My Dark Duke (24 page)

‘No. I could not. I could not get away. I told her to wait for me. That we would go for a ride when I was done. She didn't listen.
Damn it.
Now she is lost.'

Alethea reached up and put her arms around him, tears filling her eyes at the anguish in his voice. He held her tightly and she pressed her lips to his jaw, holding him equally tight.

It was a long time before his hold loosened. He pulled back and looked at her. ‘Would it be too presumptuous on my part to assume that you no longer hate me?' There was a vulnerability in his eyes that she had never seen before, and it made her heart ache.

‘I have never hated you. I could never hate you.' She smiled at him, hoping he could see the truth in her eyes. ‘It seems, Your Grace, that you have the uncanny ability to excite my passions and cause me to occasionally utter great untruths.'

A faint smile appeared, easing the severity of his countenance. ‘There has been little in the way of excitable passions lately. To my everlasting regret.'

The duchess watched, entranced, as her husband brought her hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss to the back of her fingers. ‘Would you do me the honour of having dinner with me this evening?'

Her heart sang with joy. Somehow she knew, deep in her heart, that all would be well now. She gave him a blinding smile. ‘It would be my pleasure, Your Grace.'

His reply sent a thrill of anticipation racing through her. ‘Indeed, it will. And that, my dear wife, is a promise.'

Our Heroine Takes Matters into Her Own Hands

‘Dr Cole!'

Alethea rose to her feet, smiling brightly as the footman led the doctor into the drawing room. He had arrived in time for a cup of tea, welcome indeed after the journey from London.

‘Your Grace.' Cole smiled back shyly after he bowed to her.

‘Please, you must call me Alethea. After all, you have been friends with James for such a long while now.'

‘Well, then, you should call me Cole, that is, if James will allow me to be so familiar.'

‘What is this about being familiar with my wife?' The duke entered the room, eyebrows raised.

‘It's all right, James, Cole can be as familiar with me as he likes. He
is
a doctor, you know.' The duchess gave her husband a mischievous smile when he kissed her cheek in greeting.

‘Well, in that case . . .' intoned James.

Alethea couldn't help but laugh.

‘It's fine,' interjected Cole hastily. ‘I should address Her Grace as such. It is proper, after all.'

‘Oh, for God's sake, don't be such a stick in the mud, Cole. Just as long as you don't begin addressing Alethea as “sweetheart” or any other endearment. Otherwise you will be the one requiring the services of a physician.'

‘Do you see what I've had to put up with all these years?' sighed Cole. The gleam in his eye made Alethea bite her lip to stifle a laugh before he had even uttered his next sentence. ‘I think James believes it is witty to threaten harm, when in truth, he's really a rather poor conversationalist. As I am sure you are well aware of.'

She watched James's eyebrows draw together in a frown, but she was enjoying herself too much to draw a halt to the discussion. ‘Oh, I do agree. But he does make up for it in other . . . arenas.' The pause she affected outlined in no uncertain terms what she was referring to.

Alethea only just stopped her mouth from falling open at the tinge of pink that appeared on the duke's countenance. Good heavens! Surely he couldn't be blushing!

‘Alethea!' he ground out, eyes flashing. ‘You appear to have forgotten we have company.'

‘I have not forgotten, darling. But I had not thought it ill-mannered to speak of how much you excel at riding, in polite company.' She batted her eyelashes innocently at him.

Cole choked on a mouthful of tea and started to cough violently.

James narrowed his eyes at her as he strode over and started pounding on the doctor's back. ‘We will continue this conversation in private, madam. In the meantime, I would appreciate if you didn't cause my friend's demise before I catch up on the news he brings from London.'

‘Oh, all right. You are such a spoilsport. Don't you agree, Cole?' Alethea rose to her feet and walked over to her husband. She smiled when he gave her a suspicious look, due in no small part to the gleam she was certain was shining from her eyes. She reached up and kissed him on the cheek. ‘I will leave you two alone, as long as you promise to show your appreciation for my forbearance later.'

The duke gave her a resigned look. ‘This is the proper young miss you thought would be a good match for me?' he asked his friend dryly.

‘I do not believe I have ever described her, uh, Alethea as a “proper young miss”.' At Alethea's raised eyebrow, Cole quickly added, ‘She is much, much more interesting than that. That is, if you don't mind me saying so, Your Grace.' He cast her an apologetic look.

