah relaxed against his chest when he carried her into his room. After he set her on her feet, she untied her knitted shawl. The plain sage-colored dress covering her didn't hide the curve of her breasts.
He ached to see them bared and rosy. “Would you like help undressing?”
She nodded. “If you do not mind.”
He'd stumbled through his share of undressing women in evening dress. One simple shepherdess costume would be no chore. Leah turned her back to him, granting access to the placket hiding her ties.
The rough wool scraped against his fingers. Poor Leah, fallen from an honorable position as a vicar's daughter to sheep caregiver to...his lover. He would treat her as a woman of highest regard. In his bed, he would make her a queen.
Her dress tumbled to a heap at her feet. In the dim candlelight of his bedroom, her short chemise was near invisible—a mere opaque shape around her slender figure. It barely brushed the middle of her round, dimpled buttocks.
Leah faced him again. She wore no stays and beneath the chemise, the taut tips of her breasts pushed at the material. Stockings conformed to her shapely legs, held up by, of all things, silk garters. His little shepherdess was full of surprises.
“Delectable.” He could barely think as he drank her in.
“Thank you, Your Grace.”
“Ah, sweetling, I think it's well past time we moved beyond titles.” He slipped his hands beneath her chemise, then lifted it over her head. With a few quick tugs, he pulled the pins free of her hair. Long, silky tresses fell around her shoulders. She raised her arms in attempt to cover her breasts.
“No, no. Let me see.”
Leah dropped her hands once again. She tucked them behind her back which caused her chest to stick out.
It took every ounce of strength to keep his hands off her while he undressed. His shaft rose to attention as her gaze wandered over him. Half drenched in shadows, she remained his mysterious Leah. She bent to unfasten her garters, but he stopped her.
“Leave them. They add a certain...allure.”
Naked, hard, and nearly mad for her to touch him, he gave her a gentle nudge toward the bed. Every step caused her hips to sway. When she half turned to see if he'd followed, her breasts bounced.
I am going to bury myself so deeply inside you, precious Leah. But only after I pleasure you with my tongue.
She climbed onto his bed, a vision of soft curls and glowing skin. Her teeth pulled at her lower lip.
“Are you cold, sweetling?”
“A little,” she whispered.
“You won't be soon.” He claimed the foot of the bed, then parted her legs. As he moved between her thighs, she leaned back against the pillows. Daniel pressed kisses against the inside of her legs.
She gasped and clutched the coverlet in her hands.
He didn't need to ask to know no other man had ever touched her so intimately. He would be the first, and perhaps if he could woo her away from Lady Eleanor's employ, the last. Once he taught her his pleasures, Leah would make a fine mistress.
The moan that left her throat when he pressed his lips to her core made his rod jerk. Pushing into her, claiming what he wanted, would have been easy. But he wanted her to return to him often, to beg to share his bed. He teased her opening with little thrusts of his forefinger while rolling his tongue over her arousal. Her hips bucked and he pressed her back to the bed with his free hand.
“Daniel.” His name came out muffled from between her fingers.
He pushed deeper into her, pleased when her tight channel clamped around his probing digit. His name had never sounded sweeter coming from anyone's lips. And he didn't care if the rest of the world was barred from saying it, so long as Leah repeated it again and again solely for him.
On the climax that wracked her body, he rose over her to position himself at her center. With a swift plunge, he tore through her maidenhead.
She cried out, then gasped, her brown eyes widening. Her gaze struck his.
“It's all right, sweetling. It only hurts temporarily. You will be back to pleasure any moment.” Her discomfort forced him to regain his sensibilities, to slow down. Daniel kissed the hollow of her throat, kneaded her breasts, and slowly moved inside her.
She melted into his coverlet, more relaxed with each stroke. Her fingers danced across his body like kisses. For now, she was in his grip. Right where he wanted her. All the past mistakes, the horrors his father presented, the strangeness surrounding the questions he had for her vanished while he immersed himself inside Leah's body. Watching the ecstasy on her face stole away all his doubts about the future.
A DUKE WORTH HIS SALT
CHAPTER NINE
What did a man offer a woman he wished to make his mistress? Flowers, silk, trinkets of some sort?
Daniel propped his feet on his desk. Out the window, the sea rolled in choppy waves that crashed to the shore beneath a steely sky. Both churned, much like his emotions. Thinking of Leah wrapped in his arms last night made him hunger for more. He had to have her. Simple as that. But what would she make of such a proposition?
She was practical, his Leah. And ruined for any man who came around sniffing for a pure young bride. He'd seen to that, and now he needed to make it right. He couldn't offer marriage due to his worry, but he could give her stability.
