Stolen Encounters with the Duchess

by Julia Justiss

  She must have been near the brink, too, for heedless of time and place, she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him closer still, bringing his throbbing erection tight against her belly. Knowing if she gave any indication of moving that sweet mouth to the part of him most desperate for her caress, he’d be well and truly lost, he somehow found enough will to break the kiss.

  Not enough will to release her, though. They stood with their arms wrapped around each other, the only sound their ragged, panting breaths and the distant call of a bird. Finally, with a sigh, she pushed away.

  ‘Though ending that before it went any further was prudent, it doesn’t make me feel any less like slapping you,’ she said, taking his arm and starting to walk again.

  ‘Slap away. I didn’t like ending it any more than you did.’

  She took a shuddering breath. ‘Maybe we ought to talk about...going to a place where we wouldn’t have to end it.’

  Not allowing his mind to explore the meaning behind that comment, Davie said, ‘Before we talk of anything else, I have a confession to make, as well as a prediction that I hope will leave you much relieved.’

  ‘A confession? Oh, dear—I’m not sure I like the sound of that.’

  ‘Although, to be prudent, I’d like to have you take your boys and go visit Lady Englemere for a few days, I’m nearly certain your problems with Lord Randall are over.’

  It took her only an instant to comprehend the implications. Halting, she dropped his arm and turned to face him. ‘What have you done? Oh, Davie, I begged you not to intervene! You haven’t shot him, have you? Or beaten him to a pulp?’

  ‘No, though it required a great deal of restraint to resist beating him to a pulp.’

  ‘But you did confront him—thereby providing him all the ammunition he needs to accuse us to the trustees! Which, unless you truly did murder him, he’s sure to do. And after you promised me! I wish I had slapped you! Now I’ll never be free of his menace! And if he ends up getting them to take my boys away, I’ll hate you f-for ever!’

  Her furious voice breaking as tears started in her eyes, she turned on her heel and stalked away from him. In two strides, he caught up and grabbed her arm.

  ‘Wait, Faith, let me explain! I didn’t break my promise.’

  She looked up at him, confused and miserable. ‘But—didn’t you just tell me you’d confronted Randall, hurt him, after I most particularly begged you not to?’

  ‘I promised not to physically assault him myself—and despite the utmost provocation, I did not.’

  ‘But you did confront him.’

  ‘I—talked with him. Predicted that he would cease his unwelcome attentions of his own free will, since it was the right thing to do. Which, in a way, he has. True, there are people at the gaming hell who could testify to seeing us together. But we parted without any altercation, so even if he were to return at some point and try to make an issue of it, no one could claim to have witnessed anything more than a conversation.’

  ‘‘If he should return at some point?’’ she echoed. ‘What, you had him kidnapped and transported?’ A reluctant smile tugging at her lips, she sighed and laid her hand back on his arm. ‘You’d better tell me the whole.’

  Briefly he summarised the events at the gaming hell and beside the Serpentine, concluding with the reports that Hine’s operative had seen Randall safely embarked to Calais.

  ‘I only wish I could have witnessed his dunking in the Serpentine!’ she said, laughing as if she were envisioning it. ‘I might have been too tempted to let him drown, though.’

  ‘I was tempted as well, I assure you. But a dead duke’s son would cause too much trouble.’

  ‘Oh, Davie, what a marvel you are! And so very clever about wording your promises! I shall have to remember that.’

  ‘You didn’t truly believe I would just sit on my hands and let him threaten you?’

  ‘Yes—no. Other men might have. But not you, Davie. I should have known you would find some way to thwart him.’

  I would die to protect you, he thought. Suppressing the words, he said instead, ‘Randall’s just a bully, Faith. Purposeless, idle, and too much indulged. That sorry breed only preys on the weak. I learned enough about them when I got to Oxford. I wasn’t quite so strapping then, but I was still strong enough. They soon learned not to bait the “farm boy”, and took their mischief elsewhere.’ He smiled. ‘My education in fisticuffs progressed rapidly.’

