Wish Upon a Duke

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Wish Upon a Duke Page 12

by Jamie Salisbury


  She walked around to another side, the one facing south. The scenery was slightly different, lush green everywhere. The top of the castle was visible from this vantage point. “I can see why your ancestors built the tower here. You can see anyone approaching the castle.”

  He nodded, amazed by her grasp of the situation. Most woman wouldn’t figure it out. “Yes, especially anyone approaching from London. You can see from all vantage points, but London would always have been where most came from, whether invited or not.”

  “It just sits unused now? Pity.”

  “I believe my parents and possibly grandparents used the tower. My mother and father used to take a meal up here in the summer, and my mother would sometimes come and read.”

  “I can see her attraction to the place. Has anyone ever lived here?”

  “Yes, there have been what I suppose you’d call keepers. There’s a small sitting area and kitchen with a separate place to sleep.”

  She smoothed her already smooth skirts and gazed at him through the sunlight. “Thank you for showing it to me.”

  He neared. “You’re welcome. It’s one of my favorite spots on the entire estate.”

  “I can see why,” she replied breathlessly.

  He closed the gap between them. He inhaled her scent of oranges and vanilla. At that moment, he thought it was the most intoxicating smell. She was so close, he could see the vein on her long, fine neck pulsing. Was she nervous? She didn’t appear to be, but he knew she could keep her feelings bottled up inside for no one to see. He tucked his hand under her chin and bent his head.

  And then he kissed her.

  To his relief, she didn’t pull back in shock. Instead, she stood there quietly, allowing him to take the lead. Her lips tasted of honey and tea as he ran his tongue along them. The urge for more consumed him as he parted her lips with his tongue. She opened to him, their kiss becoming more passionate and needy. Her arms wrapped around his neck, her fingers running through his hair.

  Reluctantly, he broke the kiss, his breathing ragged. His cock was hard with need. The one thing he swore he’d never do was happening, and he didn’t want it to end. He stared down at her, her lips swollen from his kiss. How long had it been since she’d kissed a man? Was he the first since her husband died?

  Cupping her chin with his hand, he kissed her again. Again, she opened and responded to him. What started out as a simple kiss was now greedy and passionate. He wanted her like no other. Certainly, he’d kissed many a woman, but none of them aroused him the way Savannah did. He wanted to make love to her and claim her for his own.

  “We must stop,” he growled as he tore himself away.

  “You brought me here to take advantage of me, Your Grace?”

  “No, not at all. I’ve dreamt of kissing you. I merely got caught up in the moment. Forgive me.”

  She nodded, one hand absentmindedly touching her hair. “There is nothing to forgive. It was as much my fault as it was yours, Your Grace.”

  “Gabriel. I asked you to call me Gabriel.”

  “Very well, Gabriel.” She smiled. “What do we do now?”

  “What do you want to do? We can either pretend that kiss never happened, or we can pursue our feelings.”

  The color rose in her cheeks. He wondered if they would flush when he finally bedded her. There was no doubt in his mind he was going to bed her and make her his, but then what?

  “There is no way we can undo that kiss. I wouldn’t want to, but there are others we have to think of.”

  “Vincent, yes. I understand.” He smiled. “As far as Lady Dorset, I don’t care what she thinks.”

  “She’s still my mother-in-law.”

  “True, but she surely can’t expect you to live out your days alone and unloved.”

  “I have Vincent,” she whispered.

  “Yes, and he always will love you. You must face the fact his life will be changing in the next few years. He will go off to school. Eventually university. He’ll marry, have children of his own.”

  “But he’ll always love me.”

  He ran his fingers along her cheek. “Is that enough? Are you willing to forsake a life of your own?”

  “I would do anything for my son. Anything.”

  “I know.”

  He leaned over and kissed her once again. Savannah sighed as he did. “If we’re going to do this, we must be discreet and go slowly. Can you do that for me?”

  He arched a brow and nipped her lower lip with his teeth. “For you, I can do anything. I would move heaven and earth if it meant having you by my side.”

  She wanted him to kiss her. She wanted more. Her body ached for his touch, his kisses, for he was a most talented kisser. She imagined what sort of lover he’d be. Not that she had much experience. Roland had been her first and only, and he was attentive, but to him, it was a matter of marital duty. Once they married and he’d bedded her, he was like most husbands. He came to her for one thing and one thing only. Sex. She often wondered if he kept a mistress, given all the late nights he spent out. He’d always told her it was for business.

  If she allowed this to go on, would Gabriel be the same way? Was he one of those men? She couldn’t think of that. She needed to savor every moment with him and see where this all led.

  Gabriel did have one distinct advantage over others, if there were to be others: he already had a genuine interest and fondness for Vincent, and her son adored Gabriel.

  They were still standing on the roof, Gabriel’s arms around her, when suddenly, he loosened his embrace.

  “We need to head back.” He pointed to a bank of dark clouds off on the horizon. “You see those? They’ll be here before you know it and bring the rain.”

  He didn’t say another word, just took her hand and led her down the stairs. It was cool and damp inside. The sun wasn’t out to warm the tower.