Through the window on the other side of his study, bare trees and brown grass gave away to Lanthrop Downs somewhere in the distance. Where Leah was no doubt tending sheep with Jem. He wanted to go to her, pull her away from that life this instant. The question was, did she want him to?
Playing the subtle gentleman wouldn't earn him anything
but frustration. He might as well come out with it and tell her. This evening. After she returned from her daily tasks. If he sent a note now, he could have his cook prepare supper for them. An elegant meal might soften her toward his proposal. Being timid would get him nowhere.
As usual, a pile of papers scribbled with the latest ideas for his novel lay scattered on the desk. He tore a piece in half and jotted down his invitation to her. Then he rang the bell for Yanell.
As soon as the steward entered, he passed off the note. “Get it to Lanthrop House right away. Send the cook to me. Tonight I want something special.”
If he was very lucky, this night might end as well as last night had. He hadn't slept so deeply in countless days.
Yanell took the note with a stiff nod. “Yes, Your Grace.”
Daniel lifted the torn sheet of paper. It had some words about his hero's latest adventures. He crumbled it in his palm. No, he was wasting time on this book. What he needed to write was a story about a mysterious dark-haired woman who intrigued a lonely prince. Something like...a fairy tale.
* * * *
Eleanor was in a world of trouble if she lost her heart to the Duke of Greenebuck the way she'd lost her virginity. She'd never given in to whims as her younger sister did, but the sultry look in Daniel's eyes left her weak-kneed and barely in control. The way he'd made her feel...well, she hardly needed her heavy cloak in spite of the temperatures. A warm flush washed through her each time she thought of him touching her.
She wasn't too naïve to know upper crust men used working women, then threw them away. Somehow Daniel didn't seem like a man who easily cast away lovers. Still, she expected nothing from him, not even another visit. If he wanted to end things between them, it was acceptable. How she'd return home and present herself as the same virginal girl, that was another matter.
Could she ever expect to feel the same way with some other man as she did with him?
If she'd ever needed Emma's advice, now was the time. A pang hit her heart. She'd heard nothing from Emma or Effie since her arrival here. Did they miss her? Papa was clearly no better or she'd have heard something. Maybe she was doomed to remain at Lanthrop Downs forever. The quiet beauty captivated her, but without knowledge of her family, she felt lonely.
“That is the bleakest expression I have ever seen anyone wear.” Jem thrust the end of his staff at the frozen ground. “Dad had me turn out the ram this morning. We'll have a lot of little lambs come April.”
“Good. I look forward to seeing them.” She probably had years of watching the lambs come into the world. “I miss my family, Jem. There has been no word from them.”
He scratched beneath his cap. “You got a letter yesterday. Ann brought it from town.”
“Why didn't anyone tell me?” She straightened. “I have been wasting away waiting for news.”
His cheeky smirk returned. “Nah, you've cast your eye toward the duke. It's kept you preoccupied. And don't start with the why, Jem, you rascal, I could box your ears. You'll need me come lambing season when we're out at all hours of the night.”
“You are a pain, nevertheless.” She folded her arms. “Leave Goodwin out of it.”
“You mean Daniel?” He crooned the name, then danced out of the way as she reached out to swat him. “Are you going to marry him, Leah?”
“For your information, His Grace doesn't want to marry. He certainly couldn't lower himself to wed a shepherdess, now could he?”
“But you're not really—”
“The discussion is closed, boy. While I'm here, I am Leah the Shepherdess and nothing more. Perhaps I will get to return to London one day, but until then...” She turned her palms up. “This is what I am.”
“Are you ever going to tell him? The duke won't let anyone know Lady Eleanor is here. Don't you think it's fair to give him the truth?”
He'd divulged his history, true enough, but she'd passed herself off this long. What was the harm in letting him believe she was a simple working class woman?
“No. He does not need to know. We all get along just fine under this ruse.” It wouldn't make a bit of difference if she presented herself as Lady Eleanor or Leah. He'd wanted a bed partner last night and he'd gotten one. If she'd been her real self, he might have showed some restraint. She was glad he hadn't.
“I do not wish to discuss it any further.” End of conversation. What was the use of burdening Goodwin with her private matters? “Anyway, why did no one mention the letter from home?”
“I suppose Mum must've forgotten with the fuss of supper. You'll have to ask her. Do you suppose it could be good news? Maybe the earl's remembered you.”
She frowned. “You aren't supposed to know about that.”
“I hear things.” He leaned on his staff. “I know you hope he has so you can get back to your fancy life, but I'll miss you should you leave. It's lonely out here with no one to talk to.”