  ‘But you said—ah,’ she said, making the connection. ‘You stood up for the other boys.’

  He shrugged. ‘It was only right. Outsiders should stick together. Although, after Giles took me up, I never felt like an outsider again, even though I was. And am.’

  ‘That knack served you—and me—excellently well in this circumstance.’

  He chuckled. ‘Yes. I doubt Lord Randall will forget the events of that evening for a very long time.’

  ‘Do you think he wrote his mother? She’s not complained about him abandoning her, yet. Although, it’s not at all unusual for him to disappear for days at a time, without sending her any word, although ostensibly he’s living in her house. My son’s house, I should say.’

  ‘He was warned not to complain to anyone. Being mostly concerned with his own hide, I doubt he’ll contact her until he runs out of money. I’m reasonably sure he will remain in Calais for some time, and when he does return to England, he’ll avoid you.’ Unable to help himself, he added, ‘By then, you’ll probably have a new champion.’

  Suddenly, with a gasp, Faith halted. Taking both his hands, she looked up into his face, her expression eager. ‘I just realised the full extent of what you’ve accomplished! Not only are my boys safe, but now there is truly an opportunity for...for us. To come together as one. Oh, Davie, I know it’s shocking of me to propose it, but I...I want you so badly! I admire and honour and esteem you as the dearest friend I’ve ever had, but I want more. More of this...’

  She flung her arms around him and pulled his head down for another kiss, one that started already hot and needy and quickly intensified. One hand twined in his hair, she pursued his tongue, laving, sucking, urging him deeper. With the other, she slid her hand between them to stroke the iron rod of his erection.

  The pleasure was so intense, he thought he would shatter on the spot. But he couldn’t, wouldn’t, have her making love to him in a garden within view of the palace, where anyone who looked out an upper-storey window might see them.

  It still took him several minutes to find the strength to break the kiss. ‘Darling Faith, not here,’ he gasped.

  She leaned against him, trembling. ‘Yes, you’re right. Not here. I’ll come to you at Albany. Or I have money, I can hire a house. We’ll have a place to be together, where we can do away with the sham of “Mr Smith” and “Duchess”, and be the lovers we were meant to be. I’ve known it must happen, somehow, since that first summer—haven’t you? Oh, Davie, please say “yes”. All I’ve ever known of passion is to be taken by a man who just wanted to breed sons on me. Won’t you give me the joy of being loved by a man who truly cares for and desires me?’

  His friend. His lover. He’d known it all along, but hearing what she said—or rather, what she didn’t say, cut deeper than he’d imagined possible. She’d take him as a lover, but he wasn’t good enough to be a husband.

  Ruthlessly he squelched the anguish and made himself focus on reality. ‘There’s nothing I desire more, but you must realise, my darling, that eliminating Lord Randall doesn’t make our situation that much safer. He’s not the only peer who might find a relationship between a commoner and a duchess with minor children objectionable enough to bring it to the attention of their trustees. And this time, it could be someone more reputable, more credible than Lord Randall.’

  She waved a hand dismissively. ‘With all the affairs going on among
st members of the ton? I doubt any would care enough to make a point of it. Would you deny us a chance for happiness over so unlikely an event?’

  ‘Happy, yes—but for how long? A week? A month? Before someone found out, and society started to point fingers? Because it would get out, you know that. We’d have to end it, and it would end badly. With you disgraced. Possibly even threatened again with losing control over your sons. And what if you were to conceive? Forcing you to hide away somewhere to give birth in secret, and then give up the child. My child. How could I bear for you to give me a son neither of us could ever acknowledge?’

  He waited, still unable to relinquish the slender hope that she might suggest the one way they could prevent that from happening. When instead, she drooped against him, crestfallen, he reined in the urge to ask for her hand.

  Eliminating Lord Randall hadn’t changed any of the hard facts about their relative positions. Marrying him would still be a huge step down in the world for her, turning her into an object of derision. Exiling her from association with her class. And quite possibly, resulting in the loss of her sons.

