His Bewitching Jewel (A Regency Holiday Romance Book 7) (8 page)

“I shouldn’t have left,” Ruby whispered hoarsely.

She didn’t want to reveal anything else to him. She couldn’t do that. Her story was nothing, compared to what he had just told her. She was such a silly fool. She had lived such a charmed life, and she had thrown it away. She was such an utter wretch.

“So, you ran,” he surmised, his eyes lighting with amber fire.

She turned away from him, and walked briskly toward Lady Miranda and Lady Cordelia. She could hear him following her, as his feet crunched the leaves that gave the ground such wondrous colours of this most special season.

“Pray, Miss Massey, don’t be offended. I didn’t mean anything by it. We all make our own choices, and it is not my place to judge you. I…I have done a lot in my life, I regret. I have spent countless sleepless nights wondering what would have happened if I hadn’t been so bloody selfish. I…I should have done more, and I didn’t…so whatever you ran from…I am glad you did, because it brought you straight to me.”

She kept her back to him. She couldn’t turn to him, and say anything in response to what he had just said. They barely knew each other. And, she had so wished that she could remain distant from him. He was only attracted to her because she was the only other adult under his roof that he could converse with. She couldn’t understand why he would like her—he was a dashing duke, and she…well, she had never considered herself to be a beauty.

“I barely know you, sir. I pray that you will cast aside anything you feel for me. I am not here in search of a husband. I have already reassured Mrs. Teague of that.” She had the courage to speak to him in this manner, and she was still pushing him away? She had to be a little barmy.

“She had the gall to tell you not to interact with me? Did she forbid you?” he demanded, anger lacing his voice.

She stopped, and turned back to face him.

“You said yourself that she is a hard woman. She didn’t want me to reach beyond my station, and I am in complete agreement with her. I am not in need of a husband. So pray, leave me be, Your Grace,” her tone was beseeching. She hoped that he would listen to her. But, he was a duke—and as a duke, he was used to being listened to and obeyed, he would not lower himself to acquiescing to what she wanted.

“I did say that about Mrs. Teague, didn’t I?” He looked at her and she didn’t like the expression of thoughtful contemplation he wore. She had seen that expression before—it was one that her cousins, and Julia often wore right before they hatched some kind of madcap scheme.

“Whatever you are thinking about, I beg of you, sir, cast it aside.”

“As you can probably imagine, I am not used to being denied anything, Miss Massey, and tonight…tonight, I desire your company during dinner. You will, of course, join me.” His tone brokered no refusal, and yet, she would have to disappoint him.

Shame, really.

He was good looking. He was charming—he was almost too good to be true. Was she dreaming? Was she lying somewhere at home dreaming this mad fantasy?

“I think, sir,” she took a ragged breath, as her heart pounded in her chest, making her feel quite lightheaded. “I think, sir that you shall have to get used to being denied. I shan’t have dinner with you. I shall dine in my own bedchamber—alone.” Tossing her head haughtily, as she had seen her cousins and Julia do many times before, she walked away from him, and rejoined Lady Miranda and Lady Cordelia.

Now she was safe. He wouldn’t continue attempting to woo her with his nieces chaperoning them.

She looked to where he stood. He was quite befogged. He looked shocked, and his beautiful brown eyes were wide in complete astonishment. She quelled a laugh in her throat. He looked as if he had just had his favourite toy taken from him.

  His shocked expression faded, and grim determination replaced it. It sent a thrill through her. He wouldn’t be dissuaded, and if she wanted to avoid becoming his latest conquest, she would have to run—again. She was loathe to do that because her heart—her heart had already been touched by Lady Miranda and Lady Cordelia.

“Miranda, get up on the swing with Cordelia, and I shall push you both,” he said softly, as he joined them. The nearness of his body, made her take a step back, as she was about to make the same offer to Miranda and Cordelia. They needed a bloody chaperone. She couldn’t avoid him for long. Not the way he looked at her as if she was a tasty treat waiting to be gobbled up! When he looked at her thus, he made her own blood thrill. It wouldn’t take much coaxing on his part to ravish her.

