Engaging the Enemy (15 page)

The husky quality of her words washed over him like fire and he shucked the rest of his clothes as fast as he could.

Mercy’s chemise landed at his feet and he looked up.

God’s blood, she was beautiful in her nakedness, skin licked by firelight and shadow. Her breasts were full, nipples peaked with arousal, and the delicate thatch of curls between her legs made him want to fall to his knees. But before he could do more than stare, Mercy stepped forward, and stroked her fingers down his sides. His breath caught as she slowly slid her body forward to encompass him. Soft skin, heated and sweet, pressed against him as Mercy learned the planes of his chest and back. Her chin lifted, lips parted, so Leopold did what he’d wanted to since they’d first met. He scooped her into his arms and carried her to bed.

The cool linens curled around them, adding new sensations to their tryst. Mercy hummed to herself softly as her hands stroked his back and kneaded his skin. She rocked against him, pressing her curls to his aching length as she had before. He knew what she wanted better now and he would see her satisfied as never before.

Slowly, he wriggled down her body and kissed her breast. He drew the hard peak into his mouth and teased her while she moaned. He shaped her other breast with his hand. Mercy writhed and shuddered, hands clenching and unclenching on his hair as he switched from one breast to the other.

She shuddered and pressed her pelvis against his stomach. The damp heat of her shifted him lower. He might shock her out of her skin in a moment, but he would taste her tonight and bring her to completion with his mouth.

Her belly was soft and he kissed all around her navel, dipping his tongue inside and drawing wet circles on her skin. But he could smell her desire too keenly to ignore what he intended for long. He wriggled the short distance down the bed until his head rested on her thigh.

With her legs open, the firelight illuminated her folds perfectly. He stroked one finger through her curls, parting her completely to his gaze. Luscious, damp heat coated his finger as he played, listening to Mercy gasping his name as she thrashed her head from side to side.

He brought his face against her and inhaled deeply. His cock ached painfully to join with her again. But he couldn’t do that. He could not risk impregnating her, so he kissed her lower lips and kept on kissing.

Mercy bucked away from his mouth, a desperate wail echoing around the room. When she settled, he held firm to her hips and kissed her again and then licked his tongue over the place that would bring her the greatest pleasure. She bucked again, but then her legs widened and her hands curled into his hair to keep him there.

He licked her nub slowly, feeling it rise toward his tongue. He drew on the nubbin as she repeated his name. She was close to finding her release but wasn’t there yet. To make her come, he eased two fingers inside her body and twisted them.

Mercy’s body clamped on his fingers as a desperate, feminine wail left her mouth. She called his name as she shuddered violently and rocked her hips against his face. Leopold memorized it all—taste, smell, sound—because he knew he’d never find another woman who would respond to him like this again. Despite the joy of making love to her, he’d made a mess of everything. He would never marry, never find a lover who could take her place. The old duke must be happy in his corner of hell. He’d ensured Leopold would be miserable for the rest of his life.

Chapter Fourteen

The taper in Leopold’s hands flared to life, brightening the dark bedchamber around him. He stood slowly, protecting the flame so it would not go out again before he could light his candle. He was doing everything he could not to wake Mercy. It was a long time until morning and he still had to get back to his own chamber without being noticed. But most especially he did not want to wake Mercy because he simply did not know what to say. Saying t
hank you for making my dreams come true
seemed paltry regards after such a frantic night of passion.

She had been everything he remembered and more.

He redressed quietly, but as a precaution, so he could move about the sleeping abbey undetected, he left off his boots and prowled toward the door barefoot. However, before he left her bedchamber, he took one last look at the sleeping woman; hair tossed about the pillow, a soft pale arm reaching toward the empty side of the bed. She was utterly captivating and lovely. Why had her husband allowed her to be used in the old duke’s plans all those years ago?

He shook his head and turned his back on his questions. There was no answer, of course. Not with her husband dead and the old duke long gone.

