“Coventry.” Raphe’s tone had never sounded so menacing before.
It filled Amelia with sudden concern. “Raphe,” she tried, but he ignored her. Both men did, to her utter frustration.
“You were supposed to protect her,” Raphe said in a clipped tone. “Instead, I return home to find her stabbed and compromised. Is that correct or have I been misinformed?”
“You are correct,” Thomas told him in an equally blunt tone.
“Then you will have no qualms with what I must do.”
“None at all. Indeed, I would expect nothing less.”
Amelia stared at one, then at the other. What on earth were they talking about? She knew the answer to that question two seconds later when Raphe’s fist made direct contact with Thomas’s face.
Chapter 23
Thomas felt the burning ache vibrate through him. The punch had been well deserved—expected—and yet it still hurt like blazes. Far worse than any other hit he had ever received, no doubt because this one had been delivered with passion. It was personal, carrying the weight of Huntley’s disappointment in him.
“Raphe!” In spite of her weakened voice, Amelia still managed to sound horrified. “There is no need for such brutality.”
“Let me be clear, Amelia. The only reason I am not punching you right now is because you’re a woman and also injured.” He crossed his arms and glared down at where she lay. “What the hell were you thinking?”
“I can explain,” she said on what sounded like a weary sigh.
“I should bloody well hope so,” Huntley thundered.
Disliking the tone he was using on her, Thomas placed himself between Huntley and Amelia. “She has endured enough for one day. The last thing she needs is for you to come home and berate her.”
Huntley narrowed his gaze, and for one terrifying moment it looked as though he might unleash a flood of fury, but then he swung away without warning and paced across the floor. “You and I have much to discuss, Coventry. I’ll await you in my study.”
Thomas waited until he could hear his footsteps upon the stairs before turning to face Amelia once more. “I am sorry he had to arrive and find you like this.”
“Yet another man who feels responsible for all that is wrong with the world.” She expelled a tortured breath. “Remember that, when the two of you speak. You are so very alike.”
He considered her words for a second, then bowed over her and brushed her lips with his. It was quick and gentle, yet it still managed to stir an unquenchable thirst in him—a thirst for things he now wanted with every fiber of his being. If she would only surrender to his desire and agree to accept his offer. To his way of thinking, there could be no other solution, and he was willing to bet his fortune that Huntley would agree with him once he told him all that there was to tell.
“Have a seat,” Huntley said as soon as Thomas appeared in the study. He’d met Gabriella in the hallway on his way there and had given her a quick account of Amelia’s situation. The duchess had immediately hurried off to see her.
Thomas sat in the chair that he always used in this room. It was comfortable—a little less rigid than the other available seat, no doubt on account of overusage. He considered Huntley, who now appeared slightly more subdued than earlier. The walk down the stairs and the few minutes that had passed had apparently eased his temper.
“Allow me to start at the very beginning,” Thomas said. He then proceeded to related the events that had taken place since Huntley’s departure: Amelia’s pursuit of the property, her prompt purchase of it and all the trouble that had followed.
“I knew she had plans of this nature,” Huntley said, reaching for the bottle of brandy that stood on a nearby tray. Turning over two glasses, he poured a measure into each of them and slid one across the desk to Thomas. “What I did not know was the location or the state the building was in. I imagined an investment opportunity in Mayfair. I also asked her to seek your assistance with it. You must forgive me for not informing you of this, but it wasn’t even brought to my attention until the day before my departure. Sending word must have slipped my mind.”
Thomas took a sip of the brandy, relishing the soothing effect it had on him. After being knocked unconscious and later punched, he could do with a bit of fortification. “I found out anyway though. You ought to know I tried to dissuade her.”
“How did that go?”
Thomas thought back on the many arguments he and Amelia had had during the course of the last four weeks. “Your sister can be very insistent when she sets her mind to something.”
Huntley grinned. It was the first sign of understanding he’d shown since his arrival. “I see that you have gotten to know her quite well during my absence.” The comment instantly sobered him. Leaning back in his chair, his face took on a grave expression. “Have you really compromised her, or did Lady Everly exaggerate?”
Knowing that this would be the most difficult part to explain, Thomas braced himself for Huntley’s reaction. “She and I were seen stepping out of the foliage at Vauxhall Garden by numerous witnesses.”
“That hardly answers my question.”
“I have kissed her,” Thomas confessed.
“Is that all?”
“Is that all?” Thomas gaped at his friend. “Nothing else is required, Huntley. Especially not when considering our positions. She is a lady and I am a gentleman. A kiss is enough to dictate the necessary course of things.”
“Did anyone see you kiss her?”
“No. Of course not. But assumptions will be made.” Thomas took another sip of his drink. “One cannot take a woman into a dark and secluded spot without people thinking the worst. Her reputation will be destroyed unless I marry her.”
Huntley nodded, and Thomas finally thought he’d managed to make him see reason, until he asked, “Does she wish to marry you?”
“I hardly think that is—”
“Relevant?”
Huntley gave Thomas the sort of chastising look that made him feel like the ass that he knew he was turning into. He’d allowed lust to guide him through all of this without paying attention to Amelia’s best interests. She’d tempted him, and by God he should have known better than to allow it.
