Stolen Encounters with the Duchess

by Julia Justiss

  She gave a little sigh, the sadness of it piercing his heart. ‘Ashedon and his doxies were bad enough, and now this. Sometimes I don’t think I can bear it any longer.’

  His heart ached for the gentle spirit whose girlish dreams of being loved and cherished had been slowly crushed under the heel of her husband’s indifference, leaving her trapped, a lonely and neglected wife. As Davie was trapped in his place, unable to help her.

  Except, always, to be a friend.

  To his dismay, the tears he’d seen on her lashes earlier began to silently slip down her cheeks. Putting up a hand to try to mask them, she turned away.

  And then, somehow, she was in his arms, cradled against his chest. She clung to him and he clutched her tightly, almost ready to bless the ruffians he’d rescued her from, for without that incident, the marvel of holding her would never have been his. It was a dream come true; oh, far better than any dream, to feel the softness of her pressed against him, her lavender scent filling his nostrils, her silky blonde curls under his chin. He could die right now, and be content, for he would never get any closer to heaven.

  And if his body burned to possess her fully, he rebuked it. He’d never expected to have even this much bliss; he’d not ask for more.

  Inevitably and all too soon, she got herself back under control, and pulled away.

  Letting her go, when all he wanted was to hold her for ever, was the hardest thing he’d ever done.

  ‘Sorry,’ she said gruffly. ‘Usually I’m not so poor-spirited.’

  ‘Don’t be sorry. I’m only glad I was here, to stand your friend.’

  ‘My friend. I have few enough of those. I did try to be careful tonight, I assure you! I suppose...I suppose I was just too tired and preoccupied, because I never noticed the two men who must have followed me. They seemed to appear out of nowhere.’

  Davie shook his head with a shudder. ‘I’m only glad I happened along. What they might have done to you, I don’t even want to contemplate.’

  She nodded. ‘They threatened to take me to a brothel. Could they drag a woman there against her will, or were they just trying to frighten me?’

  ‘I’m afraid it’s quite possible. A little laudanum, and you might have awakened to find yourself locked in a room in some den of vice somewhere,’ he answered grimly.

  ‘Except for not seeing my sons again, I’m not sure I’d have cared. I thought of leaving Ashedon, oh, so many times! But I couldn’t have taken my boys with me—legally, they belonged to him, of course, and Edward is the heir. Though I saw little enough of them; the Duke didn’t think children should be spoiled by having their mother dote on them. Now that he’s gone, I’ve tried to alter that, though I must continually fight against the Dowager and their tutor to do it. As long as I get to be with my boys, one way or another, I will endure it—for now, anyway.’

  ‘Have you talked with your family, your sisters? Do they know how unhappy you are?’

  She smiled wryly. ‘I...I’m not that close to them any more. The Duke actively discouraged me from seeing my family at the beginning of our marriage. Silly me, I thought it was because he wanted me all to himself. Which he did, in a way. He didn’t want anyone around who might interfere with his authority. So over the years, we...drifted further and further apart. As you and I did.’

  He nodded. ‘I’m sure they regret that as much as I do. Could you not try to re-establish ties?’

  ‘I suppose. But there isn’t anything they can do to help me, either. Most of the time I manage better.’ She tried to summon a smile for him. ‘It’s only rarely that I feel as if I’ll...burst out of my skin if I don’t get away from all of it.’

  ‘As you did tonight.’

  ‘As I did tonight.’

  He looked at her, frowning. ‘At the moment, I don’t have any clever ideas on how to make things better. But will you promise me something?’

  ‘What?’ she asked, tilting her head at him with an enquiring look, and instantly, he was catapulted back into the memories.

  How many times that summer had she gazed up at him just like that, her eager mind probing further into whatever they were discussing—poetry, politics, agriculture? As if the whole world excited and enthralled her, and she could not learn enough about it.

  Fury fired in him again to realise how much of that joy had been squeezed out of her.

