To her surprise, he had a distinct French accent.
"I'm delighted to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Waterstone. His Grace tells me that our ancestors coexist on the far corners of the mighty Diable Delamere family tree." A dimple played at the corner of his mouth as he shot a glance at the duke. "As the duke says, my duties are indeed varied. Last week I had the pleasure of fending off the dukes latest discarded mistress. She certainly had a very interesting vocabulary for a lady."
The duke poured himself another cup of coffee. "Despite his complaints, Nick has a way with the ladies. I'm sure that he will be honored to escort you around town when I'm unable to."
"Of course, Mrs. Waterstone. Consider me at your service."
Elizabeth drank more tea and had just started to feel alive when Sir John Harrington strode into the room. After a quick glance in her direction, he began to converse with the duke in rapid French. After listening for a minute or two, Elizabeth cleared her throat.
"Your Grace, would you please tell Sir John that I speak French far better than he does?" She smiled, showing her teeth. "And if you don't mind me saying so, his accent is
atrocious
. If he doesn't wish me to understand what he is saying, he should try another language."
Nicholas gave a snort of laughter that he tried valiantly to suppress. The duke's lips twitched, but he seemed unperturbed as he continued to gaze at Elizabeth.
"Before you open your mouth again, John," the duke said smoothly, "Might I suggest that you also avoid Latin and Greek?" The duke raised an eyebrow at Elizabeth and she nodded. "Is there anything else you wish to add, my dear?"
"I speak Spanish too, Your Grace, but not particularly well." Elizabeth couldn't help but smile as she looked into Sir John's red face and then modestly down at her plate. "I've a remarkable ear for languages."
"So it would seem," the duke said.
Eventually, Sir John's rigid countenance relaxed and he cleared his throat. "I should have known that any woman you took an interest in, Your Grace, would be an unusual one. I can only beg your pardon, Mrs. Waterstone and trust that we can become better acquainted."
In some confusion, Elizabeth turned to the duke who regarded her with his usual calm expression.
"He misjudged you, my dear." The duke wiped his mouth with a linen napkin, rose to his feet, and bowed to Elizabeth. "Perhaps you might be gracious enough to accept his apology and leave the no-doubt complicated explanations until later. I wish you to attend me in the study."
Elizabeth considered Sir John carefully. She didn't believe his attempt to placate her for a second. But she accepted his hand and the kiss he brushed over her knuckles with all the graciousness she could muster.
She followed the duke into his study and shut the door behind her. He was already seated behind his desk, his head bent over a pile of official-looking documents. His riding coat was black and cut by a master. An ebony pin surrounded by diamonds lay buried in the depths of his elaborately arranged cravat. The whiteness of his linen contrasted strongly with his raven hair and deep set silver eyes.
He spoke without looking up. "Did you enjoy your travels, Elizabeth?"
Elizabeth smoothed her dark, serviceable skirts over her knees.
"Yes, indeed, Your Grace. Although I was sorry to lose the companionship of your daughter." She hesitated. "I promised to write to her. I should have asked for your permission to do so first."
His eyes lifted and his gaze lingered on her tightly clasped hands. "Of course, my dear. Why should it not be? And speaking of letters--" he tossed an envelope into her lap "--this came from your stepfather's house. I assume it will be an invitation to visit with your mother and half-sister. Let me know when you wish to use the carriage."
Elizabeth crushed the letter to her bosom and fought to find her voice. "I, I thought I was forbidden the house." The duke said nothing and she stared at him for a long while. "You did this for me, didn't you?"
"Why should you think that?"
Elizabeth leaned forward. "Because you are the only man with sufficient power to bend my stepfather to your will." She managed a tremulous smile as she tucked the letter into her pocket. "Thank you. ?I cannot tell you how much..."
The duke cut her off with a decisive wave of his hand. "Then don't. Consider my intervention as a business matter. If you are unhappy here, it will make my task much harder."
Elizabeth took in a deep breath. The duke could have had no idea how much he had set her mind at rest. She was deeply thankful that she would be able to oversee Michael's care without the need for subterfuge.
