Stolen Encounters with the Duchess

by Julia Justiss

  Davie reddened under her scrutiny. ‘I appreciate the compliment, but I certainly don’t deserve it. I’m no paragon, Faith. I have just as many flaws and faults as any man.’

  ‘Don’t disillusion me by pointing them out,’ she said with a smile.

  ‘Carlisle might turn...unpleasant when you dismiss him. Are you sure you want to tackle that now? You could wait until Englemere finds you a replacement.’

  ‘It won’t be any easier then. I’m not always a meek little mushroom! I can be hard, even toplofty, if the reason to be so is compelling enough. No matter how unpleasant the interview, knowing Carlisle will be gone at the end of it will make the experience worth it!’

  ‘How fierce you are,’ he teased.

  ‘Fiercer than you might expect,’ she tossed back. ‘Now, before the boys return and the groom brings out your horse, let me thank you one last time for escorting us today.’

  ‘You seem to thrive, back with your family, here in the countryside you’ve always loved. You certainly haven’t lost your talent for climbing trees!’

  ‘I do sometimes have difficulty climbing down, though.’

  ‘Ah, that’s the part I like best. The climbing down.’ He stepped closer, close enough for her to feel the heat radiating from his body.

  The coachman and grooms were still in the stable with her boys. For this moment, blocked from view by the coach, they were almost...alone.

  ‘I liked the “getting down”, too,’ Faith said, her throat suddenly so constricted that the words came out in a whisper. The passion that had been simmering beneath the surface all day flared up to envelop her in heat and need. Helpless against his appeal, she closed the distance between them and angled her head up.

  For a moment, he hesitated. ‘This is madness,’ he muttered. But even as she whimpered with frustration and urgency, he cupped her face with his hands and leaned down to kiss her.

  His touch was gentle, tender, his lips tracing hers almost with reverence, the contact so sweet, she felt the burn of tears. But then, as she clutched at his coat, he coaxed her lips to part and delved inside.

  She gasped as his tongue found hers, laved and stroked at first lightly, then with increasing force. Desire flaming hotter, she brought her hands up to clasp his neck, urging the kiss harder, deeper.

  He tasted like tea, with a sweet echo of jam. She couldn’t get enough of the strength of his body against hers, the tender hold of his fingers on her face such a contrast to the fierceness with which he was devouring her mouth. She wanted more, closer—

  And then he was stepping back, thrusting her away, keeping her at arm’s length when she would have closed the distance between them again. Only then, her senses swirling in a vortex of desire, did she hear it—the gruff tones of the grooms in counterpoint to the soprano of her sons’ voices, the whinny of the team being led to the traces.

  Davie cleared his throat. ‘Shall I assist you into the coach, Duchess?’ he said loudly, his voice a little ragged. Not meeting her glance, he thrust out his arm for her to take and led her to the door, which one of the grooms trotted over to open.

  Still beyond speech, she could only look back mutely at him as the groom took her hand from Davie and helped her up the steps. Then, before she could recover, he turned to accept his horse’s reins from another groom, and swung himself into the saddle.

  ‘I’ll ride ahead for a while,’ he told her over the giggles and chatter of her sons as they climbed up, agile as monkeys. ‘I feel the need of a good gallop.’ Giving her a nod, he put spurs to his mount and set off.

  Her heartbeat only now beginning to slow, Faith watched him ride away. How she, too, would have appreciated the freedom of breeches and the possibility of a hard gallop, with a sharp wind to cool passion’s fire and clear the fog of lust from her brain!

  She hoped he wouldn’t regret the kiss, for she certainly did not.

  No, it had not been prudent; had they been caught, explaining it away would have been difficult, and she would place no reliance at all on the willingness of Ashedon’s servants, whose master had for years provided them with so much delicious fodder for gossip, to refrain from whispering about it.

  But all she could think about was how wonderful it had been. And how, in a more discreet place and time, she could induce him to repeat it.

  Chapter Seven

  Idiot, idiot, idiot. The words echoed in Davie’s head with the cadence of hoofbeats as he pressed his mount hard.

  Fiercely as he repeated to himself all the reasons why his rash act in kissing Faith was regrettable, he couldn’t make himself feel sorry.

  Not being sorry didn’t mean he didn’t recognise that he absolutely could not repeat such recklessness. He’d been given a trust in escorting her, offering his guarantee in turn to care for her and keep her safe. And then, he’d risked that very safety and reputation because, with opportunity and, admittedly, her encouragement, he hadn’t been able to control himself.

  He’d told her he had the same failings as any man. He was only human, and a man could stand only so much temptation. But was he a man of honour, or a cad, to indulge himself in brief carnal satisfaction at the cost of her good name?

  It was more than lust, his heart rebuked. How could he have resisted, when the girl he’d loved for so many years turned her angelic face up, inviting his kiss? He could no more have refused that invitation than he could stop himself from breathing.

  So he’d better learn to hold his breath. Or not see her again.

  Everything within him revolted in furious denial at that alternative. He would be better, his senses coaxed his implacable sense of honour.

