Chapter 21
What secrets is Raph hiding?
The novel on Camelia’s lap lay open yet unread. Her mind echoed with forbidden desires that she couldn’t fathom. She struggled to maintain her focus, as her thoughts were always consumed by Raph.
I’ve gained a sliver of control since our kitchen tussle, but his mysteriousness keeps me on edge, like a storm I can’t predict.
The memory of his hands, firm and commanding against her flesh, sent a flush through her, and her body shivered with longing.
The library’s quiet was shattered by the creak of the heavy oak door, and her heart leapt as Raph stepped inside. His dark coat made his broad frame seem taller, and his eyes locked onto hers with an intensity that stole her breath.
My body’s already alive for him.
“Camelia.” He made her name sound like a sin, stirring her senses like no other. “You’re reading alone at this hour? I thought you’d be resting.”
“Why should I be resting?” She closed the book and set it aside.
“You need to regain your strength,” he said simply, as if his choice of words wouldn’t unravel her further.
Her fingers trembled slightly, but she decided to challenge him. “Regain my strength for another of your lessons, Your Grace?”
“Are you being smart with me?”
“Maybe. Or maybe I’m just trying to understand the man who keeps me guessing.”
She rose from the armchair, her muslin gown rustling softly. Her pulse quickened when his scent reached her. Her eyes ventured to his hands, the same hands that had touched her so intimately just the other day.
And now I am already craving more.
“You long to understand me, little flower?”
“Yes, I do.”
Raph stayed still. His cold eyes gave nothing away. “That’s a dangerous pursuit, Duchess.”
“Dangerous for who?”
“For everyone.”
“A husband should never be a mystery to his own wife,” she retorted.
“Some mysteries are better left unsolved.”
Camelia stepped closer to him, daring him to face her. “I’m not afraid of you, Raph.”
Her body hummed with awareness of his closeness. She craved his hands on her hips, his fingers on her sensitive folds and her nipples.
He’s standing so close, and I want him to touch me again. God, I’m shameless.
Raph raised an eyebrow. “You’re not scared, even after our… adventure in the kitchen?”
Camelia blushed at the memory of their passionate encounter in the kitchen. It was a forbidden thrill that lingered like a secret between them. They had never spoken of it since then.
The silence between them was heavy with tension, yet questions swirled in her mind, relentless and consuming.
“I am not afraid,” she repeated.
Raph smirked. “You’re bold tonight, Camelia. Be careful, you are not ready for another lesson.”
He took a step towards her until the air between them burned with tension. His cold blue eyes dropped to her lips.
The warning made her shiver with longing. She clutched her necklace and played with the beads, so her hands wouldn’t reach for him.
“Is that another promise?”
He’s so close I can feel his body heat.
“Yes, it is.”
“Why did you come here?”
“It’s my manor; I can come and go as I please.”
“It almost feels like you came to check on me. Or maybe you just can’t stay away?”
“I came to see what trouble you’re brewing, Duchess, before I head out. You’ve got a habit of… upending my plans. Get used to me checking in on you regularly.” He walked past her.
His arm brushed against hers, making her skin tingle.
“What happened in the kitchen was just one lesson, Camelia. There’s more to learn, and more to teach you.”
“What more could you possibly do?”
“There’s a lot more, little flower.”
She shivered.
“Oh, and Camelia?”
“Yes?”
“Don’t think you’ve gained the upper hand because of one confession,” he warned, pouring himself a glass of brandy and draining it in one gulp.
Camelia’s voice trembled with desire. “Why do you call that a lesson? I felt you, Raph. I felt your hands, and I saw your… desire.”
The memory of Raph’s arousal straining against his trousers sent a shiver of heat through her.
“It’s called a lesson because that’s my way of teaching you how to be a good duchess.” His words set her ablaze. “Tell me, little flower, did you enjoy it?”
“Enjoy wh-what exactly?” she stammered.
“Feeling my hands on you, seeing my desire for you. Tell me, did it make you burn as it did me?”
Camelia refused to answer his questions, but she felt her body heat up under his scrutiny.
Raph chuckled darkly.
“How dare you?”
He made his way to the door and paused. “Maybe you’re not as in control as you think you are.”
Camelia held her tongue, but anger flared in her chest.
“Where are you off to?” she blurted out before he could leave.
“That’s none of your concern, Camelia.”
He left, shutting the door loudly behind him.
Camelia sank back into the armchair, her book all but forgotten, her body still humming with the tension of this encounter.