Leopold eased out into the hall. All was silent. Still. Carefully, he picked his way back to the blue suite and closed the door. He let out a heavy sigh, relieved to have returned undetected.

“Good morning, sir. May I take your boots?”

Leopold jumped out of his skin and turned around. “Damn you, Colby. What the devil are you doing here at this time of night?”

“Worrying about where you might be, sir. Wilcox said you’d been detained on an urgent matter, but wouldn’t say where or when you would be back.”

“Well, I’m fine, or will be as soon as I reclaim the decade you just scared off my life,” Leopold whispered.

Colby hurried forward and took his boots from his hands. “Sorry, sir. But, you’ve been so tense and restless since we came here. I didn’t know what to think when you didn’t return, and I noticed you hadn’t taken your pistol with you. I was just considering a search.”

Unfortunately, Colby knew his habits too well. He’d dined with Nawabs in India, discreetly armed, many times before. He never liked to take chances. “A gentleman doesn’t dine with a lady bearing arms, Colby,” he lied. He had carried his pistol for the last several days in Mercy’s presence. Only tonight had he felt at ease enough to let down his guard and pack the pistol away. Look at what that moment of foolishness had led to.

An odd smile crossed his valet’s face. “Well, she is an unusual duchess.”

Leopold raked his hands through his hair. Unusual was an understatement. Mercy was more dangerous than he’d realized. She made him want things best forgotten. “Well, the night was uneventful. You don’t need to wait up for me again.”

Colby’s gaze flickered over him, lingering on the imperfect knot Leopold had tied in his cravat. His frown turned into a grin. Damnation, Colby had spotted the rushed job he’d made of his cravat. Leopold could not have him spreading rumors about where he’d likely spent the night. With Mercy was an easy assumption for anyone to make, given they had dined together earlier. Leopold took a step forward. Better to cut off the damage now before any ill was done. “Not a word about my whereabouts tonight. To anyone, understood?”

The servant’s eyes lit up with mischief. “I wouldn’t dream of it, sir,” he chuckled. “I’ll say good night then.” He tugged on his forelock, grabbed the boots, and left Leopold alone with his swirling thoughts.

Two servants, possibly, had an idea about his tryst with Mercy. How long before the rest of the household suspected?

Leopold paced his chamber, too anxious and restless now for sleep. He had to speed up his search of the abbey and remove himself before Mercy’s reputation was utterly ruined by the attraction between them.

He stopped before the fire as a new plan formed in his mind. There was no reason he could not continue the search at night while everyone else rested. He was awake, he doubted he’d sleep a wink, and he did want to search Mercy’s husband’s bedchamber. The best time to do that was when no one was watching.

He found other footwear and prowled back the way he had come, turning into his cousin’s bedchamber which stood opposite Mercy’s doorway. The door swung with a small grating of hinge and he squeezed through the gap and closed the door again. He held the candle high and surveyed the chamber. Dark timber, russet red hangings but stripped bare of personal effects on all the surfaces. He slowly circled the room, sliding open drawers and closing them again when he found nothing of interest.

It was as if the fifth Duke of Romsey hadn’t existed. There was nothing left of Edwin Randall within this room; no book nor piece of clothing. No fob watch nor jewels. The only thing this room had in common with the other chambers of Romsey Abbey was that the walls were covered with paintings. Scenes of hunting lodges with dogs bounding around outside, other stately homes Leopold didn’t recognize hung here, too. But not one of these paintings seemed lovely to Leopold. There was a dark watchfulness about them that drew in the light and held it.

Leopold leaned closer to one of the paintings. There was something about the way the painter used color and light that repulsed him. Even the portrait of a ship on a storm tossed sea was sinister. The way the artist had painted the scene hinted that all was lost for the vessel and its frantic crew.

