An Undesirable Duke

by Dayna Quince

  Weirick let go of her. “You don’t believe me?”

  “Of course I don’t believe you.”

  Weirick searched his mind frantically, and then he knew what he had to do. “Fine, come with me and I’ll prove it.” He took her hand and dragged her through the secret passage. In his study, he found his brother, Bernie, and Chester all sitting around the fire enjoying his whiskey.

  “What’s this?” Roderick stood.

  “I could say the same.” Weirick sneered. “I’m taking Violet to Sonam. I’ve got something to prove to her.”

  “Bernie, please make excuses to my mother,” Violet called as Weirick tugged her along.

  Slipping out to the stable, Weirick saddled Hugo while Violet silently waited, arms folded and teeth clenched.

  “Where’s my horse?’ Violet asked.

  “It will be faster if we ride together. I don’t want you running away.”

  Violet glared at him. “The only one who’s been running is you.”

  “Touché.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “To see Sonam. If anyone can convince you I’ve changed, it’s him.”

  * * *

  Weirick got himself and Violet on Hugo and raced them across the grassy hills to Sonam’s cottage. Once there, he dismounted and helped Violet down before tying Hugo to the post. Knocking on Sonam’s door, he waited.

  “Is this the man you fought the first night of the party?”

  “It is indeed.” Weirick knocked again. “Sonam! I’ve brought Violet to meet you.”

  “I don’t think he’s home.”

  Weirick cursed and walked around the cottage. “Sonam!” He called out.

  Violet waited by the door, losing sight of Weirick as he went around the cottage.

  The door opened and Violet turned to see a pair of squinted, sleepy eyes watching her.

  “Are you Sonam?”

  “Are you Violet?”

  Violet nodded.

  The door opened and the large man grinned at her. “Welcome, Violet. I am honored to meet you.”

  “Uh…” Violet was afraid to move. She’d seen this man toss Weirick around like a stuffed doll.

  “Please, come in, come in, I have a new tea I’d like to share with you.”

  Violet hesitated. “Weirick is just around the back, if we just wait a moment.” Sonam snatched her hand, faster than she’d ever seen a person move, and tugged her inside, slamming the door.

  “Let’s see how he does by himself.” He let go of Violet and gestured to the chair at his small table. “Please sit. The tea is almost ready.”

  Violet had no choice but to sit. “It smells lovely.”

  “Yes.” Sonam nodded. “I have enjoyed wandering about your English countryside and learning about your herbs. This land is lush.”

  “Indeed.” Violet swallowed. “The rain certainly helps.”

  Sonam grinned and nodded. He bent over his hearth and took the kettle off the hook, setting it aside and washing two cups. He set one before Violet and presumably for Weirick.

  “And now we wait.” He sat on his bed and smiled mischievously.

  “Wait for what?” Violet asked.

  In answer, Weirick burst through the door. “What the devil, Sonam?”

  “Welcome, Weirick. I am happy to see you found the answer you were searching for.”

  Weirick panted as he looked around the cottage, and then realized there was nothing to fight. He took the chair across from Violet. “New tea?”

  Sonam nodded.

  This is all very unusual, Violet thought. “How is it you two came to know each other?”

  “That’s a terribly long story,” Weirick said. “We haven’t the time for it now. Sonam, tell her I love her.”

  Sonam’s smile faded. “I cannot do that.”

  “You’ve known all along what I’ve been going through, coming here, trying to understand why I’ve been rapidly descending into madness, and it’s because of her. Because I’m in love with her and I was too stupid to see it.” Weirick’s gaze bounced from Violet to Sonam.

  “You blame me for your chaotic behavior.”

  “Absolutely,” Weirick said.

  Violet folded her arms, put her nose in the air, and refused to acknowledge Weirick.

  Weirick turned to Sonam. “She shot at me this morning, did she tell you that? But before she shot at me”— he glared at Violet— “I had the epiphany you told me I needed to have. I realized what my one choice was.”

  “That is good.” Sonam nodded.