The duke put down his quill and linked his hands together in front of him. "Are you still set on our arrangement?"
Elizabeth nodded. "Yes, Your Grace, in fact, I'm beginning to think it might not be so arduous after all. I've no difficulty enjoying your kisses. They are quite pleasant and I must confess that you perform them rather well."
"I'm so glad I've amused you." He continued to study her. "I entertain high hopes that you will continue to enjoy what I will teach you next."
He came around the desk and sat on the front edge of it. His boots bore such a high polish that Elizabeth could see her reflection in them. "If you permit, I think we should continue the masquerade of your being a widowed relative of mine. I've no wish for my staff to know any differently and it suits our purpose if the
ton
gossips about your extended presence here."
He smiled slightly at her puzzled expression. "Widows are allowed a lot more freedom to take lovers than young unmarried girls. No one would be surprised if we decided to form a liaison."
"If that is true, it is a shame I never married. My life would have been a lot easier as a widow."
The duke crossed one immaculate booted foot over the other and studied the toecap before he ventured a reply. "That is one way of looking at it, Elizabeth but perhaps a trifle self-centered. I suspect any man you chose to marry would rather have lived."
Elizabeth pressed a hand to her heated cheek. "Oh, Your Grace, forgive me. I was only thinking aloud. I never meant to imply I wished anyone dead."
She sought his eyes and saw the gentle mockery in them. "Oh, you are teasing me. It is
quite
disconcerting. I wish you wouldn't do it."
His slight smile faded and he was suddenly all business." We should discuss how we mean to go on."
"Indeed we should, Your Grace." Elizabeth slid her hand into her pocket and stroked the letter like a talisman.
"You are willing to live quietly here for a few months while we complete your education?"
"A few months?" Elizabeth couldn't help her startled interjection. "Surely you have taught me most of what I need to know?"
She blushed when the duke looked stunned.
He rose slowly from his perch and came toward her. Within a heartbeat he pulled her to her feet and put his arms around her.
"You think that you know enough because I've kissed you a few times and you have found it 'quite pleasant'?" He laughed into her neck and she shivered. "I've taught you nothing, nothing at all. By the time I've finished with you, you will want my hands on your body all the time and you will want to touch me, too." He bit down on the soft flesh at the base of her neck. "You will learn to bring me release in ways that you cannot imagine and I will bring you great pleasure."
She gasped as he drew her closer into his arms.
"Why don't I continue your education right here?" He glanced around. "In broad daylight, in my study where anyone could walk in on us. How about if I kiss you now?"
Before Elizabeth could muster a protest, his mouth closed over hers and she surrendered to the heated demands of his kiss. Her hands slid up his back to grip his broad shoulders. While she struggled to breathe, the duke caught her around the waist and sat her on the edge of his desk. He pushed one of his heavy thighs between her legs and pinned her there.
His kisses became deeper and slower and he rocked his thigh against her body in the same hypnotic rhythm as his tongue. She began to feel warm and no longer tried to escape his embrace. His hand pushed at the bodice of her gown, sliding it from her shoulder and baring the swell of her breast. His other hand pressed insistently on the small of her back until she arched her spine, offering her breasts to him.
Elizabeth choked back a shocked cry as the duke trailed kisses down her neck, nuzzled the swell of her breast, and sucked her nipple into his mouth. To her horror, the exquisite sensation tempted her to clutch at his hair and keep him there against her aching flesh. By the time the duke transferred his mouth to her other breast, she lay limply and compliantly in his grasp.
There was a sound from the library next door and the duke raised his head. She could not help but notice the gleam of appreciation in his silvered eyes as he surveyed his handiwork. Her nipples had drawn into hard peaks and her whole body throbbed in time to her raised heartbeat. She allowed the duke to adjust her corset and pull up her bodice. She shivered every time his fingers brushed against her and she suspected he knew it. It seemed to take him an age to make her respectable again.
Even when she was decently covered, he still held her captive on his desk, his thigh warm and solid against her skirts and between her legs, making her want to grind herself against him in a most unladylike way.
