A Duke to Die for: The Rogues' Dynasty (23 page)

Henrietta brushed the white dog hair from her pelisse and gloves while the little dog downed the food in a matter of seconds. Lord Waldo seemed not to notice or, if he did, he didn’t care that she had fed the terrier her food.

Tulip sniffed around their picnic area for less than a minute and then perched herself right back on Henrietta’s lap. She wagged her tail and barked happily. Henrietta couldn’t deny little Tooley her affection when she looked so intently at her with those dark, bright eyes.

“I do say, I think the new blossoms are making you sneeze a lot. Do you always sneeze so much when you are outside?”

“No, never, I mean yes, sometimes, when everything is in bloom.” She couldn’t very well blame her sneezing and watery eyes on the dog now, since she didn’t speak up and say anything right from the beginning.

“I think Tulip is as enchanted with you as I am. She hasn’t left your lap all afternoon.”

“I believe she likes to be held.”

“My brother has spoiled her. When he is at home, Rockcliffe walks around holding Tooley all the time.”

“Mmm,” she said, growing very tired of hearing about Lord Waldo’s brother.

Lord Waldo wiped the crumbs from his lips and put the remnants of food back into the basket. While doing so, he maneuvered himself so that he was suddenly sitting very close to her. Henrietta knew his intentions. He was going to kiss her. She didn’t want him to, yet she did. She had to know if any other man could elicit the passion in her and make her feel the way Blakewell made her feel.

She watched as his face slowly descended toward hers. She had plenty of time to stop him or turn her cheek to him, but she remained still and allowed his lips to lightly brush against hers. Nothing happened. There was no feeling other than awkwardness. She smiled to herself, and without warning she sneezed, making Lord Waldo jump and the dog bark.

“I’m sorry, Lord Waldo, but perhaps we should cut our outing short and return to the house. I don’t think my sneezing and watery eyes are going to get any better this afternoon.”

A pink blush stained Lord Waldo’s cheeks, and he blinked rapidly. “I think you’re right. Perhaps we should try it another afternoon. I can see your eyes are starting to swell. Tooley will miss her walk in the park, but she’ll understand. I think we should leave.”

Henrietta’s symptoms continued all the way home, but she was actually growing quite fond of the little dog. When they arrived at the town house, she gave Tulip a last rub on her head and placed her in the cushioned crate. Lord Waldo helped Henrietta down from the carriage and walked her to the door.

She sniffed. “Thank you for a pleasant afternoon, Lord Waldo. I’m sorry we had to cut the day short.”

“I think it was for the best,” he said, opening the door for them to step inside. “You’re not looking so well. I wish the day hadn’t been quite so in bloom.”

“Henrietta, you’re home,” Blakewell called to her from the top of the stairs.

She turned toward him and smiled. It thrilled her just to see him.

He hurried down the stairs and as he stepped off the last step, his eyes widened. “Bloody hell, what happened to you? You’ve been crying.”

“No,” she whispered.

Rage flashed across his face. He turned to Lord Waldo. “What have you done to her?”

Lord Waldo blinked rapidly as one eye twitched.

“Done, I—I? Nothing!”

“Don’t tell me ‘nothing,’ I can look at her and tell she’s been crying.”

“No, Your Grace,” Henrietta tried to calm him, but he brushed right past her and advanced on Lord Waldo.

“Please, Your Grace, I haven’t touched her.” Lord Waldo backed against the doorframe, hitting his head.

The duke advanced on him. “You expect me to believe that when her eyes are swollen and her nose red?”

Lord Waldo trembled, his eyes twitched in fear as he nervously wet his lips with his tongue.

Henrietta tried again. “Stop this, Your Grace. You are being an ogre; listen to me. Lord Waldo was a perfect gentleman and did nothing to me.”

The frightened man nodded.

“What is happening in here?” Constance said, rushing into the vestibule. “Why are your voices raised? Henrietta, have you been crying?”

“No, of course not. I’ve been rubbing my eyes.”

“It must be the shrubs or flowers in bloom, Mrs. Pepperfield, Your Grace. She’s been sneezing almost since we left the house. That’s why we returned so early. We’ve hardly been gone an hour.”

Blakewell backed away from Lord Waldo. He glanced from Henrietta to Constance to Lord Waldo again. In a much calmer voice, he said, “Perhaps it’s time you said your good-byes.”

“Yes, Your Grace; good-bye, Miss Tweed. Thank you for a lovely afternoon. Mrs. Pepperfield, it’s always nice to see you.” He bowed to Blakewell. “Your Grace.”