“Oh, thank you, Uncle,” Lady Miranda said, delight lighting her eyes.

Lady Miranda did as he bid, and once she was up next to Lady Cordelia and their laughter drowned out their voices, he leaned over to Ruby, gave her a devilish grin, and said, “So, shall I see you at dinner?”

She sighed heavily. He wouldn’t go away quietly or easily. He was so bloody cock-sure. Mayhap, she could remind him about the mistress he had left behind in London, and tell him quite clearly that she would not be taking that woman’s spot. She had no desire to become his wife—his latest conquest—or accepting an offer of carte-blanche from him. He was quickly becoming the Devilish Duke in her books—and yet…he could so easily become the Delicious Duke, and she had to remain strong—and fight temptation. Because his desires matched hers, God help her.

She had come here with one task in mind, to become Lady Miranda and Lady Cordelia’s governess, and she would not be pulled away from that responsibility. She was sensible, shy, reliable, and always prim and proper, and practical to the end. Everyone in her life could always count on her to do the right thing—and yet—she was far away from the people who held her to such an ideal.

She could do whatever she wished here. She was finally free. Free of the expectations others held her to. Free of being beholden to anyone but herself, and while she feared becoming the Duke’s chattel, he intrigued her. His broodiness, his dark looks, and his sensuous eyes, just might do what no other man had ever been able to do to her—they might win her heart.

*****

Ruby sat with her dinner getting cold, while she stared at her door. She was partly disappointed and partly relieved that he hadn’t come to fetch her. She exhaled, as her nervousness or anticipation, she couldn’t decide which anymore, abated. She was in the clear. He had forgotten his invitation, and was probably sitting eating his own dinner, if he dined at such an early hour. He wouldn’t probably eat his own meal for another hour or so.

She wasn’t dressed to dine with him anyway. She hadn’t changed once today, and that was an oddity for her. Usually, she changed at least three times a day, if not more, and remaining in the same frock, felt a little foreign to her.

Being without Henderson, had given her some limitations. It was too much of a bother to change her clothing now, and she supposed when it came time for them to be cleaned, she would have to ring for a maid, as Henderson had tended to all of those concerns back when she had still been living under her uncle’s protection.

What if the Duke grew bold, and sent out missives inquiring about her? It wouldn’t take him long to find out what he needed to know. What would he think of her, then? Should she bare all to him, and make a clean breast of it, or should she keep her secrets bottled up inside of her? She didn’t know what to do anymore. She had never been left to her own devices for such a good length of time. They had spent most of the morning outside, coming inside for luncheon, and then, after that, she had given them their first lesson, seeking to start out with something fun, she had selected music, and had found that Lady Cordelia was quite interested in learning how to play the pianoforte.

Ruby had excelled at all of her musical studies, and knew how to play the pianoforte, the harp, the guitar and the violin, she wasn’t half as talented playing the flute, as it had once been the bane of her existence. Her music masters had told her she was quite the talent, and whenever she had been at various house parties, and they required some musical entertainment, someone had inevitably suggested her, that someone normally being her uncle. She had done as he had asked, and performed, only to blush profusely during the whole thing, and feeling quite sick afterward.

Everyone had clapped for her, but sometimes, she had wished that her uncle had allowed her to remain the outsider looking in. She liked not being noticed, and while she now mused that he had offered her talents because he had been proud of her achievements, she still wished that he had taken into consideration her need to be left alone sometimes.

Having a confidante that wouldn’t judge her seemed wonderfully alluring. She could tell him everything she had always kept inside, and he wouldn’t chastise her, or cluck his tongue the way her mother used to do, or look at her reprovingly, he would listen. And now, as she pushed the food around on her plate, she wished that she had taken him up on his invitation. If only to see the astonished and indignant look on Mrs. Teague’s face.