  Suppressing the anger, he replied, ‘The next time you feel you cannot stand it a minute longer, please, don’t go wandering around the streets by yourself! Send me a note; I’ll meet you somewhere, anywhere, and we can talk. You’re not alone, Faith. You’ll never be alone, while I still draw breath. Promise me?’

  She studied him for a moment. ‘You mean that?’

  ‘Of course. I never say anything I don’t mean.’

  She nodded, the faintest of smiles on her lips. ‘Yes, I remember that about you. And how you were always a loyal friend. Very well, I promise.’

  ‘Good,’ he said, troubled still, but feeling a bit better about her situation. ‘We should be at Berkeley Square shortly, which is fortunate—especially if your mother-in-law noticed you were gone, and rushed home to find you.’

  She shrugged. ‘She’d probably rejoice to have me gone. Except, she’d no longer have so ready a target for her complaints.’

  ‘You’re just weary. Everything will look better in the morning, when you’re rested.’

  ‘Will it?’ She smiled. ‘Maybe for a man who’s set out to change the world. I do hear some of what you’re accomplishing, by the way, even in the wilderness of the ton. Not that anyone talks about it to me directly, of course—politics being too intellectually challenging for a woman. No, we are left to discuss trimming bonnets, managing servants, and perhaps, if we’ve very bold, speculating about who might make the best lover, or which dancer in the Green Room has become the latest mistress of which nobleman.’

  He grimaced. ‘There could be so much more than that! As you doubtless know, my friend Giles Hadley, Viscount Lyndlington, recently married Lady Margaret Roberts. She has played political hostess to her father, Lord Witlow, for years; not only does she understand politics, she and her father frequently bring together the best minds in government, science and art to debate all manner of topics at their “discussion evenings”.’

  ‘That sounds wonderful—and so much more stimulating that anything I get to experience. Unless...’ Her dull eyes brightened. ‘Did you really mean what you said, about meeting me? ‘

  ‘Didn’t I already answer that?’

  ‘Then...would you meet me tomorrow afternoon? I usually drive with the Dowager during the Promenade Hour in Hyde Park, but after tonight, I would rather not endure the hour-long lecture she will surely subject me to about my improper behaviour in leaving that wretched party. Would you meet me instead—at Gunter’s, perhaps? No one we know should be there at that hour, so we won’t be disturbed. I would love to hear more about what you are doing in Parliament. Perhaps I will even understand it.’

  He ought to be in committee meetings, but when she looked at him with that appeal in her eyes, he’d have agreed to miss the final vote on the bill. ‘Yes, I’ll meet you there.’

  The carriage slowed, indicating they were about to reach their destination. Davie felt a stab of disappointment; he could have ridden about London, talking with Faith, all night.

  Bowing to the inevitable, he hopped out as the vehicle stopped and reached up to hand her down. ‘I’ll wait until you’re safely inside,’ he said as she descended.

  ‘Very well.’ She took a step towards the front door, then stopped, as if she couldn’t quite bring herself to re-enter the Duchess’s realm. Turning back to him, she went up on tiptoe and gave him a quick kiss on his jaw.

  While his heart stuttered, then raced in his chest, she said, ‘Thank you, Davie. For your rescue, and muc
h more. For the first time in a long time, I have a “tomorrow” I can look forward to.’

  As did he, he thought as she ran up the steps. The privilege of escorting her about probably wouldn’t last long. He intended to relish every second.

  Chapter Two

  The following afternoon, after dispatching a note to her mother-in-law, a late riser who had not yet left her rooms, informing her a previous engagement would prevent her driving to the Park, Faith let her maid put the finishing touches to her coiffure. ‘There, madame,’ Yvette said, her eyes shining with pride. ‘Who could find fault with such an angel?’

  ‘A great many,’ Faith muttered. But knowing the soft-hearted girl was only trying to encourage her, she gave her a smile. ‘The new arrangement is lovely. Have you a name for it?’

