Tempting the Duke Page 8

  Louisa saddled Peppercorn as she normally would, and let the horse lead her in the direction of their regular wanderings. She’d visited the kitchens last night before heading to bed, and she’d managed to snag a few muffins from yesterday’s breakfast which she began munching on now. When they arrived at the line of trees on the edge of the estate, where Peppercorn would normally turn left and head back to the manor, Louisa tugged her horse to the right. In the direction of London.

  Louisa spurred Peppercorn into a gallop and the young woman let a joyful shout escape her mouth. Jonathan Wallbridge wasn’t going to be rid of Louisa Kellynch that easily.

  * * *

  It took her several days of hard riding, and Louisa and Peppercorn were both weary halfway through. Neither had been used to riding this hard, ever. By the time evening had struck the first day, Louisa was sore, exhausted, and in desperate need of a bath. She was also beginning to regret her plan.

  What had possessed her to hurry off to London in pursuit of Jon? And how had Mrs. Cassidy and the other servants reacted when Louisa hadn’t returned from her ride? Were they, even now, in pursuit? She had ridden extra hard all day long, hoping she’d be able to put enough distance between herself and any potential pursuers.

  Or maybe they had read her note, explaining where she was headed, and they would only send a letter to notify the duke. She hoped it was this option. With her head start, she would beat any of the mail carriers to London.

  That first night, Louisa had no trouble securing a room. The innkeeper had only been interested in gold, not in asking questions, for which Louisa was grateful. She practically collapsed on the bed in her room immediately, only rousing herself at the sound of a servant bringing up a tray of food. The crusty bread and cold meat were the only things she’d eaten since her stolen muffins early that morning.

  Louisa forced herself to leave early again the following morning, although she longed to sleep in. She had paid a few coins extra for the innkeeper to pack her a small basket of food for lunch, which she stopped to eat at midday. Louisa was worried about pushing Peppercorn too hard two days in a row, so they didn’t make as good time as they had yesterday. The hot late-summer sun shone unforgivingly on her head. Thankfully, Louisa’s wide bonnet ensured her fair skin didn’t burn, but she still felt the heat emanating into her skull.

  By evening on that second day, she was feeling fairly sure she’d made a mistake in deciding to ride out to London. Maybe Jon had been right after all, and she was nothing more than an impetuous child. She certainly hadn’t thought through her decision very clearly, nor had she realized how far London was from Devonshire. She pulled Peppercorn up in front of another inn that second evening, hoping it would be the last one.

  Unlike the previous night, this innkeeper seemed to have very prim ideas about the kind of establishment he was running, and he was not interested in having an unaccompanied young woman stay in his inn for the night. Louisa could acknowledge to herself that appearances were not in her favor; young women of Louisa’s station in life, especially young unmarried women, did not travel long distances alone, without even a single servant to watch over them. She’d planned ahead for the innkeeper’s resistance, however, and had come up with a backstory beforehand.

  Louisa lied that she was a recent widow, forced by circumstance and poverty upon her husband’s death into becoming a governess to a wealthy family in London. She explained away her lack of luggage by pretending what little of it she had retained for her new station in life had been sent on ahead of her. The innkeeper, bless his heart, was so touched by her story that he not only rented Louisa a room for the night, but he threw in the dinner for free.

  Louisa would have to thank Mrs. Cassidy sometime, she mused while she ate the delicious roasted chicken for her supper. The real governess had been her inspiration, after all.

  The next day flew by in a blur. The scorching hot sun had been covered by clouds, causing Louisa to worry most of the day that they would spill rain upon her head, but she was fortunate. The clouds merely blocked the sun, but they kept their rain to themselves.

  When evening fell again, Louisa decided against stopping again for the night. She was so close to London now, and the thought of spending another night in an inn was not remotely appealing. So she and Peppercorn continued on their way.