“You look like you’re plotting a war, Raph,” David teased as he leaned back, his eyes glinting with mischief. “What’s got you so grim? Is married life not the bliss you expected?”
Raph’s jaw clenched, slightly irritated by David’s jibe. But the Marquess of Barrow was the only man he trusted like a brother, their bond forged through years of shared history and unwavering loyalty.
“If it has to do with my marriage, what would you propose, David?”
“Well, I suppose… I should advise you!”
Raph nearly choked on his drink. “Unmarried men should never dish out marital advice,” he retorted.
David laughed loudly, drawing attention to their table. “No need to scar me with your words, old friend!” He clapped Raph’s good shoulder with each bark of laughter.
Raph couldn’t help but grin.
“So how is she?”
“Who? Pamela or Camelia?”
“Well, I always care about Pamela,” David said, before pausing to take a sip of his brandy. “But tonight, I’m quite curious about my good friend’s rushed marriage to a mysterious woman who’s been absent from Society for some time. Raph, what’s the deal with your Duchess?”
Raph’s lips twitched as he swirled his brandy. “Camelia’s great, thanks,” he said simply.
David groaned dramatically. “I could never fathom how you got married before me. I’m clearly more suitable for marriage.”
“Yes, clearly.”
They smirked at each other.
Raph’s thoughts drifted to Camelia and stayed there. The image of her soft curves was seared in his mind, and he longed to explore her body. She clouded his thoughts daily.
“Am I speaking to myself again?” David’s voice cut through his thoughts.
“What?”
David sighed. “I asked how your marriage is.”
“It’s… complicated.” Raph took a slow sip of brandy. “Camelia’s not what I expected.”
David’s grin returned. “Not what you expected? That’s rich. Marrying is like playing with fire, Raph. You cannot be surprised when everything starts burning to the ground. Has she truly got you tied in knots in such little time?”
Raph shot him a glare, though a reluctant smirk tugged at his lips. “Yes, I truly believe that she is more likely to tie me up, the way things are going.”
An unbidden thought of Camelia being bound by ropes as he pleasured her filled his mind and caused his body to stiffen, but the slight ache in his shoulder brought him back to reality.
“She’s taken Pamela to the damned kitchen, David. Baking scones and stirring emotions we’ve spent years keeping locked away. She promised her a birthday party. The woman is changing everything at Brentmere!”
David laughed, a rich sound that drew a few glances again. “Scones? Good God, Raph. Your Duchess is staging a rebellion with flour and sugar. I like her already. But seriously, why the long face? Pamela’s talking, isn’t she? That’s progress.”
“Progress is only possible when one follows the rules.” Raph’s voice sharpened, his grip tightening on his glass. “Pamela told Camelia that I’m not her father. Said she feels it, David. I’ve built a fortress to protect her, and Camelia’s tearing it down quickly.”
Pamela’s pain cut deeper than any blade, and Camelia was pushing him to face it.
David’s expression softened, his voice lowering. “She’s not wrong, you know. Pamela’s sharp; she’s bound to sense something. But you’re still her father in every way that matters. Why not let your wife in? She seems determined to help.”
Raph’s eyes darkened, his thoughts churning as he considered his friend’s suggestion. “Let her in? Expose the truth of Pamela’s parentage? It would destroy everything I’ve done to keep her safe.”
“You will never know if you don’t try.”
“Camelia would not understand,” he retorted, his tone clipped. “She thinks the truth will fix everything, but some secrets are better left buried. Pamela’s feelings and well-being are my priority, always.”
Before David could reply, a sultry voice interrupted them.
“Well, well, Your Grace. You look positively wound up,” Wendy purred, gliding to their table, her crimson gown flowing around her and taking up the entire space.
She had once stirred Raph’s interest, but now her presence felt hollow as she sat next to him.
“Is married life not suiting you, my darling Duke? Or is your new Duchess keeping you on too tight a leash?”
Raph’s jaw clenched, his irritation flaring. “My marriage is none of your concern, Wendy,” he replied coldly.
She laughed, undeterred, leaning closer and touching his arm. “Oh, come now, Raph. You’re as tense as a bowstring. A man like you needs… release. Why not let me help, like old times? Your Duchess need never know.”
David cleared his throat loudly to remind them of his presence. Raph glanced at him and noticed his raised eyebrow. The cad was struggling to stifle a grin.
“Careful, Wendy. His Grace is a married man now. Though I must say he does look like he hasn’t had a proper night in weeks—”
Raph shot him a warning look.
No other woman stirs me as Camelia does.
His thoughts drifted to Camelia’s soft, moist folds and the way she surrendered to his punishment.