  As Gabriel was getting the horses, Savannah looked around the small rooms. It was certainly cramped, but one person, possibly two, could get by in here.

  Hearing the sound of horses outside the door, she walked over and opened the door and was met by Gabriel, knowing from his heated gaze what was running through his mind. Would they even be compatible? It was easy to say they were this early on.

  She had to make the right decision, and to do that, she needed time. Standing this close to him made her body scream with desire. Would she feel that once she was back at Sky View? Or would she go with the feeling he was a cad and would just use her? That she would simply be another in a long line of women who, like she, entered into a relationship with Gabriel only to be hurt and burned. If he hurt her, Savannah had no doubt she would be devastated beyond words.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Savannah had just sat down with her needlework. The day was gray and rainy, just as Gabriel had predicted. Savannah sat in a chair near the long windows, sorting her threads, looking for a particular shade of green when the dowager countess entered the drawing room.

  Lady Dorset placed her needlework basket next to her feet as she sat in a matching chair near Savannah. The older woman had not said anything about her outing with Gabriel the afternoon before. That was uncharacteristic of the dowager countess, as Savannah had learned. The woman always had something to say, even if her opinion was not required.

  “You’re spending a great amount of time with the duke.”

  “He’s been most gracious showing me around the estate,” she replied. She separated a green thread and placed the others back in the basket at her feet.

  “I don’t think you should pursue this silly notion you seem to have.”

  Savannah arched a brow and set the thread down. “And what silly notion would that be?”

  “The idea you seem to have about landing the duke as your husband. I can assure you, my dear, you are not duchess material.”

  “I have no such intentions. As he is Vincent’s mentor, it is in our best interests that the two of us bond through some sort of friendship.”

&n
bsp; “No man can be just friends with a woman. It simply isn’t done.”

  “I disagree.” She picked up the needle she’d just threaded and began working. She needed some sort of distraction or she might say something she’d regret.

  “Be that as it may, my dear. You don’t need to be spending so much time with the duke.”

  “And if he invites me?”

  “You’ll decline, of course.”

  Savannah punched the needle through the fabric. “I’ll do no such thing.”

  “You can and you will. The duke will never lower himself to court a commoner. And the less often the ton are reminded that Vincent’s mother is an American, the better it will be for him.”

  Savannah threw her needlework into the basket. She could no longer bear to be in the same room as this horrid woman. She stormed out of the room, startling the footman standing on the other side of the door.

  As she left, she thought she heard the dowager countess laughing.

  She needed to do something with her mother-in-law. Former mother-in-law. While it was to her advantage to have the older woman residing in the manor house, it was all she could do to stand the woman’s presence. Why didn’t the dowager countess live in the dower house? She’d seen it from afar and had wondered why Lady Dorset didn’t opt for a place of her own. Same as in London. Lady Dorset had a place of her own, but preferred what had been her son’s. Lady Dorset was not one to give things up, at least not easily.

  Savannah sat on the window seat in her small sitting room and stared out at the rain. It was pelting down against the windows, showing no signs of letting up. What was it about dark days like this that brought out the worst in people? At least it seemed that way today.

  Discretion was needed in this situation. She needed to tread lightly. The countess would expect her to go directly to the duke and confide in him. What she would do instead would be to sit back and let the situation unfold. The countess would no doubt send him a missive outlining their disagreement, and she’d want him to hear it from her first. Let her. She would be playing right into Savannah’s hands.

  * * *

  Gabriel sat back in the chair behind his desk and raised his feet. He disliked days such as these, dark and rainy, especially in the middle of summer. He’d finished going over the estate ledgers and noted there were only so many ways one could study the numbers. He shut his eyes and recalled the time he’d spent with Savannah.

  She was a difficult woman to get to know. She kept her innermost thoughts to herself some of the time, but other times, she thought nothing more than to speak her mind. He tried to imagine her as a young wife in America. How had she and her late husband lived? She had never revealed much about what sort of husband his old friend was. Savannah had skirted the issue, telling him what she thought he wanted to hear.

  Their conversation in the tower had been quite productive, or at least he thought it had. She was willing to see where a relationship might go so long as he didn’t push the issue. His answer was yes, and he meant it. He’d move heaven and earth for this woman.

  As much as he wanted to bed her, he would take as much time as she needed. The idea was strange to him. As a bachelor, women never were a problem. They threw themselves at his feet, and he could always find a willing partner for bed sports.

  He stared down at a letter from his sister, Frannie, who lived in Cambridge with her husband, George, and two small girls, Vicki and Joan. He hadn’t seen her in months, not since he’d made the journey to Cambridge.

  Under Frannie’s letter was one from Parr. The two of them were going to invest in two new ships, one that would make voyages to the Caribbean, while the other would go back and forth to America, and either he or Parr needed to make the long voyage to tie up ends on that side of the Atlantic. Parr had volunteered and was prepared to go as soon as loose ends were tied up.

  Of the two ships, one was still at the shipyard in Southampton where final fittings were being made. The other sat in dry dock for a thorough maintenance. The latter had been negotiated during the purchase.