  “But she doesn’t believe me. I told her I’d marry her, and that I love her, and she doesn’t believe me.” Weirick shrugged helplessly.

  “I see the problem.” Sonam scratched the stubble on his chin. “You’re an idiot, Weirick.”

  Violet snorted and hid her smile behind her hand.

  Weirick didn’t bother feeling insulted. It was true. “I brought her here because you both know how determined I was to leave England.” Weirick pinned Violet with his gaze. “You believe that, don’t you?”

  Violet nodded, her amusement fading. “Yes.”

  Weirick turned back to Sonam. “Sonam, you are like my brother in so many ways. We’ve fought our way across continents together.” Weirick swallowed, guilt swirling inside him. “But I won’t be leaving with you. I’m staying here. I’m going to remain the Duke of Selbourne, and I’m going to marry Violet Everly, like I should have done years ago.”

  The words were not addressed to Violet, but the weight of them washed over her all the same. Now she believed him because the hurt was evident right there on his face. He was abandoning their plan for her. She folded her shaking hands in her lap and willed herself not to cry.

  “I’m sorry, Sonam,” Weirick said, his voice heavy with regret.

  Sonam grinned. “Don’t be sorry, my friend. I knew when we came here that you would not be leaving with me. You fight the things that you care about the most because you are afraid. But now you’ve found your strength. The strength is letting go of what you fear and embracing it. Violet stood for all those things, your home, your lost years, your lost faith. And now it will all be restored. It has been an honor to take this journey with you.”

  This time Violet did cry. Sonam was so right, and he said it so beautifully. She used her sleeves to wipe her tears, watching Weirick and Sonam. Both men stood and embraced each other.

  “You must stay for the wedding, Sonam.”

  “I would be honored,” Sonam said.

  Violet stood, feeling a bit out of place even though it appeared they discussed her often. But then Sonam turned to her and opened his arms. Violet couldn’t refuse him, not after all he’d done for Weirick. His large arms surrounded her, and then he released her into Weirick’s hold. They sat and had tea, a lovely blend of bitter and sweet that Violet found remarkable. Then they bid Sonam goodbye.

  “Where will he go now?” Violet asked as they rode on Hugo’s back with Violet nestled into Weirick’s front.

  “Who knows, he’ll find another stray like me and help him exercise his demons.”

  Violet thought about that. What an interesting life Sonam must lead. She looked around them, not recognizing the scenery. “Where are we going?”

  “You and I still have some talking to do,” Weirick said as he turned Hugo off the main road and took them inland where the vegetation turned to forest. Violet recognized it as the same place they talked before. Reining in Hugo, Weirick dismounted and helped Violet down, but when her feet touched the ground, he didn’t let go of her waist.

  Violet wasn’t going to push him away this time. She was ready to hear the words she’d longed to hear for five years. She licked her lips, looking up into his eyes and hoping what she saw there was the love she knew shined in hers.

  “Violet…” He took a deep breath. “I’ve been horrible, and I’ve been a coward.” He rubbed the back of his head. “I can only say that I was afraid, and I didn’t know I was running from the
very thing I needed.”

  Violet pressed closer in encouragement, a smile coming to her lips.

  “I love you, Violet.”

  “You do?”

  He chuckled, and she could feel it vibrate through her whole body.

  “Do you love me? Or have I scared you away?”

  “Never.” She grinned, tears pricking her eyes. “I love you, and there isn’t anything you can do to make me stop.”

  He took a deep breath, his eyes growing bright. “You believe me?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you’ll marry me?” He grinned.

  “Yes, I’ll marry you, Weirick.”

  He swooped down to kiss her and Violet lifted her lips to him. Her heart soared, and her feet lifted off the ground as he picked her up and carried her under the shelter of the trees. It had begun to rain again, quiet and steady, but Violet and Weirick paid no attention, because there was enough warmth between the two of them, even when they began to remove each other’s clothing.

