Celeste Bradley - [Heiress Brides 02]

by The Duke Next Door

  If he could only bring himself to tell her …

  Deirdre lay in the warm circle of her husband’s strength, feeling like a wife for the very first time. That had been …

  There were no words. Wonderful? Exhilarating?

  Happening again soon?

  She would ask Calder. No, she couldn’t face him. Not after those sounds she dimly remembered making. Not after she’d clawed at him so, panting and sweating and matching his thrusts—

  Her tender flesh shivered at her thoughts, knotting and throbbing anew. She wasn’t going to get more of the aforementioned if she didn’t brave this first conversation. She licked her sore lips, took a deep breath and pushed herself up to rest on her elbows, looking down at him. She felt daring and naughty with her naked backside exposed, although she did bunch some of the silk over her breasts. Her beautiful, gloriously naked Lord Brookhaven lay with one arm flung over his eyes.

  He wasn’t asleep. She knew that because he jumped when she leaned down and bit his chest.

  “Ouch!”

  She batted her eyelashes at his offended glare. “I believe compliments are in order,” she said.

  “Ah.” He gazed at her for a long moment. “You were splendid.”

  She laughed. “I’ve no doubt of that! I meant that I wished to compliment you.” She tilted her head. “I know that a woman’s first time is usually rather unpleasant.”

  His face softened. “I did not wish such for you,” he said, his voice husky and tender.

  Her heart turned over and gave a few extra thumps. She let out a shaky breath. “Well, thank you. I can’t imagine it could ever be better than that.”

  His dark eyes sharpened on her face. “Then your imagination is very limited.”

  Oh, my God. She hadn’t meant to issue a challenge, but she ought to have realized that Calder wasn’t the sort to rest on his laurels.

  Well, it would be a short life, but she would die happy!

  Then a sharp reminder of her experience shot through her, making her wince.

  “Ah.” She hesitated. “Perhaps later?”

  He ran the knuckles of one hand down her cheek. “That, my lady, is a bargain.”

  Deirdre drew in a long, shuddering breath. This man could turn her dreams into golden truth … or he could shatter them with a touch. To be so vulnerable before another, to risk herself so dangerously—every cautious, calculating bone in her body cried out, “Take care! Don’t fall!”

  Too late. She had fallen, breathless and quivering, into his arms with her heart wide open. All the years of self-preservation and watchfulness were as nothing. She was raw and naked and new.

  Yet, what could she be thinking? This was Calder, the most responsible, forthright man alive. He would never turn on her. She mustered a smile for him, though her feelings did not lend themselves to anything so mild. She managed, somehow, not to cling to him as he rose from the bed.

  She really must get hold of herself. After all, she was a married woman. She had this man for the rest of her life!

  He dressed quickly and, of course, efficiently. She rolled over onto her stomach and watched him tie his neckcloth with swift, practiced movements. “Duty calls?”

  His gaze slid to hers in the mirror. “Yes, though I can scarcely hear it through a clamoring desire to climb back in there with you.”

  She buried her smile in the pillow for a moment. Then she lifted her head. “Should I … stay here?”

  His dark eyes flared hotly for a moment, then he shook his head. “I’m bound to be a while. Don’t forget, I have a factory to fix.”

  Blinking, Deirdre realized that she’d forgotten entirely about the wreckage they’d left behind yesterday. “Merde,” she breathed.

  He snorted. “Indeed. Many times over, I’m afraid.”

  She propped herself up on her elbows and tilted her head as she gazed at him buttoning his waistcoat. “One would have thought you’d be there at cock’s crow, giving orders and bringing chaos to its knees.”

  He turned then and gazed at her naked, mostly uncovered length on the tumbled bedding. “One would have thought …” He shook off his daze. “Something tells me that I’m not going to be starting my days as early as I used to.”

  She dipped her head regally. “Why, thank you, kind sir!” She couldn’t resist wriggling just a bit, watching his face.

  His jaw hardened. “I. Am. Leaving. Now.”

  “Wait!” She scrambled off the bed, pulling the sheet with her to wrap loosely and not very effectively over her nudity.