  Parr would set sail for New York on the third ship they owned. While there, he would take care of the necessary paperwork. Though they had a reliable man on the ground there, Parr wanted to make sure everything was ready for when the ships docked in New York.

  As soon as Parr finished in New York, he would make his way to Charleston or Savannah to inquire about procuring cotton, which was highly sought after.

  He smiled. He realized once again how little he knew of her upbringing and childhood. It was not a matter she shared. Perhaps in time.

  He picked up the letter from Parr, broke the seal, and read the words. He’d hired a former Bow Street runner to search for this mysterious man looking so much like Roland Dawson. Though he and Parr were convinced it wasn’t their old friend come back from the dead, they both wanted to put Savannah’s mind at ease.

  Parr also indicated he would be arriving in a fortnight to discuss his upcoming trip to America and to do some hunting on Gabriel’s estate. He welcomed his friend’s visit. As usual during the summer months, visitors were plenty, which meant he would need to be a hospitable host and would have to inform his housekeeper of the additional guests. Mrs. White always went out of her way to make sure his guests were comfortable and had everything they needed.

  Swinging his legs off the desk, he searched for a fresh sheet of paper. He wrote a missive to his sister telling her he’d love for her and her family to come visit and that he awaited her word on when they would arrive. His next was to Parr telling him he was awaiting his arrival.

  He rang for the butler, who promptly entered the study. Sometimes Gabriel swore the man hovered outside wherever he was to see to his needs. Simmons was far too efficient, not to mention dedicated.

  “See that these are disbursed today.”

  “Yes, Your Grace.” Simmons held out a silver tray. “This just came for you and does not require a reply, Your Grace.”

  Gabriel took the missive and dismissed Simmons. “Thank you.”

  He waited until the door closed before reading the note. A feminine fragrance permeated his senses. The writing appeared to be that of a woman, but not one he recognized. Carefully, he opened the paper and read the words.

  It was from Savannah. She wanted to meet with him privately and, if the weather cleared, would meet him at the tower the following afternoon. She gave a time. Nothing else except that. He would have offered to come for her, but she had been insistent in her letter that they arrive separately.

  He wondered why the mystery. What was going on that she needed to meet him alone? She was a widow, so she could do more than an unmarried woman might. The mystery intrigued him. He’d have to wait to find out until tomorrow, as sending a reply would be foolish. It was obvious she wanted no one to know of their meeting.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Savannah waited nervously on her horse outside the tower. She hated being so clandestine about meeting Gabriel, but after her conversation with the dowager countess, she felt she was left with no choice. She needed answers to some of the claims Lady Dorset had made. She needed to hear it straight from Gabriel.

  Certainly, she had never expected he would mentor Vincent for nothing. It was the tone and insinuations made by the countess that gave her pause. She also thought Gabriel should be made aware of Lady Dorset’s demand that she shouldn’t be spending so much time with him. Not that it was any of her business, but she knew the woman could make life miserable for her. Lady Dorset thought highly of Gabriel, and Savannah had no doubt the older woman would listen to him.

  She thought warmly of Gabriel. The two of them had danced around any hint of a personal relationship between them. She was attracted to him, and for the first time found herself wanting more of him. She knew he felt the same by the way he stared at her with those emerald eyes. Eyes that longed for more than a simple afternoon of polite conversation. Certainly, as a widow, she could have an affair with Gabriel, but she w
anted more. She wanted to share his bed and wake alongside him. She wanted to share their life together. Did she dare hope for that?

  The day was perfect compared to the dark and rainy day experienced yesterday. Today the sun was out, and the sky was an amazing shade of blue with the occasional puffy white cloud floating by.

  The bay gelding was restless, so she walked him around the tower as she waited on Gabriel. She had left the house and gone to the stables to have a horse saddled. The stable master was not happy when she insisted she didn’t need someone to ride with her. He felt she didn’t know the estate well enough to venture off on her own. Savannah was suspicious of the idea of one of the stable boys riding with her, afraid they would report back to the countess.

  Which was why she had ridden off in the opposite direction of Brook Fall. After she was out of sight of the house and the stables, she doubled back on a trail and headed toward the tower.

  Savannah waited nervously on her horse outside the tower when she heard the sounds of another approaching. She held her breath, hoping against hope it was Gabriel. A moment later, he appeared. She urged her horse toward his.

  “Were you afraid I might not come?” he asked as he swung down off his stallion.

  “No, though the thought had crossed my mind that someone might have intercepted my missive.”

  He arched a brow. “Why would someone do that?”

  “Help me down from my horse, and I’ll tell you what’s going on.”

  He walked over and put his hands on her waist, then set her down on the ground. “Your missive said nothing, though I sensed urgency to it. Has something happened?”

  “Walk with me,” she said. As they walked along a pathway, she told him about her conversation with Lady Dorset. She found herself telling him everything. She wanted the truth, and if they didn’t start being honest with each other now, there was no way they could forge a relationship.

  He stopped and faced her. “Yes, it’s true. All of it. You do know the dowager has no authority over the earldom’s money. I didn’t know about you except through what little Roland told me in the few letters he sent to me from America.”

 

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