  For Giles was right. The family of so rich and high-ranking a widow, still so young and beautiful—and perhaps the lady herself—would be formulating plans for her future, once a decent period of mourning was over. Plans that sooner rather than later would sweep her out of his orbit again.

  He had one brief, precious chance to enjoy her company. He wanted to soak up every minute before it was no longer possible.

  Could he trust himself?

  He would have to do better. Because he had to see her. He wouldn’t squander this only-once-more-in-this-lifetime opportunity to be with her.

  Freshly resolved, he rode back to the coach.

  With no real possibility of private chat, any awkwardness between them soon dissipated. Daylight was fast fading, allowing him to point out to the boys scenes they’d observed on the drive out, but in a different aspect. Torches burned outside inn entrances, casting their flickering light on the roads; the carts of merchants unloading the day’s remains of goods impeded travel, while other business owners were closing and latching the shutters on their shops. Boisterous voices rang out from the taverns they passed, townspeople and farmers stopping at the end of the day for a convivial round of ale before travelling home.

  * * *

  All too soon, their little caravan reached the mews behind Berkeley Square.

  While he dismounted, one of the grooms ran in to summon the nursery maid, who hurried out to lift the sleeping Colin off his mother’s lap.

  Matthew bounded over to shake his hand. ‘Thank you ever so much, Mr Smith, for taking us to Aunt Sarah’s! You will take us again soon, won’t you? And maybe to visit your farm?’

  ‘That will depend on your mama, but I will if I can,’ he said, smiling at the eager boy.

  Edward also lingered, waiting his turn to shake Davie’s hand. ‘Thank you, Mr Smith. And I’m sorry for what I said earlier. You were a very good escort, and so I shall tell Carlisle.’

  ‘A handsome admission, Ashedon,’ Davie said, his lips twitching as he masked his amusement at the boy’s serious manner. The child certainly did need a tutor who could encourage a bit more liveliness in him.

  And then Faith stood before him, loo
king up at him gravely. Staring into her beautiful blue eyes, words failed, and everything within him turned to yearning.

  He gritted his teeth to stifle it, sternly reminding himself of his pledge.

  ‘A marvellous day at Sarah’s,’ she said. ‘And an even more marvellous ending to it.’

  ‘The ending was marvellous,’ he replied, glad she was addressing the matter so openly. ‘But it can’t happen again. You know that, Faith! It’s much too dangerous. How can I pledge to protect you, and then put you at risk of falling victim to the worst sort of gossip and conjecture? Haven’t you suffered enough of that at Ashedon’s hands?’

  She shuddered, and he knew his words had struck home. ‘Yes, but it wasn’t like that, Davie! Not like his...amusements.’

  ‘Maybe not. But society wouldn’t see it any differently.’

  ‘That’s so unfair,’ she said softly.

  ‘That he might “amuse” himself as he chose, but you must be circumspect? Unfair, certainly, but the way of the world. And remember, even Ashedon, for all his high rank, ended up forfeiting his reputation for his actions.’

  ‘I suppose you’re right,’ she agreed with obvious regret before her eyes widened, her expression turning alarmed. ‘You aren’t going to tell me that you won’t see me again, are you?’

  ‘I probably ought to...but I can’t,’ he admitted. ‘I will tell you that I intend to do much better. I couldn’t live with myself if, through my own weakness, I endangered your reputation, or generated the slightest bit of gossip about you. Perhaps it would be best if we met only at Lady Lyndlington’s.’

  ‘Or in the company of my sons? They all like you so much, even Edward! I know they would enjoy it immensely if you could accompany us to the park, or on an outing—I intend there to be many, once I get rid of Carlisle! Of course, I know you are busy, so it’s presumptuous of me to assume—’

  ‘No, I enjoyed spending time with them, too, and would like to spend more.’

  ‘Family time. That will be...safe, won’t it, Davie? Now that we have met again, it would be very hard for me to give up a friendship that, despite our...indiscretion, our outing today showed how much I’ve missed.’

  ‘Family time,’ he repeated. ‘Friendship. Yes, I can agree to that.’

  She gave him that beautiful Faith smile, the one that seemed lit from within and warmed him to his toes, as if he stood before a blazing hearth. ‘Good. So...I’ll see you at Lady Lyndlington’s? I got a note today, inviting me to another dinner later this week. You will be there?’

  ‘Thursday? Then, yes,’ he said when she nodded.

  With a moue of distaste, she said, ‘Unfortunately, I must go in. Thank you again, Davie. For taking me back where I belong, to what I should never have left. After today, I can just begin to see my way back to my family. To who I truly am.’

  How he wished there might be a place for him in that life! ‘In the country, climbing trees,’ he teased to ease the ache in his heart.

  ‘Especially climbing trees. Maybe we can even get my far-too-pompous Edward up in one.’

  ‘He’s still so young. Take away the pompous tutor, and you’ll likely see a change.’

  ‘I hope so. Well—again, thank you, and goodbye.’

  ‘Goodbye, Duchess.’

  Holding the reins of his horse, Davie lingered, watching her until she was lost from sight beyond the wall into the garden. Then, sighing, he remounted his gelding and nudged him to a trot.

  Could they remain friends this time, as they had failed to do when she married Ashedon?