  He couldn’t take advantage of her longing and his desperation to urge her into a union she would almost certainly come to regret. A regret that would cripple him with remorse for persuading her into it. A regret that would force him to carry for the rest of his life the burden of knowing he was not considered “good enough”.

  He’d worked too hard for too many years to remove that taint.

  The heat of passion drained away, replaced by an anguish that cut inside like two opposing hussars with blades clashing. ‘I won’t be the means of diminishing you.’

  Two tears slid silently down her cheeks as she stared up at him. ‘Then, you’ll offer me...nothing? Nothing to live for, to look forward to? Not even a chance for happiness, however fleeting?’

  Anger, hurt, desire and the sense of impending loss churned inside him. Much as his body urged him to accept, to salvage something rather than nothing, he knew that having her and giving her up again would destroy him. ‘I won’t be your “temporary diversion”, Faith,’ he said, unable to keep the bitterness from his voice. ‘Such an affair would be an affront to my honour, as well as yours.’

  Uttering a curse so vile it startled him, Faith stamped her foot. ‘Honour! How often men dredge up that word to provide noble camouflage for refusing to do—or not do—what they want? With the immorality so rampant in the world, you’d object to our having an affair? Using “honour” as your excuse for denying two people who care for one another any chance to be happy? Oh, Davie, of all times for you to revert to your...your bourgeois principles!’

  Frustration and rage won out over the hurt and despair. ‘Yes, I am bourgeois,’ he shot back. ‘I still care about things like decency and loyalty and honour. I’m sorry that failing displeases you.’

  Knowing he couldn’t bear any more, he turned and stalked away.

  But instead of giving him the space he needed to mourn and lick his wounds, she ran after him. ‘Please, Davie, don’t go! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!’

  She caught up and grabbed his sleeve, forcing him to halt. ‘You’d think by now, I’d be used to humiliation, but having you refuse me, deny what I wanted so desperately—I just...lashed out. I won’t importune you, or throw myself at you again. Please, promise me you’ll remain my friend. I...I don’t think I can go on, else.’

  Furious, agonised, he stood, refusing to look at her, battling against the raging desire to throw honour and conscience to the winds and accept her offer. Even now, he could envision the rendezvous, a snug little house where Faith waited for him, clad only in a wrapper. Opening her arms to him when he walked in and picked her up, laid her on the bed where he would cherish every inch of her with kisses and caresses, finally claiming the body of the woman he’d loved for so long.

  Better to shrug off her hand and keep walking, then accept “friendship” with its twin burdens of temptation and heartache.

  She reached up to angle his face towards hers. ‘Please, Davie,’ she whispered.

  But when he looked down at her, those tear-filled eyes, the misery on that dearly beloved face, he was as lost as the first time he’d set eyes on her.

  With a deep sigh, he cupped her face in his hands. ‘Never doubt that you are the most lovely, desirable creature on the face of the earth. That it tests my willpower to its utmost limit every time I am alone with you—yearning for what must not be. If there were any justice in the world, you would have been married to a man who appreciated how beautiful you are, inside and out. Yes, I’ll remain your friend. But I cannot be more than that, so please, don’t tempt me any further. If I broke the vow I made to protect you, I would end up hating us both.’

  She kept nodding her head up and down as he spoke. ‘Yes, yes, anything. Whatever you want. Just...promise you’ll never a-abandon me?’ she asked, her voice breaking again at the end.

  His heart turning over, he held out his arms and she rushed into them, clinging to him, burying her head in his coat. Her slender body trembled, and he knew she was silently weeping.

  Damned if he did, and damned if he didn’t, he thought despairingly, loving the feel of her in his arms, hating that he was the source of her sorrow. Heartbreak was written all over this agreement, but he didn’t know what else he could do.

  Spurning her when she needed him was unthinkable.

  At length, she pushed back, giving him a watery smile. ‘I know I should have more resources on my own, and I shall do better, I promise. Just now I was at a...rather low ebb.’