“Wendy,” he said curtly. “Find another man. Because I’m not interested.”
Wendy pouted, her fingers trailing along his arm. “Your Duchess must be quite the vixen to keep you so… preoccupied. Or is she withholding her charms, leaving you all frustrated?”
Raph’s hand grabbed her wrists and tightened around them, his patience fraying. “Speak of my wife again, and you’ll regret it.”
Wendy’s nothing compared to her.
Wendy raised her free hand in mock surrender. “My, my, so protective. I’ll leave you to your brooding, Your Grace. But if you change your mind, you know where to find me.”
Raph let go of her wrist.
She slid off the seat inelegantly and sauntered off after blowing a kiss in their direction.
David leaned towards him with a coy look. “She’s something!” He raised his eyebrows, and Raph nodded. “But she’s got a point, Raph. You’re wound tighter than ever. Is it just Pamela, or is your Duchess truly driving you insane?”
Raph took a long sip; the brandy burned down his throat.
How do I tell him that Camelia is driving me mad, but not in the way he imagines? Her eyes, her voice, the way she challenges me at every turn. And I’m enjoying every second of it.
“Both,” he admitted roughly. “Camelia’s… relentless. She’s in my head, David, pushing me to open doors I’ve kept locked for years. And Pamela… she’s slipping away, and I don’t know how to stop it.”
David’s grin faded, his tone turning serious. “Then maybe it’s time to let Camelia help. She’s not your enemy, Raph. She’s your wife. And from what you’ve said, she’s got a heart big enough to handle Pamela’s pain and yours.”
“That’s a risk I cannot take,” Raph said firmly. “Pamela’s safety comes first. Camelia will follow my rules, or she’ll learn the consequences.”
David raised an eyebrow and responded dryly, “Sounds like you’re enjoying teaching her a bit too much, old friend.”
Raph’s lips twitched, a reluctant spark of amusement breaking through. “She’s a challenge, I’ll give her that. Defiant, bold. Every time I think I’ve got her under control, she turns the tables on me.”
David chuckled, raising his glass. “God knows you needed that challenge! To defiant duchesses, then.” They clinked their glasses together. “But seriously, Raph, give the Duchess a chance. She’s shaken you up, and maybe that’s not a bad thing, since you’ve been an unshakeable fortress for too long.”
Raph stared into his glass, his thoughts churning.
A fortress or a wall?
It did not matter because either way, Camelia was breaking through, and he was not sure he could stop her or even if he wanted to.
“Enough about me,” he said, deflecting. “What about you? Still chasing all the women London has to offer?”
David chuckled. “You got it all wrong, Raph. They chase me.”
“Oh, of course.” Raph shook his head, but the corners of his mouth lifted.
“Although I do admit that I long to settle down with my own wife someday. My own… Camelia,” David teased.
Raph stilled. “Stay away from her, David,” he warned.
David’s laughter rang out, unyielding.
Raph was accustomed to his friend’s relentless teasing, but Camelia’s name on David’s lips stirred a primal, possessive heat within him, dark and dangerous, urging him to claim her fully.
Camelia was his.
“You truly need to relax, Raph. As it is, you’re fighting a losing battle against two women.”
Raph sighed. David was right.
“Do you have any useful advice on how to win this battle, David?”
“With that shoulder? I say you should surrender.”
“Surrender? To my own wife? You’re a worse strategist than I thought. I’m the Duke of Brentmere, not some lovesick pup.”
“Oh, Raph, you’re practically panting for her like a dog in heat. I’m seeing it right now. God as my witness! Just admit it, she’s got you wrapped around her little finger.”
“Hardly. I’m keeping her in check, David. With rules and control, that’s how I win. Unlike you, chasing every skirt in the ton.”
“Well, I have a right to chase skirts. I am not a duke… yet. So, I do not need marriage!” David cheered to that and downed his drink. “And Raph, be warned, no man is in control when he’s married.”
Raph’s eyes narrowed. David was right, again.
“Do you have any sound advice for me?” he huffed.
“Yes!”
“Do continue.”
“Bed her senselessly; that will make her obey you without making any complaints.”
The men laughed in their shared camaraderie.
“Thank you, David.”
“What for?” David asked drunkenly.
“For the bad advice and even worse company.”
As the night sky filled with stars. Raph drained another glass, the brandy doing little to cool the heat inside him.
“Another round before I head back home?”
“I would never say no to that, Your Grace.”
Raph signaled to the waiter, his mind already wandering to Brentmere, where Camelia waited for him.