‘I am certain my mother would not agree, but I would much rather be described as interesting than proper,' she replied, smiling widely. ‘And on such a flattering note, I shall depart. I will see you both this evening.'

As the duchess left the room, James came and took the armchair adjacent to the chaise longue where Cole had been seated. The doctor poured another cup of tea and sat down.

‘So, what news of London have you?'

‘Well, let's see. Blackburn's decided to wed that actress paramour of his.'

James shook his head. ‘I see we are beginning with gossip about the
beau monde
. Blackburn's to be married? More fool he. It's obvious she is after his inheritance.'

Cole looked amused. ‘And you make this deduction after seeing her from afar once?'

‘You seem to forget that I have known a few actresses in my chequered past.'

‘No indeed, I could not forget even if I should wish to. Let's see . . .' The doctor tapped his chin, looking thoughtful. ‘There was Batty Betty, Tallulah the Tempestuous and the fair Luna. Luna the lunat—'

‘All right, all right. You've made your point,' interrupted the duke. If Cole hadn't been his best friend, he would have been very much tempted to throw a right hook at the smug expression on his countenance.

‘You have to admit you seem to have a penchant for mentally unstable mistresses.'

‘Had, Cole, had. If your memory is indeed as flawless as you claim, then you will also recall that they were incredibly beautiful women.' James shrugged. ‘They were a handful, but they made for interesting times. I was young and craved excitement. They were a means to an end.'

‘Sometimes I forget how cold you can be, although I've known you since you were a mere youth.'

‘I might have been a youth, but my duties and responsibilities were drilled into me at an even younger age.' The duke paused. ‘Perhaps “beaten” is a better word.' He managed to utter this with almost no bitterness. His childhood was a lifetime ago, and his father's actions had only served to strengthen his resolve that he would be a better man and father. As for the dukedom, he had multiplied the worth of his assets tenfold, and his estates and tenants were prospering. He had at long last found a duchess with whom he could envision spending the rest of his life. A duchess whose beguiling mix of innocence and sensuality was as surprising as it was arousing.

A sudden image of his wife from the night before clad in nothing more than a sheet as she lay on her bed giving him a provocative smile appeared in his mind's eye. He quickly cleared his throat, willing the image away before his body reacted, as it had been wont to do ever since that fateful night in Mulgrave's library.

‘What about you, Cole? Has the thought of marriage crossed your mind of late?' he asked casually. The answer was not unexpected, although the reaction was.

‘M-me? Marriage? Oh dear, no, certainly not. You know full well that I am committed to the profession of healing.' The younger man drained his cup of tea, seeming to wish it was brandy, and blushed simultaneously.

James arched an eyebrow. Well, this was interesting. ‘Who is this paragon who has caught your attention?'

‘No-one. I have told you before that I do not intend to be married.' Cole stared back at James steadily, but the duke was not dissuaded.

‘Cole, you know as well as I do that you will never be able to hold out against my interrogation. So you might as well confess all your sins now.'

‘I have nothing to say, so
you
might as well move on to the next conversational subject.' To James's amazement, the doctor leant back against the chaise, face as bland as blancmange.

Very, very interesting indeed. Cole had never been this evasive before. ‘Hmm . . .' James narrowed his eyes, perusing the younger man closely. ‘It's not a patient you have recently treated, is it?'

‘No, it is
not
,' answered the younger man vehemently. ‘I am not infatuated with a patient.'

The duke pounced. ‘Ah! So you do admit to being infatuated by a member of the fairer sex.'

‘I said no such thing!' came the exclamation.

James crossed his arms, allowing a smile to escape. This was so entertaining that he briefly considered calling Alethea in to assist him. No doubt she would guess the secret identity of Cole's object of affection in a blink of an eye. It would, however, be rather unsporting of him to subject his friend to her surprisingly effective interrogation skills. Just the other day she had almost made one of the footmen weep when she demanded to know just who had moved the vase of roses in her sitting room. Very particular, was his duchess. And demanding. They were qualities which he himself held. Perhaps that was why they were so suited to each other.

‘Anyway, which part of “I have nothing to say” did you fail to understand?' added Cole crossly. ‘If you don't stop questioning me, James, I swear I will get up and leave right this instant.'

The fire in his friend's eyes made the duke pause. ‘All right, all right. No need to have a fit of apoplexy,' said James, holding his hands up in a calming gesture. ‘You are not going to leave.'