  He waited, as commanded, as she approached him. His gaze ran from her bare legs to the fall of her tousled hair over her shoulders. “You will be the death of me, won’t you?”

  She lifted her chin. “Nonsense. I only require a husbandly kiss good-bye.”

  A smile quirked the corner of his mouth. “Nice try. You know I won’t be able to stop with one.”

  He moved to the bellpull. “I’ll ring for Patricia.

  “Heavens, no! She’ll die when she sees this mess. You’d better let me see what I can salvage first.”

  He pulled her into his arms and kissed the top of her head. “Throw it all out. I’ll pay triple to have new ones delivered by the end of the week.”

  She pushed at him. “These are not just gowns, O Lord Poundheavy! These are works of art. They are worth saving.”

  He slid his hands from her shoulders, down her arms. He loved having the right to touch her as he pleased. “Keep them then,” he murmured. “Leave them right there, on the bed. I quite liked it.”

  She blushed and looked away, but her snicker betrayed her. “Well, perhaps the blue one …”

  He laughed out loud, feeling free and buoyant as he never had before. She looked up at him in surprise, then she smiled slowly. He felt warmed by it, as if he’d stepped into the sunlight. There was time to talk later. They had the rest of their lives, after all!

  He hadn’t made it ten steps down the hall before he wanted to turn back and hold her again. How was he to concentrate on his broken factory when she was brushing that hair, dressing that body, drawing fresh stockings up those legs—

  So this is why my brother betrayed me.

  He didn’t blame him. If Rafe stood between him and Deirdre right now, Calder would seriously have to consider a spot of bloody murder! It was miraculous that Rafe had restrained himself with Phoebe for as long as he had. The sudden understanding lightened Calder’s heart further, until he grinned wickedly at Fortescue in the front hall.

  Leaving the house to fling himself upon his waiting horse, Calder laughed for nearly a mile thinking of his stoic butler’s dumbfounded confusion.

  Hell, one would think he’d never smiled before!

  Chapter Thirty-six

  Deirdre sent Calder off with a caress and a smile. The caress went with him but the smile stayed. She closed her bedchamber door with a dreamy sigh, then laughed at her own smitten behavior.

  After she cleaned herself and dressed in a simple chemise and wrapper, it was time to tidy up. The room was a shambles, and while Patricia certainly wouldn’t carry tales, Deirdre was still too shy about all this to want anyone to see it! First, she dealt with the washbowl and the sodden cloth with its betraying blots. That went to sizzle in the hearth while the water would simply have to go out the window.

  She opened the window and tossed the water high with a flourish. Was that a muffled curse from someone outside? Belatedly she thought to check if anyone was below, but even leaning out as far as she could, she saw nothing at the base of the great tree beside her window.

  Leaving the window open wide, she faced the pile of ruined gowns on the bed. Blushing, she wadded up the one that had lain beneath her. There was no saving that. A few of the others were only badly wrinkled, so she shook them out briskly and hung them in the wardrobe.

  The stunning blue one was a sad loss, though it had been her gain. As she lifted the blue gown to inspect the damage, she reveled in the richness of it. Lemente
ur was a genius. This was quite the most daring gown she’d ever worn, for although there was nothing indecent about the placement of the neckline, the gown had been so perfectly fitted that her bosom had risen from it like a dockside doxy’s!

  Smiling as she remembered Calder’s gobsmacked reaction, she held it before her and spun about, letting the heady rustle of the silk swirl around her plainer muslin skirts.

  Thud.

  She whirled at the noise behind her to find that someone had clambered through her window. “Baskin?”

  He clambered to his feet, somewhat the worse for his climb. He’d lost a button from his weskit, both shoulders of his tight dandy’s coat had popped their seams and he wore a leafy twig in his hair like a lopsided antler. He looked so ridiculous that her initial alarm began to fade and fury took over.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” She pointed at the window. “Get out this instant!”

  He gaped at her. “But I’ve been waiting for this chance to speak to you! When you opened your window and smiled down at me, I knew you wanted me to come to you!”