As her senses returned, she realized she was the one clinging to the duke.
He moved away and surveyed her, a small smile on his lips. "Now, my dear, I've work to do. I suggest you go shopping with Nick. I'm sure there are items of a more personal nature that you wish to purchase for yourself?"
He reached behind her and presented her with a small leather bag that clinked when he dropped it into her hand. "Before you start to argue, these are your wages for accompanying Eloise to Bath. Enjoy spending them. I will see you at dinner."
Elizabeth was unable to do more than nod at his brisk flow of instructions. Her body still seemed to be reaching for his and she was unwilling to move. It was an effort just to stand up.
He paused before sitting at his desk. "Elizabeth?"
"Yes, Your Grace?"
"Maybe while you are out you might consider a better choice of words for describing my kisses? If this is what 'quite pleasant' does to you, I dread to think what wonderful or exquisite will achieve."
Elizabeth managed an unsteady curtsey and headed for the door, the duke's soft laughter filling the space behind her.
Shopping with coin in her purse and without the worry of her stepfather's debtors was an invigorating experience. Elizabeth had lived in London for several years but her previous existence had been fraught with difficulties and she had been far too busy to shop for pleasure. She had taken charge of the housekeeping at an early age to prevent the Foresters from gambling away every last penny the rest of the family had.
Her days had been spent searching for cheap food and patching her clothing whilst her mother pretended that nothing had changed. Mrs. Forester believed that maintaining appearances
mattered
and had continued to receive visitors as though she were the queen in the shabby, rented houses they were forced to live in.
It was Elizabeth who had baked the confectioneries her mother loved to serve to guests and Elizabeth who saved and reused the expensive tea leaves to make them last longer. When slovenly maids were unwilling or unable to perform their more delicate tasks, Elizabeth developed a skilled hand with a flat iron to preserve her mother's finery.
She glanced down at the intricate black pleats on her bodice and sighed with pure pleasure. Since she entered the duke's grand establishment, nobody had asked her to iron or wash a thing, tasks she loathed.
Nicholas made her shopping experience even more rewarding by anticipating her every whim. Without complaint, he had accompanied her to Hookhams Library where she had taken out a subscription. Then he had recommended a haberdashers where she provided herself with necessities for sewing. Their morning ended with their enjoying a well earned rest and an ice at Gunter's.
Elizabeth calculated that the immense sum of money the duke had tossed at her so casually would prove more than sufficient to pay for Michael's care for several months. She counted the remaining coins in her purse and decided she could spare enough to treat herself to a few luxuries. She smiled as Nicholas bowed and opened the door to Crabtree's perfumery.
With a thrill of guilty pleasure she sought out her favorite lily of the valley soap fragrance and added it to the lavender water she intended to take to her mother as a gift.
Nicholas waited patiently by the door and Elizabeth smiled as she caught his eye. She turned back and murmured an apology as her gloved hand tangled with another woman's basket, spilling the contents.
"Elizabeth? Oh my goodness. Is it indeed you?"
She glanced up and found herself staring into her half-sister's delighted face. With a glad cry, she opened her arms and enveloped Mary in a warm embrace. Mary was becomingly attired in a blue velvet pelisse and matching bonnet, which only enhanced her blossoming beauty.
While Mary pulled away and picked up her scattered purchases, Elizabeth studied her blonde, petite seventeen- year-old half-sister. Even though it had been only a few short weeks since they had last seen each other, Mary's sophisticated wardrobe made her look older. Elizabeth's eyes narrowed as she estimated the cost of the elaborate outfit Mary wore and wondered who had paid for it.
"Mother said that you had left the city," Mary said breathlessly, her blue eyes shining, her hands clasping Elizabeth's. "Where on earth have you been? You must promise to tell me all about it."
Before Elizabeth could muster a reply, a gloved hand gripped Mary's arm. "Mary, come away now."
Elizabeth's throat tightened as she registered the disdain on her mother's averted face.
"Mother..." Elizabeth whispered but her mother refused to spare her a glance, her rigid attention all on Mary.