  ‘Trône de la Reine,’ the maid replied. ‘And comme ça accord, madame!’

  ‘Thank you. I shall be the loveliest lady present.’ Thankfully, not at the Park, Faith added silently as she descended to the hackney the butler had summoned, her spirits buoyed by knowing she’d not have to grit her teeth while the Dowager recited the long litany of offences she’d committed last night. Instead, anticipation rising at the thought, she would have Davie to talk to.

  She’d missed the company of the young man to whom she’d grown even closer than she was to her sisters during the time she’d spent as a guest of her cousin, stretching a visit planned for a month into a summer-long idyll. His calm counsel, his stimulating ideas and his zeal to create a better future had inspired and excited her. Truth to tell, she’d fancied herself a bit in love with him by the time she’d been summoned home to prepare for her upcoming Season.

  Only too aware that he was no fitting match for a daughter of one of the oldest families in England, she’d nonetheless hoped she might share with him some of her thoughts and observations of London, but he’d remained at Oxford during her Season. Instead, mesmerised by the Duke’s assiduous and flattering attentions, envied by every other unmarried female on the Marriage Mart and their resentful mamas, she’d allowed herself to believe she’d fallen as much in love with her noble suitor as he had with her.

  Why had she never noticed how cold and calculating his eyes were, compared to the warmth and compassion in Davie’s?

  Far too late to regret that now.

  With a sigh, Faith let the footman hand her into the carriage. Glancing back towards the shuttered windows of the town house, she felt a pang of foreboding. She was likely to draw enough fire for not attending her mother-in-law’s daily ride through the Park; were the woman to learn Faith missed that important event to associate with a man so far beneath her station, she’d be harangued for a month.

  Still, it was time to wrench herself out of the influence of her mother-in-law and the misery that evoked. The Dowager had no real control over her; without the dictates of a husband to prevent it, she could involve herself more in the wider world.

  Just talking with Davie, she knew, would help her do that. With each street that brought their rendezvous closer, her excitement and anticipation grew.

  * * *

  At last the carriage arrived, Faith so impatient she could hardly wait for the vehicle to stop before climbing down and hurrying into the establishment. She spotted Davie immediately, seated in an alcove on the far side of the room. The appreciation on his face as she approached his table made her glad she’d decided to wear the new grey gown that flattered her figure and showed her complexion to advantage.

  ‘Duchess, what a pleasant surprise,’ he said, rising and giving her a bow. ‘How lovely you look!’

  ‘How kind you are, Mr Smith,’ she replied. ‘Though as a mother of three, I’m afraid I’ve lost the bloom of youth you probably remember.’

  ‘Nonsense, it would take more than a brace of boys to erase that,’ he replied, helping her to a seat. ‘Tea? Or would you prefer ices?’

  ‘Tea, please.’

  After sending the waiter off for refreshments, he looked back to study her.

  ‘You do look rested. Truly fresh as a young girl, and not at all like the venerable mother of three.’

  She laughed. ‘I’d hoped for more children, but with three boys making the succession secure, Ashedon...lost interest.’ Or had he kept mistresses all along, and she’d just been too stupid to notice? ‘Somehow, growing up with a brother and all those sisters, I expected when I had a family of my own, I’d be surrounded by children. But as their mother, I spend much of the day in my world, and they in the nursery, in theirs.’

  Davie chuckled. ‘Unlike growing up in a farm family, where the children are underfoot all day, learning from their mamas or doing chores for their papas. Close even at night, stuffed as they are in the loft just above the main room, like sausage in a casing! Maybe you should have been a simple farmer’s wife.’

  ‘Maybe I should have.’

  She looked up into his eyes, those kind eyes she remembered so well—and suddenly, saw a flash of heat there, so intense and sudden it shook her.

  It shook her even more to feel an answering heat from deep within. Suddenly she was brought back to last night, where despite her fatigue and misery, she’d been intensely aware of being held against his chest.