  Then he moved toward her, blocking her from the door, cutting her off from the bellpull. Now she remembered why she ought to fear him.

  Baskin was quite mad.

  With his groom riding several feet behind him, Calder rode away from Brook House and off to the factory that needed him so badly at the moment. So much to do there … so many problems to solve …

  Yet, for all the urgent importance of his goal, he could not seem to concentrate upon it.

  The churning city faded from his consciousness as he sat his mount, trotting a route the horse knew as well as he did. Gone were the shouts, the cries, the rattle of carriage wheels on cobbles, the clanging and banging of civilization that never seemed to ease.

  He liked the city, liked the orderliness of the solid, square buildings and the linear streets that took one where one needed to go. At the moment, however, he could have been riding through the darkest forest for all the attention he gave his world.

  Deirdre filled his mind. The memory of the last few hours swam through his thoughts in random sensory impressions that made his palms damp and his throat dry.

  The elegant ivory length of her … the warm fall of silken, golden hair over his skin … the way she smiled, sometimes bold, other times bashful … her hands roving hesitantly, then urgently, over his skin.

  What a heady mixture she was—innocence and sensuality, humor and strength, bravery and shyness.

  Yet, despite the pull of those soft, warm, wet thoughts, he was riding away from her at this very moment.

  Idiot.

  Oh, yes. He was an idiot indeed.

  You should go back immediately, lock yourself in that bedchamber for the next three weeks and make many more such memories! To hell with the damn factory!

  All right.

  Wait. No. Not all right. There was work to be done, problems to be solved, matters to put in order …

  All of which could easily be put in someone else’s hands. He had people to manage this sort of thing, competent, talented people who were twitching for more responsibility and status.

  Stunned by the concept, and by the ease with which it could be carried out, Calder halted his horse on the middle of the bridge. Behind him, his groom halted as well. The tide of humanity flowed around them, giving their fine attire and even finer horses a respectful margin.

  Let me get this straight. I could, quite simply, go home?

  Home. Not Brook House. Home, where his wife and child awaited him.

  Home … to his family.

  Oh, yes.

  With that thought ringing through his mind on a pure crystal note, Calder signaled his groom and turned his horse sharply about.

  DEIRDRE STOOD CAPTIVE in the center of her bedchamber with Baskin between her and the door. Perhaps she ought to smile at him, to cajole him. After all, Baskin was a pup, a sop to her pride, a pawn in a game she wasn’t interested in playing any longer. Wasn’t he?

  Unfortunately, something seemed to have inspired the darker side of Mr. Baskin. Far too alarmed to smile, Deirdre waited cautiously. He advanced upon her, his eyes hot and cheeks flushed as he gazed at her loose hair and flimsy attire.

  “I’ve a plan, my darling,” he said urgently. “It’s so daring and outrageous that no one will expect it, least of all the Beast of Brookhaven!”

  Keeping one eye on her goal, the door to the hall, Deirdre held out a placating hand. Where were the servants? Could she reach the bellpull from here?

  “I must look a sight. Won’t you wait for me downstairs, Mr. Baskin?” No, blast it. She lacked four or five steps yet. “I’ll have Fortescue bring us some tea—” She turned in a rush.

  “No!” Baskin lunged forward to pull her away from the embroidered strap that swung just out of her reach. He grabbed her arm and towed her toward the bed. “You mustn’t alert his servants! They’re part of his scheme!”

  She tried to pull away naturally. “What scheme? Who?” His grip didn’t slacken. She’d sometimes managed to slip away from Tessa by relaxing her resistance for a moment. Putting her other hand gently over where his knuckles went white with the force of his grasp, she let herself down to sit next to him on the mattress. “Please, Mr. Baskin, help me understand.”

  He leaned close. “I’m going to save you from Brookhaven!” His eyes were wild with mingled fear and excitement and his breath reeked.

  Deirdre shrank away. “You’re drunk, sir!” You’re mad, you idiot!