When the door closed behind Lord Waldo, the duke turned to Constance and asked, “Has she ever shown this reaction when she was out with you in a carriage?”

“No.”

He turned to Henrietta. “Now tell me the truth.”

She sneezed into her handkerchief. “The truth is that I’ve had this kind of reaction to dogs and cats since I was a little girl. Lord Waldo brought his brother’s West Highland terrier with him, and I’m afraid I let the dog get too close to me.”

“I’ve heard of people having similar reactions to dogs and cats, though I’ve never personally known anyone,” Constance said.

“Me either,” Blakewell said.

“It’s my fault. I should have told Lord Waldo I needed to keep my distance, but Tooley was so loving. I thought perhaps because she was small, I would be all right.” Henrietta peeled off her gloves, unbuttoned her pelisse, and shrugged out of it. “I won’t be able to wear these again until they are cleaned.”

“I think the rubbish heap is the best place for those,” Blakewell said, taking them from her. “Constance, I don’t think she should go out tonight.”

“Oh, I agree,” Constance said with a horrified expression on her face. “Looking as she does? Absolutely not. It would be the kiss of death to go out in public.” She turned to Henrietta. “Have your maid bring you cool, wet cloths to cover your eyes, Henrietta. Hopefully the swelling will be gone by tomorrow.”

“I know it will all go away now that I’m not around Tooley. It was foolish of me not to speak up.”

“We’re all foolish from time to time, Henrietta,” Blakewell said. “I’ll discard these while you say goodbye to Constance.”

The duke’s eyes were still dark and stormy, but his expression of rage had relaxed.

“Wait for me in my book room, Henrietta, after you say good-bye to Constance.”

Henrietta and Constance watched Blakewell walk down the corridor carrying her gloves and pelisse.

When he was out of sight, Constance turned to Henrietta and said, “I’ve never seen a man so eaten with jealousy.”

Shocked by the comment, Henrietta whipped around to face Constance. “His Grace? What do you mean by that?”

Constance took a deep breath. “I mean he’s fallen for you, Henrietta, though I’m not sure he is ready to admit that to himself, or to you.”

Henrietta’s stomach did a flip.

Could that be true?

Eighteen

Dearest Lucien, my grandson who hasn’t been to see me in
weeks,

As I have told you many times, Lord Chesterfield was the
wisest gentleman I ever had the pleasure of knowing. This is
one of my favorite quotes from him about women: “Women
are not so much taken by beauty as men are, but prefer those
men who show them the most attention.”

How does he know us so well?

Your loving Grandmother,

Lady Elder

BLAKE FOUND HENRIETTA IN THE VESTIBULE, CLOSING the door behind Constance, when he came back from throwing out her clothing. Her nose was still a little red from sneezing, but fortunately the swelling was leaving her eyes. He had wanted to strangle Lord Waldo when he thought he had accosted Henrietta and made her cry.

He took hold of Henrietta’s hand and said, “Come with me.”

Blake led her into the book room, closed the door, and leaned against it. Henrietta stopped in the center of the room and faced him.

As he stared at her, he realized Morgan and Race had been right. Blake had been brooding. For days. He might not be cursed because of Henrietta, but he was definitely bewitched by her. She consumed his thoughts and his dreams. Could what he was feeling for her be love?

Damnation. He certainly hadn’t planned on that happening to him. Ever.

Not only had he not slept well last night for thinking about her upcoming outing with Lord Waldo, but he had left the house early that morning and gone riding to avoid seeing them together. Blake hadn’t wanted to be around when Lord Waldo came for her. Now, he was glad he hadn’t been. He never would have let her leave with that sap.

“Tell me that, after today, you are no longer seriously considering Lord Waldo for a husband.”

She looked surprised for a few seconds, but her self-confidence quickly took hold. “I have not yet made that determination, Your Grace. Lord Waldo has many admirable qualities to recommend him.”

Admirable qualities? Waldo?

“And what are they, Henrietta, for I have never seen an example of them, nor have I heard anyone express awareness of these admirable qualities you see in him. That is, other than your belief that he is malleable. I don’t consider that a very high mark for a man.”

She remained resolute. “He is considerate, kind, and easy to talk to, Your Grace.”

“Ah, easy to talk to, I see. I guess that could be considered an admirable quality. During times when he is so easy to talk to, I don’t suppose he ever mentions his brother, does he?”

Her shoulders and chin lifted ever so slightly, and Blake smiled. He loved watching her fight her way out when he backed her into a corner.