As if reading his mind, Huntley said, “Ignoring her thoughts on the matter would be a mistake.”
“Then what do you propose we do?”
“I’m not really sure, but I will not force her into an undesirable marriage.” When Thomas opened his mouth to protest, Huntley held up his hand, silencing him. “My parents had one of those, and it affected not only them but their children, as well.”
“But the scandal will be enormous.” He could feel himself floundering without the support he’d expected to receive from Amelia’s brother. “Your entire family will be affected. Think of Lady Juliette!”
Tilting his head, Huntley seemed to consider that for a moment. Thomas held his breath. “We will get through it if we must,” Huntley said, smashing all hope Thomas had of a quick resolution. “What matters most to me is my family’s happiness, not accommodating other people’s notions of what must be done. And since we have recently gotten ourselves through an equally large scandal, I am confident that we can face another without too much harm being done. Lady Juliette can easily wait another year before seeking a husband in earnest. By then this whole thing will have been forgotten. Especially since the very same people who are likely to criticize us will be equally pleased to have my good favor.”
“But—”
“Unless of course there is something besides duty that prompts you to ask for Amelia’s hand.” Huntley raised a daring brow. “Is there, Coventry?”
Thomas stared back at the man who’d become a close friend in recent months. His insides rebelled at the very idea of letting Amelia go, of not holding her in his arms again and feeling her lips move softly over his. Rising, he crossed to the window and looked out into the street.
“She has captivated my interest.” He spok
e to the glass pane while envisioning her joyful smile and the temper that sometimes happened to overtake it—especially when he managed to vex her. Shaking his head, he allowed a grimace. “I can think of little else when we are apart. My every thought these past few weeks have been of her, of seeing her again, of helping her with the school, of . . . of . . .”
“Yes?”
Struck by a sudden spark of clarity, Thomas turned to face Huntley, who was looking annoyingly smug and amused. “Are you enjoying yourself at my expense?”
“Absolutely, but that does not answer my question.” Huntley’s smile broadened. He waved his hand. “Do go on. I believe you are about to have an epiphany.”
Of kissing her and touching her . . . of sating both their desires.
Thomas wisely kept those thoughts to himself. But the imaginings he’d had! They’d left him in a painful state of discomfort most nights. And yet he knew it was more than lust and his duty to protect her that kept her on his mind. It was the bond that had formed between them and the fondness it had provoked. He cared for her. Deeply. More deeply than he had ever cared for any other woman.
Marriage had always seemed so impossible to him, until she had stepped into his life and convinced him that with the right woman, it would not only be possible but also wonderful. Ever since that realization, he’d not simply wanted her as a permanent part of his life, he’d needed her, just as keenly as air was required in order to breathe. And when she’d been hurt . . . it had felt as though he’d been mortally wounded. Which could only mean one thing. Couldn’t it?
“I love her,” he said, acknowledging the truth for the very first time. The words felt good. They brought with them a new kind of reality—one in which winning her might be possible after all since he now had the chance to stop acting the fool and woo her with every bit of affection she truly deserved. “I love her so much I can scarcely believe it.”
“In that case, you have my blessing, provided that she agrees.”
Thanking him, Thomas said goodbye to Huntley with the assurance that he would return in a few days when Amelia was feeling better. He could only hope that he hadn’t ruined his chances with her for good.
Sitting in the sunroom with Gabriella and Juliette, Amelia enjoyed her cup of tea and the freedom of leaving her bedchamber behind. She’d spent three long days in that room and was seriously considering not ever going back to it. Sleeping down here on one of the sofas would be a welcome change, though she doubted Pierson would approve.
“Now that we know all about Amelia’s love interests, let us hear about yours, Juliette,” Gabriella teased. She’d been relentless with her questioning ever since learning that Amelia had been pursued by no fewer than three gentlemen, two of whom had proposed. And since flowers had been pouring into the house over the last couple of days, it had been a difficult subject to ignore.
“I cannot relay anything nearly as interesting as Amelia,” Juliette said.
“But there is someone?” Gabriella prodded.
Juliette shrugged. “Not exactly. Lord Yates has shown some interest, I think, though I am reluctant to consider making a match with him.”
“He is both titled and amicable,” Amelia said.
“Qualities that I appreciate, but hardly enough to stir my heart.”
Gabriella smiled. “I see we have another romantic in our midst.”
“Is it wrong to want love?” Juliette asked with a pitch to her tone that made her sound rather defensive.
“Not at all,” Gabriella told her. “Have you perhaps met a man who might encourage such deep affection?”
Juliette paused and then shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
Amelia wondered if that was entirely true, considering the blush that appeared on her cheeks. Choosing to give her privacy, she decided not to pursue the subject further, which was made easier by Pierson’s arrival. “The Duke of Coventry to see Lady Amelia.”
“Finally,” Gabriella murmured before saying, “Do show him in.”
Amelia looked to Gabriella. “Finally?”
Gabriella smiled. “The man is obviously struck by Cupid. I’m surprised he managed to stay away this long.”