  * * *

  Weirick stopped her from removing her dress completely. Her bodice hung around her waist, but her shift still covered her breasts. He cupped them, loving her breasts with his hands, a wave of acute bliss washing over him. She was his, she would always be his, and no man would dare touch her, no other hands but his would worship this skin. He dropped to his knees before her and pressed his face to her stomach. He swallowed, his throat tight with emotion. She sank to her knees and kissed him, holding his face tenderly. He’d forgotten his hat, he realized, as her hands moved to the back of his head, gentle fingers tracing the edges of his scars.

  He’d forgotten they were there, astonishingly. He hadn’t thought of them since…since last evening. He kissed her harder, straining in his breeches as he lowered them down, pulling her on top of him.

  “Sit astride me.” He helped lift her skirts as she adjusted herself over him, looking adorably unsure.

  “I’m not sure I can do it this way.”

  “I’ll show you.” He bit back a grin as he gripped her hips tightly and thrust into her warm cove to tease them both. He unbuttoned his breeches, his erection springing free.

  “This feels awkward,” she said and bit her lip.

  Weirick smiled and dipped his fingers inside her. Her eyes slid closed and she sighed. “How does it feel now?”

  “Better.” She gasped.

  He stroked her until she was slick and ready for him. He positioned her over him, meeting her eyes. “Are you ready?”

  She nodded and looked down at him, her eyes glazed with passion, her lips bruised and swollen from his kisses. He committed the sight to memory and swore to make more memories like this. He would revel in this love, and never again take it for granted. They had five years to make up for, five years of pain to replace with love and joy and life.

  * * *

  Violet leaned on his shoulders as she took him into her body, sliding down until they connected fully. She swallowed, adjusting to the feel of him. She was still a bit sore, but not terribly uncomfortable. He changed his grip on her hips and urged her forward. The slight tilt changed everything, and the friction did magnificent things to her body.

  “Oh.” She sighed.

  He smiled crookedly. “Now you can control all the movement. You can sit up straighter or lay on me. You’re in charge, Violet.”

  “I like the sound of that.” She leaned down and kissed him, and as she did, he thrust into her. “Oh yes.” She sighed into his lips and moved against him. The pleasure was intense and exquisite, but gentle on her tender flesh. She shivered as she moved with him, his arms coming around her back to hold her tightly. She turned her head to the side and closed her eyes. His breath rushed against her ear as he thrust harder, and Violet stayed with him, the world around them fracturing as a sweet, all-consuming climax took her. She cried out, tears pricking her eyes.

  “Yes, Violet.” He groaned, his voice deep and savage as he tensed under her, thrusting hard and deep inside her.

  He slowed, still holding her tightly, keeping her close as their hearts pounded against each other. Violet could feel his pulse between her legs, inside her where he had spilled his seed. Joy and warmth swept through her. Now their life would begin.

  Epilogue

  A week later.

  This is a rather slapdash affair, isn’t it?” Primrose Everly whispered into her older sister’s ear.

  “Hush,” Heather scolded. “Not everyone wants a long engagement like you, Prim. Look at them, I predict she’ll be with child by next month.” Heather smiled at Violet’s obvious joy as she stared into her husband’s eyes while he twirled her around the dance floor. Heather knew almost nothing about him, but he clearly adored Violet, and that was all Heather needed to know to accept him. Their mother had given her full approval, orchestrating this small wedding in a matter of days.

  “They’re dancing, I don’t see what you see,” Prim bemoaned, “and besides, it was Peverel that wanted the long engagement. He thinks rushed engagements are scandalous.”

  Heather bit her tongue regarding that bit of information. “Come, Fallon has a brand-new foal and I know you will want to see it before you go. The newlyweds will wish to retire soon anyway.”

  Prim made a face.

  Heather laughed. “One day you will understand, little sister.”

  * * *

  “No, I won’t,” Prim muttered. She wished Violet all the happiness in the world, but what Prim didn’t understand, was how Violet came to be so in love in the first place. Three weeks ago, she’d left for a house party in which Lord Roderick Andrews was the man Violet was supposed to marry—or so Prim and her mother had hoped. But she’d married Lord Andrews’ older brother instead? Prim shook her head as she followed her sister to the stables.