  It was only when Louisa was in the city proper, navigating the busy streets—even in the middle of the night, they were filled with carriages and men on horseback, plus crowds of people walking the streets—that doubts returned. What if Jon was so furious at her impropriety, he shipped her straight off to finishing school?

  Well, she would just have to make sure she put him in a good mood, she determined. Put his mind on a different topic entirely.

  Assuming he didn’t already have a woman there. Her stomach flipped over. Although Louisa had never done anything more than kiss, she was under no illusions about Jon’s past experiences with women. But if he had someone there tonight, Louisa wasn’t sure she would be able to maintain her composure.

  She suddenly felt insecure. Perhaps she would have been better off waiting in an inn overnight after all. That way she could have ensured she looked her best. After another day in the saddle, Louisa didn’t look or feel very fresh. Oh well. She’d do whatever primping she could from the back of her horse.

  Before she knew it, Park Lane appeared before her. Her belly a mess of nerves, Louisa squared her shoulders and made her way toward Jon’s residence.

  Chapter 9

  Jon restlessly turned the pages of a book he should have been reading. He’d been trying to read since he’d returned from dinner at the club embarrassingly early, but he’d barely taken in one word in five. He glanced at his pocket watch. Nearly midnight. He might as well try to get some sleep, although he wasn’t optimistic.

  He’d had trouble sleeping the past few nights. Guilt over abandoning Louisa without even a word. He tried to tell himself he was perfectly within his rights to do as he’d done, but the guilt tugged at him all the same.

  That, and more than a little regret. Jon had been having trouble getting his ward’s pretty face out of his mind these last several days, especially the last image of her in his garden at night.

  Louisa’s face tilted up, ready to be kissed. He’d acted for the best, Jon reminded himself yet again.

  It was clear he would be getting no more reading done tonight. Placing the book on his bedside table, Jon began undressing for bed. He’d only removed his shirt and cravat when the pounding sounded on the front door downstairs. Curious, Jon bounded down the staircase, meeting his bleary-eyed manservant in the hall. The man had clearly been roused from mid-sleep.

  “I’ll get the door,” Jon assured him.

  It wasn’t as if he’d been close to sleep anyway. Jon half wondered whether it was his sister Mildred, come to complain about her troubles with her husband again. They wouldn’t need a witness to that.

  “You go back to bed,” he told the servant, who was only too happy to oblige.

  Jon swung the door open, a frown on his face as he prepared himself for whatever Mildred would have to say. But Mildred wasn’t standing there.

  Instead, it took his mind several moments to understand what his eyes were seeing. Had he become so swept up in desire that he was now hallucinating seeing Louisa on his doorstep?

  “Can I come in?” the hallucination asked, all breezy confidence as usual. “I’ve had the longest journey.”

  So it really was Louisa? She strode inside, closing the door behind her as Jon seemed incapable of doing it himself.

  “Your London home is lovely,” she said, spinning around the entrance hall to take it in properly. “I suppose Mildred helped you decorate it?” Jon was still trying to process her presence here and made no response. “Are you going to say anything?” she asked, a little hesitation in her manner now.

  “What are you—? How did you get here?” Jon spluttered, unsure where to start. It was as though hi
s thoughts about her had willed her into existence on his doorstep.

  “I wasn’t going to let you get away from me that easily,” Louisa said in a low voice, stepping closer to him.

  Jon could feel the heat emanating from her body and feel the warmth of her breath on his skin. That voice made him want to do very inappropriate things to her. How did she look so fresh and pretty after having spent god-knows-how-many hours in the saddle, riding here? The only thing amiss was her curls, tumbling down and framing her face, as usual.

  Jon should be furious with her—he was furious—but somehow, he thought his heart was racing now for a very different reason. He remembered randomly that he was still shirtless.

  Louisa seemed to have the same realization, for her gaze lowered, taking in his muscular chest, her eyes widening slightly. She unconsciously bit at her bottom lip as her gaze took in the sight of him hungrily. Jon felt himself instantly begin to harden.