  Careful. He was on the brink of losing control. She’d fought off enough of Tessa’s groping suitors to know that much. If she screamed in this vast house, would anyone hear?

  “Drunk?” He wheezed a high chuckle. “No, no, just a little liquid courage, as my new friend says. He’s a friend to you, as well, you know. You have many friends.”

  “Indeed?” She could bloody well use a few right now! Nodding slowly, she tried to peel his fingers off her aching arm. “Mr. Baskin, I fear you do not know your own strength.”

  He wrapped his other hand about her other arm and she found herself quite thoroughly pinned in his grip. He might seem effete, but she was no match for him still. Seated as she was, she had no opportunity to kick him anywhere useful, so she held that plan in reserve. Perhaps she was in no real danger. This was Baskin. Likely he only wanted to plead his devotion to her again.

  Then why did every instinct in her body scream for her to run for her life?

  She took a breath and became stern. “Mr. Baskin! Let me go at once! My husband awaits me—”

  “That’s my plan!” He smiled joyously. “Your husband won’t want you after we’ve consummated our love!”

  “What?”

  “Oh, my love, my beautiful Deirdre—I know you’ve saved yourself for me!” And he was on her, nuzzling his wet mouth into her neck, pressing her back onto the bed with his weight until she could scarcely breathe.

  “Baskin!” She struggled, but he simply held her arms down and rendered her helpless. She kicked now in earnest, but he trapped her limbs beneath his weight as he pressed her down. She tried to scream, but her cries were stifled as his mouth came down over hers, wet and disgusting.

  She writhed furiously, but she couldn’t dislodge him, could scarcely breathe—

  Bite him!

  Yes—

  But her teeth closed on empty air as he flew away from her, landing against the nearest wall with a crash that shook the house.

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  Calder! “Oh, thank God!” Wiping her arm across her bruised mouth in revulsion, Deirdre scrambled up to see her husband pounding the living daylights out of her assailant, the black rage on his face dangerous to behold.

  After the first few blows, which Deirdre shamelessly relished, her fury turned to fear. Calder didn’t look as though he planned to stop anytime soon!

  Baskin, who had seemed so powerful and dangerous just moments before, now in Calder’s enraged hands seeme
d pathetic and weak, a victim of too much imagination and too little sense.

  “Stop!” Deirdre rushed forward to wrap her hands around Calder’s raised fist. “You mustn’t kill him!”

  Calder froze, then turned his head slowly to look at her. She shrank back from his furious, accusatory glare, her hands slipping numbly from his. He couldn’t think—“Calder, no—”

  “Leave her alone!” Baskin struggled to rise from his semiconscious sprawl. “This is all my doing—she had no idea I’d come up with a plan for us to run away together! She feared she was going to have to stay wed to you forever!”

  Deirdre gasped. Baskin’s lovestruck protestations weren’t helping her case! “Shut up, you idiot!” No, blast it, that only made it look as though she had something to hide!

  She turned her back on Baskin and faced Calder. “Please, Calder—you’ve misunderstood this completely! Baskin—” Baskin tried to rape me. That would only get the stupid boy killed outright! “Baskin has had a bit too much to drink. I’m sure that’s the only reason why he would try something like that—here in Brook House itself!” Couldn’t he see that only a drunken idiot would risk such a thing?

  “As opposed to somewhere else, you mean? Your aunt’s house, for instance? Haven’t you been seeing him for months?”

  She drew back. “Wh—what? No, Calder, don’t be an idiot—”

  His eyes snapped black ice. “I won’t be, not any longer at least.” He took her by the hand, his grip implacable but not painful. “Fortescue, toss milady’s paramour into the street. I have things I wish to say to her.”

  He turned and strode toward his bedchamber, moving so quickly that Deirdre could scarcely keep up. She tried to pull away, or slow him down at least, but it was as though she were a feather in his wake.

  Anyway, why was she struggling? She wanted nothing more than to get Calder away from Baskin and somewhere quiet so she could explain this entire hideous mess properly! So when he attempted to drag her, she simply left her hand in his and outran his long legs, reaching the door before him.