  Prim had recognized him. He was the man from the park, that much she understood, but what she didn’t understand, was why Violet was so in love with him, and why she took the chances she did. Violet had been quite open with them when Prim arrived, which was a pleasant surprise. For years, she’d been rather close-lipped. Prim shook her head. Now Violet was bursting with happiness, and everything she said involved Weirick.

  Perhaps that’s why she found Peverel so interesting. Emotions never got the best of him. He was cool, collected, and so very smart. But he also said the sweetest things, and he cared for her in a way that was not—well, it was nothing like Violet and Weirick. Violet looked like she wanted to undress her husband and drag him to the bedchamber.

  Prim would never look at Peverel in such a way. It was undignified, to say the least. Prim supposed that people simply loved differently. Prim’s love for Peverel was cool and peaceful, whereas Violet and Weirick were hot and explosive.

  They were different, that was all.

  Prim felt better now that she’d rationalized it to herself in her mind. She looked up to see that Heather had gotten far ahead of her and had disappeared inside the stable. Lifting her skirts discreetly, Prim trotted into the stable, eager to see the new foal. What she found there was not a foal.

  It was a man.

  A shirtless man, dripping wet.

  And just like that, everything that Prim thought she enjoyed about being cool and reserved disappeared in wafts of steam.

  He was looking at her, running his fingers through damp hair. Beads of water slowly slithered down his chest, some catching in wisps of chest hair, and others simply taking their time because his chest looked like a divine place to linger.

  Primrose licked her lips, her mouth suddenly as dry as the Sahara.

  He smiled at her, and wiped his face with a towel, moving slowly as he pulled on his shirt.

  “Miss Primrose, I presume?”

  “Um…. Uh, yes, and you are?” Prim fisted her hands on her hips and reminded herself that she was not intrigued by manly nakedness, even if her own body presently hummed like a tuning fork.

  He walked forward, his stride loose and long, and extended his hand.
<
br />   “Lachlan Dennehy, but me friends call me Lachy.”

  “As in lucky?” Prim ignored his extended hand. She was engaged, and she was certain that touching this man would somehow change that fact.

  “Aye, that I am.” He winked at her.

  Prim squeezed her thighs together; for some reason, her body was tingling in odd places. “I’m looking for my sister, there is a new foal, yes?” Prim ripped her eyes from him and looked around the stable that was obviously empty, except for the horses and the two of them.

  “Out in the paddock, Miss Prim.”

  “Thank you.” Prim turned away and walked as carefully and as quickly as she could to reach the outside paddock. There she found Heather, stroking the nose of an adorable colt. Prim hurried to the fence, startling the colt.

  “Goodness, Primrose. Where did you wander off to—and why are you so flushed?” Heather brushed a stray curl from Prim’s cheek.

  “There is an odd man in the stable. Do you know who Lachlan Dennehy is?”

  “Of course, he lives here.”

  “What?”

  “He’s been in the East India army for some time, but now he’s back. He’s part of the original clan this castle belongs to.”

  “Oh,” Prim said. That settled it. She could never come back here. A man was not supposed to make her feel like this, certainly not a man who was not her intended husband. She needed to get back to London and back to Peverel as soon as possible.

  But one thing had changed about her. She understood Violet, and she understood why Violet was lucky—for lack of a better word—to feel such things for her husband.

  “Let’s go back,” Prim said abruptly. “I want to see Violet some more before I have to go back to London.”

  “Are you in that much of a rush to see Peverel?”

  “Yes,” Prim lied. She looked down in shame.

  Heather linked their arms, and they returned to the drawing room in time to hear another toast for the blissfully happy couple. Prim watched Violet and the duke very carefully now, noting how his eyes rarely left her face, or how he would lean closer to hear her when she spoke. And Violet hung on his every word, adoring him with her eyes. It left Prim feeling cold because suddenly, her view of her and Peverel’s relationship had changed.