‘Is that so?' replied the doctor in a challenging tone, his jaw set pugilistically. ‘And why is that?'

‘Because Alethea has need of your services.'

Cole opened his mouth. Then closed it. ‘Oh.' He looked deflated. Then his brows drew together, concern etched on his face. ‘Is something the matter?'

‘I don't believe so.' James looked soberly at his friend. ‘I think she is just concerned that she has not yet conceived.'

‘I see. You have been wed seven months, and you were apart for at least three of those. Give it time. You are both young and healthy. It will happen.'

‘I know, and believe me, I have expressed those exact sentiments to her, but it still weighs on her mind. She tries to hide it from me, but I can see the disappointment in her eyes each month when . . .' James paused. He was not comfortable speaking about such female things, even to his long-time medical friend.

‘I understand. I will talk to her. Perhaps she will be more receptive when I reassure her that she need not worry.'

‘I would be grateful for that, Cole.' James leaned back in the chair. ‘Now then, tell me. What are the current odds at Brooks's that Blackburn will call off the wedding when he realises that the old earl will cut him off without a penny if he goes through with it?'

As Martha adjusted the sapphire-studded silver comb in Alethea's hair, a knock sounded on the door to the duke's room.

‘Come in.' The duchess smiled her thanks at her maid, who curtsied before taking her leave.

‘You're dressed,' uttered James, his disappointment evident. Alethea did not bother to hide her open admiration as she took in her husband's reflection in the mirror before her. Tonight, he was attired in a lustrous dark grey silk coat, which was paired perfectly with a black waistcoat embroidered with silver thread. He bent down and pressed his lips against the curve of her neck, making her shiver. As always, the merest touch from him heated her senses, her body softening in preparation to receive his.

‘I . . . didn't want to keep Dr Cole waiting.' Her mouth opened on a soft sigh when he continued trailing kisses up towards her ear, catching her earlobe between his lips and sucking softly. She gasped, her breasts swelling within the confines of her corset, causing her nipples to rub against the soft batiste of her shift. ‘I thought you would be pleased.' She gasped when he traced his fingertips over the exposed skin above her sapphire-blue satin gown.

‘You have never ceased to please me.' His typically smooth baritone had roughened, making her aware that he was no less affected by her proximity and her reaction to him. ‘I wish to please you. Will you allow me to, my sweet?' His fingers dipped into her black lace-covered bodice, finding a tightly furled bud and pressing with the sweetest pressure.

‘James.' Alethea stood and turned towards him, blindly seeking his mouth. He was a fire in her blood which she could never quench, no matter how many times they came together as man and wife. During their time apart, she had felt lost, as if she had been cast adrift with no anchor and no destination in sight. Even worse was how her body had ached for his until it became a physical pain, despite all the anger and hurt she felt. Her body had cared not what her mind thought or heart felt, just that it needed to be filled with his. His manhood. His very essence.

James's mouth ground down hard on hers, kissing her so passionately that she felt her rational thoughts unravelling even as she drove her fingers into his previously neat queue, holding him close to her. When they finally parted to draw breath, they were both panting heavily. His cheeks were flushed, eyes glittering with stark desire. It was enough to make her stomach clench and moisture rush between her thighs. She did not have to look to know that her husband was equally aroused, so attuned was her body to his.

Feeling the sudden urge to see him, to touch that part of him that never failed to give her pleasure, Alethea reached down and began to unfasten his breeches. He made no move to stop her and when his swollen length sprang free into her waiting hand, she was gratified to hear his low groan. It never ceased to amaze her that she could accept him into her, so large was the shaft that throbbed in her palm, the crown red and tightly stretched. She had held him thus a number of times now, especially since their reconciliation a month ago. She closed her hand around him and started to pump slowly.

‘Alethea.
Christ.
' She looked up to see James drop his head back, throat working as he fought for control. Control that was rapidly slipping beyond his grasp as his shaft emitted a surge of liquid, causing her palm to move slickly on him. She could not tear her eyes away from his face, lust making him appear so starkly beautiful that she wished she could somehow immortalise that image of him at that moment for all eternity.

With her other hand, she cradled his heavy sac, rolling his balls gently as he had taught her. A harsh gasp sounded above her and she knew that it would not take long for him to reach his peak. But just then, an idea came to her, making her pause, and her hand along with her. James opened his eyes and she could tell that he was trying to surface from the tide of passion to ask why she had halted in her ministrations.