  He offered his arm and she took it. ‘We shall just have to go about rising the tide.’

  ‘As long as our boats travel together—even if we can’t travel in the same one.’

  ‘You must start by doing me that favour I mentioned. As you know, the vote on the Reform Bill should take place any day now, and it’s certain to pass the Commons. We’ll all of us be occupied then, rallying support for a swift passage in the Lords, so I’m likely to be tied up for the next several weeks. We know Randall has left England, but just to be safe, would you pay an extended visit to Lady Englemere? Rebuild your intimacy with your sister and her family, so you will feel comfortable calling on them in future, should the need arise. Tell the Dowager you want to give your sister a break from the sickroom and spend time with your recovering niece, while you let the cousins become further acquainted. I imagine you want to do all that anyway.’

  She nodded. ‘It would certainly be nice to be out of the house, once the Dowager starts to worry over Randall’s absence. Like you, I don’t believe he’ll bother to contact her until he is out of funds.’

  ‘With Aphrodite’s help, he has a healthy stake with which to begin life in Calais.’

  She shook her head, her expression wry. ‘I ought to repay you that, at least.’

  ‘Absolutely not. The blunt means nothing; all I truly regret losing was the opportunity to go a few bare-knuckle rounds with him before he was sent on his way.’

  ‘A few rounds?’ She stopped walking and took one of his large hands in her small one. ‘Randall wouldn’t have lasted more than a minute against this.’ She raised his hand to her face, rubbing her cheek against it before kissing his knuckles. ‘Dearest Davie, can you even imagine how safe you make me feel? How much I treasure you?’

  With everything in him, he wanted to pull her back into his arms and hold her for ever. Resisting the urge to embrace her one last time, he took her arm instead and resumed walking.

  At least, she felt safe—and treasured him. It wasn’t nearly what he wanted, but it was something. It would have to be enough.

  As they reached the entrance of the maze, Faith halted again, turning to gaze back over her shoulder. ‘I will dream of this, and imagine you gave me a different answer,’ she said softly.

  ‘I can’t contro
l your dreams.’ Or his own, he thought.

  Would he curse himself later, for letting high principle squander a priceless opportunity? Faith would keep her word, he knew. She’d not invite him into her arms and her bed again.

  Honour wasn’t honour if you invoked it only when it was easy or convenient, he told himself.

  Repeat that homily in the chill of your lonely bed, his outraged body replied.

  Chapter Fourteen

  After attending the entertainment the Dowager wished them to grace with their presence that evening, as their carriage carried them back to the Berkeley Square town house, Faith realised for the first time in several weeks, she was returning home without a sense of dread.

  She descended from the coach in a state almost of euphoria, feeling as if an enormous burden had been lifted from her shoulders. She could go to the nursery and read to her boys, or retreat to her chamber and read to herself, even tiptoe into the library later in her robe and night rail to pour herself a glass of wine, without fear of encountering Lord Randall’s insinuating voice or groping hands.

  Or his threats against her and her children.

  Bless you, Davie, she mouthed silently as she ascended the stairs.

  Though they were probably asleep by now, she’d celebrate by running up to the nursery to see if the boys were awake, sharing her joy with them—and inform them that, faithful to the promise she’d made Davie, they would soon have a prolonged visit with their cousins—the possessors of those oh-so-desirable dogs, horses and trees. Smiling, she was about to continue up the stairs to the nursery when the Dowager’s voice recalled her.

  ‘My dear Faith, you’ll sit with me in the salon, won’t you? I’ve been so worried about Randall. He’s not been home in days, nor have we seen him anywhere when we’ve gone out in society. I was almost certain he’d be at the Blanchards’ tonight, as they are our most particular friends.’

  With true nobility, she refrained from pointing out that it was not at all unusual for Lord Randall to disappear until his funds were exhausted, nor, while he was flush in the pocket, did they ever see him at respectable ton gatherings.