He shuddered. If his cousin had chosen to surround himself with visions such as these, then his mind was of a far darker character than he had seemed on the surface. He tried to imagine Mercy married to his cousin and failed. Edwin, with his weakness and quieter watchful nature, would have dampened Mercy’s fire, her joyous character, and her smiles. What had life been like for her after she’d conceived? Had his cousin known that Leopold had shared Mercy’s bed? Had he treated her kindly after that night?

He shook his head. He might never know. He couldn’t ask without revealing more than he should, but wishing for answers might drive him mad. Mercy seemed to have suffered no lasting hurt from their past encounter. She’d gained a son that she loved, an heir for the duchy, and appeared happy enough with life. All he could be was a mild diversion from a life of order and duty to the boy. The life of a proper duchess held no room for him.

When he went away, she’d be just the same. He sighed. He had a lot to do before he could leave Romsey. He had an estate to bring to order. There was much to be done yet. Today he would see the upper dams breached and get on with the business of assessing the farms. Later, he would straighten the study and find out what else lay hidden here.

After a quick change of clothes, he headed down to the stables. The grooms appeared startled to see him about so early but quickly saddled his horse. “There you are, Mr. Randall. It’s a fine horse you have there,” the older groom observed.

“He’s an energetic animal.” Leopold squinted, trying to recall the fellow’s name from yesterday’s interviews. He looked familiar, but Leopold couldn’t remember seeing him yesterday with the other servants. He guessed his age to be about ten years his senior. “Have we met?”

The older man smiled sadly. “Long time ago now. You’ve grown a fair bit since those days. Call me, Allen. Everyone does.”

Leopold struck out his hand and they shook. Yet he couldn’t remember an Allen from his past. He must have lived around here all those years ago and taken up duties on the estate. Eventually, Leopold would remember where he knew him from but for now he had work to do.

Leopold patted his horse’s nose. “I’ll need a few men to meet me at the upper dam in half an hour.”

Allen issued orders and the grooms scurried to obey. Horses were saddled and, to Leopold’s surprise, Allen and two lanky young boys joined him. Allen waved them closer. “My sons; Jacob and David.”

Leopold nodded, but he was curious about these two as well. Who the hell were they? He hadn’t met them before either.

Spine prickling with unease, Leopold set off for the high fields and the dams he needed to inspect, keeping one eye on his company. They rode well, very well for ordinary servants but did not speak or offer up any conversation.

When they reached the dams, Leopold dismounted and surveyed the area. There were three holding dams staggered beside the water course, ready to divert water to where it was most wanted. Each was plentiful enough that they could feed the parched fields below. All he needed to do was deepen the spillway set into the side of the structure for a steady flow and let gravity do the rest. He chose the lowest dam but was disgusted with the growth of weeds and silt blocking the spillway. This would take all day to clear.

“No need to get your hands dirty, Mr. Randall. That’s what I brought my boys for.” Allen waved them forward. “Lads, open her up and let the water out at a slow rate. We don’t want a rush.”

Leopold stepped back as the two young men went at the weeds enthusiastically. Before long, they were covered in muck but had the spillway clear and were slowly digging out soil. Water rushed out in a murky wave, swirling around their feet and splashing their legs on its way down the hill.

“Careful there,” Leopold called anxiously. He didn’t want anyone accidentally swept away if the dam burst.

Allen barked a laugh. “They can swim like fishes, that pair. Unlike some Randall devils I could name.”

A cold wave of recognition swept over Leopold and he spun about. “You can’t be
that
Allen.”

Allen moved away, spoke to his sons in a low tone, and when they moved off, he turned back to Leopold. “No?” His eyebrow rose. “Who am I then that the likes of you would know me?”

Whispers. Lies. Scandal.

Leopold tightened his hand on the reins, peering at the face before him, changing it, making the other man younger. His breath caught. This place was alive with the sins of the past. It was all there when he looked hard enough: the family resemblance. “I remember now. You’re the duke’s other son. First son,” he whispered. The one his parents had known about and spoken of in hushed tones. With everything that had happened in the last ten years, Leopold had forgotten this one small detail. What else had he forgotten?