“He is very loyal to his brother, and to me loyalty is clearly another admirable quality.”

Blake pushed away from the door and strode over to a washstand that stood in the far corner. He poured water from a pitcher into a basin, and then dipped a small cloth into it. After he had wrung most of the water out of the cloth, he walked over to Henrietta and said, “Close your eyes.”

She acquiesced, and he tenderly pressed the wet cloth over her eyes.

“How does that feel?”

She breathed deeply. “Soothing.”

“Good. The cool cloth should help the rest of the swelling in your eyes to go down and make you feel better.”

She reached up and took hold of the cloth and said, “Thank you.”

“All right, I’ll give Lord Waldo one point. Loyalty is a good trait, and he has plenty of that for Rockcliffe.”

Henrietta placed the cloth over one eye and stared at the duke with the other. “I don’t know why you are taking me to task about him, Your Grace. We are both eager for me to marry, so you can be rid of the responsibility for me. If Lord Waldo should be interested in considering me for his wife, then I would mull over that opportunity carefully.”

Blake’s chest tightened. He watched her expression closely. She seemed serious, confident. But she was lacking emotion. He was convinced she didn’t fancy the man, so why would she consider marrying him?

“I am not eager for you to marry the wrong man or the first man to ask you. Lord Waldo is a weakling, and you know that.”

She placed the cloth over her other eye. “I know of no such thing. He is a man who will provide well for me and not demand much from me in return.”

Lifting a skeptical brow, Blake moved closer to her. “Henrietta.” He said her name huskily, seductively. “Now we are getting somewhere.”

She stepped away from him and dipped the cloth in the cool water again. “Perhaps he’s not as strong as you, as most men are not, but he’s a capable man and, with the right direction, he can grow stronger.”

Blake followed her. “Ah, I see. You think you can lead him as his brother does now, don’t you?”

She squeezed the cloth and didn’t answer him. She didn’t have to. He knew the answer.

The room slowly darkened as late afternoon shadows covered the room. Soft lamplight danced on her rumpled hair and slithered across her lovely face. The wet cloth had made her eyes look much better, and the redness had faded from her nose. Everything about her was tempting him to pull her into his arms and make her his. Forever.

“You don’t love him,” Blake finally said.

Holding the cloth over one eye, she said, “I don’t know why we are talking about this, Your Grace. Lord Waldo has not asked me to marry him, but if he should, you didn’t say I had to love the man I married.”

He cocked his head and said, “I didn’t know I had to. You must see him as a spineless ninny that you can control.”

She dropped her hand to her side and huffed indignantly. “You go too far, Your Grace, to think that I believe such a cruel thing about him.”

“But it’s true, is it not?” He advanced on her yet again. She backed away. “You are interested in him only because you want a husband you can control. You have seen for yourself and heard talk about the way his brother leads him around, and you believe you will be able to do the same.”

Her lips parted in shock. “When you put it like that, it makes me seem very shallow.”

“If the shoe fits, wear it, as Lord Chesterfield was so fond of saying.”

Henrietta’s brows drew together in a frown. “I don’t believe Lord Chesterfield ever said that, Your Grace.”

Blake smiled mischievously. He was enjoying the battle with her. “Perhaps not, but he should have. You are not shallow, Henrietta. Far from it. But there are two things you are missing in your consideration of Lord Waldo.” He took another step toward her. She took another step back and found herself against the wall.

Refusing to cower, she lifted her chin again and said, “I don’t think I am missing anything.”

“Oh, yes you are. One is that the Duke of Rockcliffe will continue to control his brother, no matter who he marries. Rockcliffe will not relinquish that authority, and Lord Waldo will not want him to. He worships his older brother. Neither of them wants their relationship to change, certainly not for a wife. Lord Waldo has been his brother’s pup for too long to change.” He leaned in closer to her and held his gaze steady on her clear, blue eyes. “You will not be able to wrest control of Lord Waldo from his much stronger brother.”

“I disagree. I might be young and not very worldly, but I do know that a woman has certain charms that can persuade her husband to her will, her wishes, and her desires.”

He took the wet cloth from her hands and threw it into the basin, splashing water over the sides of it. Her breaths were shallow and fast. Her chest heaved enticingly. “Ah, yes, your charms are many, Henrietta. Many. And you may be able to do that, for a time, but what of my other reason? I said there were two.”

Her gaze locked onto his. “What is the other?”