  “Are you mad at me?” she asked Jon, tipping her head up to look at his face with her big eyes.

  “Enraged,” he whispered. His willpower finally crumbling, Jon drew Louisa to him and helplessly lowered his face to meet hers.

  Dear God, those lips were as sweet as he had remembered! Sweeter, even. She returned his touch hungrily. This kiss was fierce and rough, all the months of pent-up desire and frustration pouring out in a single moment.

  Jon couldn’t bring himself to be gentle, and Louisa seemed to be of the same mind. He pushed his tongue into her warm, wet mouth and she met it eagerly. His teeth nibbled her bottom lip for a moment before grazing along her jaw and down to her neck and continuing down to the round tops of her breasts which were exposed by her plunging neckline. There, he allowed himself a few light nips before her sighs drew him irresistibly back to capture her mouth again with his.

  During all this, they had somehow navigated their bodies to the wall, with Louisa pressed up against it while Jon leaned over her, his tall, muscular body caging her in. She tentatively raised her hands and placed them on his broad shoulders, running her fingers in circles along his shoulder blades and spine, up and down his strong arms, and along his chest, stopping only at the trickle of hair on his firm stomach that led into his waistband. His body ached at the thought of those fingers roaming even lower…

  He growled ferally. Unable to control himself any longer, Jon lifted Louisa against the wall, curling her legs around his waist, so she was wrapped around him, and kissing her hungrily once more. Almost of their own accord, his hands reached up to her bodice and expertly undid the top three buttons so he could lower the gown from her shoulders.

  Her breath hitched as he traced his fingers along the top of her corset. She was so soft and warm, it made him think of other places on her body that would be even softer and warmer…

  His brain was muddled and sluggish, but from the back of it, something warned him that he was nearing the land of no return. Jon shook his head, drowning out all thought by lowering his face to Louisa’s once more, but as soon as they broke for breath, the thought came back louder than before. He was acting foolishly and dangerously.

  For heaven’s sake, he was manhandling his ward in the entrance hall, where any of the servants could walk by and see them! Groaning again, but this time from frustration, Jon slowly undid Louisa’s legs from around his waist and lowered her to the floor again. The sight of her, chest flushed and heaving, lips swollen from his kisses, nearly undid him then and there, and he couldn’t resist leaning back in to give her one more gentle kiss.

  Then he turned away from her, embarrassed by his actions and keenly aware of the fully prominent bulge in the front of his trousers.

  “That was badly done of me,” he said hoarsely. “I was taken aback by seeing you here at this time of night, and I reacted unconsciously. You have my apologies.”

  “Don’t apologize,” Louisa said in a breathy voice. She came up behind him and pressed herself against his back. “I liked it,” she said, her warm breath against his bare skin causing him to shiver.

  “Louisa, you are torturing me!” Jon said in agony, as his body twanged again with desire. It took everything in him to not spin around and ravish her against that wall right there, honor or no.

  “Good,” Louisa’s voice sounded wicked from behind him. She leaned forward and licked his shoulder blade. “I’ll see myself upstairs. I’ve never been here before, so we’ll make it a game. If I wind up in an empty bedroom, we’ll both go to sleep separately and meet for breakfast in the morning.”

  Her voice lowered another octave. “But if I wind up in your room, Your Grace, then we’ll have to share a bed and finish this dance we’ve started. And I doubt either of us will be sleeping much in that instance.”

  Jon spun around to face her again. “You are playing a dangerous game, indeed,” he said, his eyes black with desire. “If I find you in my bed tonight, I won’t stop myself from having my way with you, consequences be damned.” Louisa visibly shivered, but she looked intrigued, not scared.

  “I guess we’ll find out,” she said, finally tearing her eyes from his face and walking languorously toward the stairs.