  His broad, solid chest. The tall, rangy youth she’d known had grown into a tall, well-muscled, physically impressive man. Not fitting the wasp-waisted, whip-thin dandy profile now so popular among society’s gentlemen, he was instead big, sturdy, and solid, built more like a...a medieval knight, or a boxer. Strong, powerful, and imposing.

  For a time, while he held her, she’d felt—safe, and at peace. If she were still the naïve and trusting girl she’d once been, she might even have said ‘cherished’.

  But that was merely an illusion born of need and wishful thinking.

  Still, she hadn’t mistaken the desire she’d just seen in his eyes before he masked it, nor the physical response he evoked in her. That unexpected attraction would...complicate a renewal of their friendship, yet at the same time, she was fiercely glad of it. The realisation that he wanted her was a balm to her battered self-esteem, reviving a sense she’d nearly lost of herself as a desirable woman.

  She cleared her throat nervously. Welcome as it was, the unexpected sensual tension humming between them was so unexpected, and she had so little experience dealing with it, she felt suddenly awkward. ‘Thank you for meeting me,’ she said at last. ‘I was so relieved not to have to ride in the Park today and feel all those eyes on me, while the Dowager harangued.’

  ‘I suppose that’s the price of being a Duchess. You will always be the focus of attention, wherever you go and whatever you do.’

  She wrinkled her nose. ‘Yes, and it’s so distasteful. I don’t know why that fact didn’t occur to me before I wed a duke, but it didn’t. I’ve never enjoyed the attention.’ She sighed. ‘Especially as Ashedon and his women provided so much scandal for society to watch my reaction to.’

  His jaw tightened and a fierce look came over his face before he burst out, ‘Your husband was a fool! Even if I shouldn’t say it.’

  Gratified, she smiled sadly. ‘I didn’t mind him being a fool. I just minded that he never loved me. But I didn’t come today to whine about poor, neglected little me. I want to hear about something of real importance. Tell me of your work! I always hoped we would maintain our friendship, but after the wedding, and with you at Oxford...I do know that, with Sir Edward and my cousin Nicky’s support, you were elected MP from Hazelwick shortly after leaving university. And I seem to remember something about “Hadley’s Hellions”? What was that?’

  He chuckled. ‘Fortunately for a commoner like me, I met Giles Hadley soon after arriving at Oxford. As I imagine you know, although he’s Viscount Lyndlington, until very recently he’d been estranged from his father, the earl. After growing up in an isolated cottage, he didn�
�t form friendships with anyone from the ton, bonding instead when he was sent to Eton with other outsiders—Ben Tawny, the natural son of Viscount Chilford, and Christopher Lattimar, son of Lord Vraux.

  ‘That name I do know,’ she said. ‘One of the “Vraux Miscellany”, siblings supposedly all fathered by different men?’

  Davie nodded. ‘With those backgrounds, you can understand why all of them felt that society and government needed reforming, with the power to change not left in the tight-fisted hands of a few whose only qualification for the job was that their families had always held it.’

  ‘A view of reform you always supported,’ she inserted, recalling their spirited discussions of government and politics that long-ago summer.

  ‘I did. When Giles stumbled upon me, reading alone in one of the pubs, he immediately drew me into his circle. First, out of kindness for a commoner whom he knew would never be invited into any of the aristocratic groups. But once we began discussing what we hoped to accomplish once we left university, we soon discovered we aspired to the same goals.’

  ‘And those aspirations, in the eyes of the powerful, were enough for you to be labelled hellions?’ she guessed.

  ‘They were bad enough, but we didn’t win that label until some of the dons, churchmen all, discovered we aimed to eliminate the clergy’s seats in the Lords. An intention, they felt, that could only have been inspired by the devil.’

  She tilted her head at him. ‘Was it only that? Or was the name partly earned for exploits more scandalous than you care to mention to my innocent ears?’