His words helped erase some of her annoyance with him. “That is kind of you.”
“I could train you into one of the most knowledgeable sheep ladies in Britain if you stayed.”
As though that offer out-shined any other she'd get in London. Eleanor couldn't help laughing. “That's supposed to convince me to stay?”
“I thought you liked the sheep. And me and Griff.” He looked wounded.
“The sheep smell. As for you two, well, there are worse types out there.”
A figure bolted out of the trees.
Griff, startled by the motion, launched into loud barking.
Jem's sister Ann, pale and disheveled, raced toward them. “Lady Eleanor! You must come to the manor right away.”
“What is it?” Fear made her heart race. “Has there been an accident?”
Ann shook her head. “Lady Madeline is here and she's furious.”
“Oh, no.” Eleanor pressed her hand over her mouth. There was no way to escape. Madeline had come for her at last.
“I thought you missed your family. Why is your aunt coming here a bad thing?” Jem cocked his head. “You just said—”
“Hush, boy. Lady Madeline did not want me to come at all.” She took a deep breath. “You will be all right watching the sheep out here alone, won't you?”
“I've done it plenty of times before. You know that.” Jem's mouth flattened. “But will you be all right facing her?”
“I will be fine.” If the heavens had any mercy. “Come, Ann. Let's go home.”
She wanted to run the other direction, toward Glassodder Head where she might find refuge from Aunt Madeline's temper, but it wasn't a permanent solution. Her aunt would be stunned to see Eleanor wearing such plain clothes. And her hair. She grimaced as she touched the scarf wrapped around her head. Her roots were beginning to show and the darkness had faded a bit, but most of the red was still hidden under the dye. Worst of all, the scent of lanolin from the wool hung around her.
She had a lot of explaining to do.
The walk back to the manor had never seemed so long, even though it only took a few minutes. A mud-splattered carriage sat in the drive. Against the cloudy grey background, Lanthrop House had never looked so desolate. Aunt Madeline must think her mad for coming here.
She slipped into the house and met Lizzie, who looked as flustered as Ann.
“Lady Madeline is in the parlor. She's quite angry, Leah.” Lizzie wrang her hands together. “Is there anything we can do?”
Touched by the younger girl's concern, Eleanor gave her a tight smile. “I am sure I can calm her down. The most she will do is shout. I'm sure we will have everything settled in a short amount of time.” Really, she was uncertain of anything, but it wouldn't do to let Lizzie know. “Jem mentioned I received a letter yesterday. Is there a chance I could see it before I greet my aunt?”
“Of course, my lady.” Lizzie hurried away. She returned a moment later with an envelope bearing Lord Aldshire's wax crest.
Eleanor broke the seal and unfolded the letter.
Eleanor,
I pray this letter reaches you in time to give you fair warning. Aunt Madeline is leaving London to find you. She suspects you ran away to Lanthrop Downs and intends to begin her search there. I hope you are well and I am sorry we have not written more often. With Papa's illness and the Season, there is little time for such things. Sneaking around behind Aunt Madeline's back is nigh impossible. Papa is no better and with each day, we worry he will never be himself again. I am sorry. Again, I hope you are prepared by the time Aunt Madeline comes. Rest assured, neither Effie or myself gave you away. We love and miss you.
Your sister,
Emma
Eleanor sniffed as tears built in her eyes. She missed her sisters, but there were other matters to deal with now. Aunt Madeline had to be assured that everything was on the up and up here. No matter what, Eleanor didn't intend to return to London, not with Papa still addled. Even watching sheep rut all day outranked the cruel words he'd said.
She braced herself for Madeline's steely manner as she entered the parlor.
A full tea service sat on the table before her aunt, but it appeared untouched. Madeline stood rigidly near one of the sagging settees. Her eyes narrowed when her gaze landed on Eleanor. The tightness of her mouth increased as she looked over her niece.
“What do you have to say for yourself, Eleanor?”
No pleasantries, no thank heavens you're safe, no shred of relief in her aunt's expression.
“I told you I wished to leave London. It is better for me here.” She gestured to her clothes. “I am useful and I'm out of Papa's way. I received word from Emma that he still is not doing well. It would only upset him more if he saw me every day, don't you think?”
Aunt Madeline wrinkled her nose. “What is that wretched smell? Is it coming from you?”
“Sheep, unfortunately. That is what I have been doing. Tending them with the help of one of the boys here. They are going to help us restore Lanthrop Downs, Aunt Madeline. We can use the money they bring to put a little shine back on the place.” She smiled. “I do not always enjoy it, but it does give me plenty of time to think.”
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