  Jon let her go, although all his instincts told him to chase her, like he was a wild animal and she was his prey. He needed some time to collect himself. He knew he would not be able to resist a second time if he found her in his bed, but as it was, he didn’t know whether he could stop himself from rushing into whatever other room she found herself and continue off where they’d started anyway. And the thing was, he was pretty sure she wouldn’t stop him if he tried.

  Think other thoughts, Jon told himself. Think of her riding here all on her own from Devonshire. Think of her disobeying his direct wishes. Think of her riding on horseback, her long blond hair flying around her face, her gown riding up her creamy legs…

  He groaned and then swore profusely. Jon didn’t believe he would be getting much sleep tonight.

  * * *

  Louisa must not have wandered into Jon’s bedroom because he didn’t disturb her during the night. She had opened the first door she’d found and she hadn’t much thought it would be his. But part of her was regretful that she hadn’t landed in there tonight, because she was certain he would have made good on his— offer? Threat?

  Whatever the case, the space between Louisa’s legs had ached at the words. She fought against the urge to wander the hallway, knocking on doors until she landed on Jon’s room.

  No, she had to be intelligent about this. Strategic. And right now, Louisa had him finally where she wanted him. At long last, she felt like she had the upper hand. There was no way to deny that he desired her now.

  She hadn’t been sure what to expect when she’d knocked on the door, but it hadn’t been to see Jonathan shirtless, his tanned, muscular chest begging her to stretch her fingers out and touch it. The sight had made her bold, and then Jon had kissed her, and everything had felt right for the first time in months.

  Silly, immature thought. She shook her head to rid herself of it, but it was lodged in there. It had felt right to be wrapped in Jonathan’s arms, almost meant to be. And the feel of his mouth on hers…she shivered again, alone in the safety of her new bedroom. She had never felt like that before.

  So maybe Louisa could have the upper hand and be happy. Was it possible she and the duke could actually be happy together? Love each other? She had only wanted to seduce him and regain her former wealth and status. But now that seemed so unimportant. Even Haverton didn’t seem important to her right at this moment. Titles and wealth were the furthest things from her mind right now; all she wanted was to be with him.

  Louisa had to make sure he didn’t retreat or run away again. She couldn’t let his damnable sense of honor get in the way. She tossed and turned several times in a sequence. Morning couldn’t come soon enough.

  She had thought she wouldn’t be able to sleep, but she must have, for Louisa awoke to the sun streaming on her face. Her night had been filled with dreams of Jon, r
ecreating their encounter from last night—but in her dreams, Jon had completed the job.

  Louisa had slept in only her chemise last night since she didn’t have a nightgown. A knock on the door warned her a second before the servant entered. The woman was carrying an empty basin and a pitcher of water. There was also a pink muslin gown trailing over one arm.

  “Good morning, madam,” the servant said respectfully, placing both items on a dresser. “His Grace told us all of how you arrived late last night. I thought you might want to freshen up a little from your time on the road.” She then laid the gown out on the bed. “And this is a spare gown of His Grace’s sister, Mrs. Allen. She left it here a few months ago. I hoped you might be the right size to wear it.”

  “Oh, you’re a saint!” Louisa said, rushing forward with a big smile breaking out. The servant left, looking pleased.

  Louisa quickly splashed her face, then washed under her arms before putting the pink gown on. She was in a hurry to get downstairs before the duke ran off for the day. A last look in the mirror—her lips were still lightly bruised from the night before, and even dressed with her hair properly put up, she looked enticing. This would do.

  To her surprise, Jon was sitting at the breakfast table, seemingly waiting for her to come down.

  “Good morning,” she said, feeling suddenly nervous and awkward. What if he decided to be angry with her after all? What if he regretted everything that had happened last night?

  But he just looked her in the eyes and smiled, though his eyebrows were furrowed as though he were thinking through a puzzle. “Good morning, Louisa.” Even the sound of his voice saying her name made her toes tingle.

  Don’t picture his hands on your waist. Don’t think about his teeth grazing your lips.