  Probably not. When she wed again, which she surely would—much as it stabbed his heart like a dagger to think of it—he imagined her husband would frown on her friendship with another man.

  Unless she married a political figure.

  Which was possible. She was certainly lovely and intelligent enough to make an excellent wife for a man with a government or diplomatic post.

  Could he stand remaining just a friend, knowing that some other man could taste the lips he’d tasted tonight, bind against him the softness of her bosom, that delectable warm round of bottom...possess her completely? His arousal, which the gallop had barely dissipated, hardened again.

  Unthinkable to turn away from her, and torture to imagine her with another.

  But if she were to wed a politician, why not you? an insidious little voice whispered.

  Impossible, he answered it. A duchess does not wed a commoner. A man, as her son succinctly put it, without a title or a grand estate.

  Maybe not now... He’d already been awarded some profitable government sinecures, whose income had allowed him to purchase back his family’s farm and provided a steady source of funds greater than he’d ever expected to earn. If the Reform party swept the next few Parliaments, he might well rise to a Cabinet post, even the Prime Ministership.

  Where commoners were often knighted.

  A widowed duchess might be able to marry such a man.

  Except a young, beautiful widowed duchess wouldn’t remain unmarried long enough for him to become a man worthy of her hand.

  Uttering an expletive that made his horse shy, Davie set his jaw and headed for the livery. Enough anguishing over impossible alternatives. He’d put it all from his mind, concentrate on going through the dossiers he must discuss tomorrow, and think no more of Faith.

  At least, not until next Thursday.

  * * *

  Buoyed by her time with her family and heartened by Englemere’s and Davie’s support, Faith marched back into the Berkeley Square town house ready to do battle.

  She had her first opportunity at dinner. When the Dowager began to complain again about her visit to the country, Faith interrupted with a reminder that, as her brother-in-law was a marquess, the Dowager surely would not wish her to insult such a high-ranking peer by failing to respond to his invitation. As the Dowager sat, mouth gaping in surprise at being cut off in mid-sentence, with a great deal of satisfaction, Faith added, ‘Besides, now that the boys are older, it’s time they became better acquainted with their cousins. I intend to visit my sister at Brookhollow Lodge quite frequently.’ Then, after calmly sipping her soup, she enquired in a pleasant tone what her mother-in-law had done with herself over the course of the day.

  * * *

  The heady sense of accomplishment she felt after sparring with her husband’s mother made her positively relish the interview with Carlisle. Summoning the tutor after dinner, she told him in the same pleasant but firm voice that, much as she appreciated his efforts on behalf of her sons’ education, she now wished it to go in a different direction. She would see he was paid the rest of his quarter’s salary and be happy to write him a character, but she would very much appreciate it if he could vacate Ashedon House by the end of the following day, as her cousin, the Marquess of Englemere, was sending her a replacement and she wished to have his quarters made ready. Before the stunned and hapless man could stutter out a reply, she nodded graciously, said, ‘That will be all,’ and waved the footman to usher him out.

  The alacrity with which the servant complied told her the tutor hadn’t been a favourite with the rest of the staff, either. Probably always puffing off his superior position as an intimate of the new Duke.

  Not any longer, she thought. As soon as the sound of their footsteps faded down the hallway, she bounded out of her chair, hugged herself and did a little dance around the room. If she hadn’t been afraid she might be overheard, she would have given a whoop of triumph that would have done her sons proud.

  After that interview, she capped off the pleasure of the evening by waltzing into the Dowager’s sitting room to inform her that, as the country air had made her sleepy, she would not be joining her for tea and cards, but would repair to the library to do some reading. While her husband’s mother stared at her as if she h
ad grown two heads, probably wondering if some actress off the stage was impersonating her normally meek and obedient daughter-in-law, she danced to the library to choose a book, startling the butler by ordering a most out-of-the-ordinary celebratory glass of wine.

  Now, if she could just master as well the conundrum of what to do about her fascination with Davie...

  That being as yet beyond her ability, she settled in with a sigh to enjoy the wine and the novel. Not until she’d read long enough to truly become sleepy did it occur to her that, with Carlisle on his way out, there was no one to countermand her reading a story to her boys.

  Energised by the thought, she sprang up, her step only slowing when, at the bong of the mantel clock, she realised it was rather late. Her sons were probably long abed.

  At the least, she could look in on them. Picking up a volume of stories, she took the stairs up to the nursery.

  Once there, she discovered, as she’d suspected, that the boys were already asleep. As she tiptoed through the room, her spirits soared at the realisation that her days of having to sneak into the nursery were over. She would now direct her sons’ education. She would now be fully involved in their lives.

  Where would she take them for their first excursion? she wondered as she halted by each bed, smoothing a curl off Matthew’s forehead, straightening the covers Colin had tossed aside. To see the antiquities at the British Museum...the menagerie at the Tower?

  So many possibilities, and they were still young enough that she would have years to spend with them before she was confronted by the necessity, as Sarah had just been, to send Edward off to Oxford. She intended to savour every moment, reviving those old dreams that, despite her husband’s discouragement, she’d never relinquished of having them grow up a close and loving family like her own.