She giggled. She couldn’t help herself. Knowing that she could put that women into a dither made her happy. Maybe she should turn her world upside down, and put on something befitting of an evening meal, and go down and have dinner with him, and yet—if she did, he would take it as her giving him what he wanted, and then, he would think he could get her to do whatever he wanted her to. And she couldn’t let him think that. She couldn’t let him have that power over her.

She left her meal, and went to lay down on her bed, so she could contemplate what next to do. She should probably just get ready for bed, and have an early night, as she was still quite fagged from her travels, and the ghosts hadn’t let her have hardly any sleep, though they seemed to leave her alone during the day. Taking her slippers off, she climbed up onto her bed, and within a few minutes, she had drifted away.

*****

Finn went down to dinner, and sat waiting for Ruby. He looked over at the clock—it was half past eight. He liked to keep London hours even when he was in the Country. She hadn’t shown up. She was stubborn. Maybe, she was a bit corky after all. She might be quiet and unassuming, but he had clearly underestimated her. He stood up, and made his butler and footmen jump.

“Where is Miss Massey?” he demanded, a little too harshly.

Mr. Chegwin looked around nervously. “I assume she is still in her chambers, Your Grace,” he said.

“She was supposed to have dinner with me,” he said tersely.

“I was unaware of that, sir,” Mr. Chegwin said. “Should I have one of the footmen go up to her chambers…or maybe, one of the maids?”

“No,” he barked. “I will go myself. I…I will see to it she realizes that when I extend an invitation, I do not expect to be disobeyed.”

He knew how unreasonable he sounded. An invitation was either accepted or declined. She couldn’t disobey him. She had declined his invitation, and here he was still attempting to get his own way.

No one had ever summoned the nerve to tell him no, not when it came to such a simple request as having dinner with him. It simply was not done. Didn’t she realize who he was? He strode through the house, and sighed. He had lured her here under false pretenses.

He hadn’t used his dukedom in the advertisement for a new governess. To the contrary, he hadn’t wanted anyone to know who the person was that was looking for the new governess, and she had come under the impression that she was working for a wealthy older gentlemen. He wasn’t a man of mature years, and she wasn’t a spinster of mature years either—so they had both clearly misrepresented themselves.

He trudged up the steps to her bedchamber, considering making a showing in the nursery before he confronted her. He would check in on his nieces later. Right now, he had to stay determined. He had to keep his indignation up, or he might just come to his senses, and decide not to confront Ruby after all.

He knocked on her door and winced at the loud noise it caused, as it echoed throughout the corridor.

She wasn’t answering. Again, he knocked, and heard her let out a little surprised shriek from inside of the bedchamber. Blast it, had he startled her awake?

The thought made his insides clench. He did wish he could take her to his bedchamber and keep her there for the whole night.

A few minutes later, she wrenched open the door, and looked at him with half hooded eyes, and a sleepy expression her face. From the expression in her eyes, she was quite befogged by his appearance. Her hair was dishevelled, and she looked wonderfully unkempt. He wanted to take her into his arms, carry her back into the bedchamber shut the door, and make sweet love to her. Ah, if only she was his mistress. No, mistress would never do for her. She was an innocent. She deserved more. She deserved to be his wife.

If only she would let him court her.

“Your Grace,” her eyes widened a bit, as recognition dawned. “What…why aren’t you having your dinner?” she asked, sleepily, and still slightly dazed. She hadn’t completely woken up yet. She took the hand that wasn’t holding the door, and rubbed at her eyes. He inhaled his breath sharply, calling upon all of his willpower to keep himself from pulling her into his arms.

“Well, I can’t enjoy my dinner without you, can I?” he asked.

She looked a little taken aback. “I beg your pardon, sir?”

“I said, I can’t enjoy my dinner without you with me. I did invite you, and you never showed.”