He lowered his head, bringing his face very close to hers. He could no longer bear not touching her. He caressed her cheek with his fingertips, letting them slowly trace the outline of her lips. Just touching her face caused his lower stomach to tighten, and a surge of hardness caught between his legs. The pads of his fingers traveled over her chin and down the slender column of her throat to rest in the hollow at the base of her neck where he felt her pulse beating wildly beneath her warm skin.

Blake loved the excitement he felt building inside her.

“Passion,” he said huskily. “I don’t see a lot of passion for anything in Lord Waldo. He reminds me of cold, gray ashes that have not been kindled all summer.”

She grunted. “I care not for passion,” she whispered.

Blake smiled triumphantly. He placed one hand against the wall near her shoulder and leaned in so close that their noses almost touched. “You care not for passion?”

She nodded.

He put his other hand on the wall beside her, boxing her inside his arms.

Henrietta flattened against the wall. Her eyes seemed to spit fire at him, and he welcomed it.

“Henrietta, that is a statement that I cannot let go unchallenged.”

He bent his head and kissed both corners of her mouth, each cheek, and first one damp eyelid and then the other. She remained still except for the rapid rise and fall of her chest.

“So,” he whispered, “if Waldo never kisses you like this, you will never miss it?” His lips glided across her cheek, over her chin, and to the soft, sweet skin behind her ear. He breathed in deeply her womanly scent.

Hot throbbing desire for her seared him. Without letting his lips leave her skin, he moved back up to her lips and tempted her with short, sweet kisses that moved agonizingly slowly over her mouth.

“If he never kisses you like this, you will never dream of it again?”

She shook her head. “I will not miss it,” she whispered past a soft, gulping breath.

He smiled to himself. Let her deny the truth. The way her body responded to him told him all he needed to know.

He kissed his way down to the softly rising mound of her beautiful breasts beneath her low-cut dress. His tongue came out and tasted her cool, damp skin. Her breaths were quick and shallow.

Blake loved what he was doing to her, and what she was doing to him.

Henrietta moaned softly and arched her back, giving him greater access to her throat and chest. He took full advantage of her offering. His hand slid up her midriff to cup her breast and push it up. His fingers searched for her nipple, hidden beneath the fabric of her dress and undergarments. Through her silky bodice and cotton chemise, he located the tight bud and gently tugged on it, making it tighten. He dipped his head and nipped it with his teeth, making it grow harder under his playful touch.

A tremor shook her body, and she gasped with pleasure, giving him immense satisfaction to know he made her feel so good.

Blake’s loins thickened for her.

“Now tell me you will never long to be touched like this, Henrietta. Tell me and I will believe you,” he whispered as his hand kneaded her breast and his lips found hers once more in a long drugging kiss.

“All right, yes, Your Grace, I will miss it,” she admitted, dragging her lips away from his. “I will miss your touch. I will miss you all the days of my life.” Her arms went around his neck, and her lips found his in a deep, bruising kiss that took his breath. Blake pulled her into his arms and accepted her fierce attack with a deep hunger gnawing at him.

She pleased him, aroused him, and fulfilled him.

His tongue drove deep inside her mouth, and his body pressed hers hard against the wall. His strong arms slid around her back and pulled her up to him as his mouth ravished hers. Her soft breasts pressed against his chest. His lips left hers, and he brought his tongue down the long sweep of her neck, tasting her, devouring her.

She swallowed hard and moaned with pleasure. Her eyes were bright with wonder. “Kiss me, Your Grace. Kiss me, touch me, and fill me.”

That was all the confirmation he needed.

“My sweet, Henrietta, you tempt me beyond my control to deny you.”

Anticipation of her request ran wild inside him. He had no doubts, no fears. She wanted him as much as he wanted her. That gave him immense satisfaction. His desire to take her was frantic. He was desperate for her total surrender to him, and she was willing.

Heat from her eagerness seared him with such wanting. His tongue swept inside her mouth and plundered its depth. Their uneven breaths melted together. This time he had to completely possess and make her his.

With impatient hands, he took hold of her gown and chemise and lifted them up to her waist. His arms slid around to her back, and his fingers fumbled as he untied her drawers and slid them down her legs, helping her kick free of them. He didn’t bother removing her garters or stockings. He would have loved to look at her shapely legs, but there was no time for that.

Quickly, he unbuttoned his breeches and shoved them down to his knees. He placed his hands on her waist and gently pressed her against the wall once again. He then fitted himself against her soft womanhood and pushed inside her with a deep, demanding thrust.

Her gasp was soft and her body went rigid. He quickly covered her lips with his and whispered, “Don’t panic, it will be all right. I promise. Move with me.”