Amelia frowned. She would not argue the point no matter how false she knew it to be. The only thing Coventry was doing was giving her what he thought might convince her—an overwhelming and very expensive display of roses. While she appreciated the effort, she wished he would have avoided it since it only made denying him all the more difficult.
But then he arrived, and she realized it would be hard enough to continue doing so even without the flowers. The man was simply stunning, clad in a beige jacket with a taupe velvet collar and breeches to match, his brown boots complemented the earthy tones of his ensemble. Hair slightly tussled, he approached with an armful of pretty peonies.
Bowing, he addressed Gabriella first. “Your Grace, I thank you for inviting me into your home. These are for you.”
He held the flowers toward Gabriella, who stood so she could accept them properly. “What a beautiful bribe, Your Grace.” She looked over at Juliette. “Come along. I believe the duke would like a word in private with your sister.”
Amelia gave Gabriella a disapproving look, but it was to no avail. She and Juliette hastened from the room and even managed to close the door completely behind them. Well! Amelia glanced at Coventry and saw that he now appeared somewhat uncertain—almost shy—which she found not only peculiar but also a little unnerving. The man had always been the very picture of aristocratic confidence.
“I am pleased to see you looking so well,” he said. A hesitant smile formed upon his lips.
Amelia studied it, unsure of what it might mean. “Yes,” she said. “The wound is healing quite nicely. I am able to move about now without any pain or discomfort.”
He nodded. “That is excellent news.”
Glancing at the sofa where she sat, he seemed to consider the spot beside her, which prompted her to rise. Having him that near would not do at all, not when she felt her resolve wavering even as they spoke. She’d spent three long days and nights reminding herself why marrying him would not work. But he will be yours and you will be his. That little voice rose to the front of her mind again. There had to be more than that, though. She would suffer for it if there wasn’t; she knew she would.
“And how have you been?” she asked, walking away from the seating arrangement, adding distance. Perhaps he could distract her with an outline of his daily routine.
“Not good,” he said. “Terrible, actually.”
Surprised, she stopped to look at him, not only at his physical presence, but at the details of his face. His eyes were muted, the usual spark there reduced to a simmer. His skin had turned the palest shade she’d ever seen on him. It made him look sickly, which prompted her to move toward him.
“Are you ill?” A thought struck her. “Is Jeremy all right? I hope nothing has—”
“He is fine.”
“And your mother?”
“She is also well.” He stepped closer to her, reminding her of his much larger size and of the pull that invariably brought them together. She’d made a tactical error when she’d approached him, for there was no longer time for her to flee. He caught her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing her knuckles before turning the palm against his cheek. “I am the only one afflicted.”
Her heart shook with the tremor his words evoked. “Afflicted?” He nodded, his eyes meeting hers. “By what?”
“Love.” Turning his head, he placed a kiss against her wrist. The effect was as dizzying as his words.
“Love?” She could not credit it, nor could she avoid the buzz of joy that spiraled through her as his meaning took hold of her senses.
“I love you, Amelia.” Tentatively, he glanced at her. “I cannot imagine my life without you in it.”
She could feel tears pressing against her eyes. Her throat tightened around the words she wished to speak. All she could do was nod wh
ile her lips trembled against the sob she was trying to swallow.
His thumb brushed her cheek. “I hope these are tears of joy and not sorrow.”
She nodded again. “Joy,” she managed to say. One word that brought her into his arms.
Winding one arm around her waist, he held her to him. His fingers nudged at her chin, tilting it upward until their eyes met. His were warm shades of chocolate swirling with tender amazement. It was a look she would not soon forget—a look that expanded her chest and made her feel cherished.
“I love you too. Did I tell you that?”
He shook his head. “Not until now. In fact, considering your resistance to marriage, I feared you might not feel the same way at all.”
A tremulous laugh pushed its way past her lips. “How very wrong you are, Thomas, for I have loved you since the very first time we danced. And as much as I wanted to stop loving you at times, my heart refused to allow it.”
Smiling, he dipped his head toward hers. “I am glad, so very glad indeed.” His mouth met hers, tentatively at first and then with greater assurance. She felt his hand move to the back of her head, holding her steady. A hot burst of tremors swept through her body, beckoning her to surrender, and surrender she did. Her arms went around his neck as she arched against his solid form, pressing to him for greater purchase. He responded with a hungry groan that had her lips parting and granting him entry.
What followed was hot and decadent; a meeting of unrestrained feverish passion. It set Amelia’s world on fire, burning along every limb and turning her body to liquid. She wanted his hands to move and to touch, yet they remained infuriatingly still.
“Thomas,” she murmured when she managed a breath.
He responded by capturing her lip between his teeth and giving that plump piece of flesh a careful nibble. “I want more, as well,” he told her, reading her mind. He placed a kiss upon her cheek, then kissed his way along her jaw until he could whisper in her ear, “But we are in your brother’s house with the door to this room wide open.” His hand stroked upward in a teasing caress. “I will not go any further than this at the moment,” he added, “but once we are married and alone in our bedchamber, you may be certain that I will have you in every wicked way I can possibly imagine.”
The Duke of Her Desire: Diamonds in the Rough Page 26