Chapter 11
“Miss Holt?”
At the knocking on the door and the sound of her name, Cecily woke with a start and then clutched the sheet to her neck as she realized she was completely naked beneath it.
As the reason for her state of undress flooded back to her, she felt her cheeks glowing with fiery embarrassment.
Did that shockingly indecent scene with the Duke really happen, or could she have dreamed it?
Glancing across the room, she saw the towel lying on the floor where she had dropped it last night at his command. No, that highly improper game had been all too real, and now she had to face him again.
The knocking sounded once more, and Cecily thought she recognized the voice of the maid who had helped prepare her bath last night.
“I’ve brought water, Miss Holt. Mrs. Barnes says that breakfast is ready downstairs.”
“Thank you,” Cecily called back, leaping from the bed and hurrying over to where her unworn nightdress lay neatly on a chair beside the folded pile of yesterday’s clothing. “I am awake. Do come in.”
By the time the maid entered with a jug of warm water for the washstand, Cecily was decently covered and her face composed.
“Shall I help you dress, miss?” the maid asked.
Cecily nodded, both for speed and because she was unsure whether she would be able to fasten all her stays or style her hair this morning.
“Is the Duke awake?” she asked as casually as she could, hoping that she might avoid him for as long as possible.
“Yes, miss. His Grace is downstairs in the breakfast room.”
Cecily nodded and worked hard to still the hammering of her heart. She needed the Duke’s help and could not avoid him now, never mind the fact that they were somehow engaged to be married.
As she washed and dressed, she wondered with disquiet what marriage would be like with such a maverick and unpredictable character.
* * *
“Good morning, Miss Holt,” the Duke greeted her from the breakfast table, glancing at the clock on the mantelpiece as he did so, its hands showing quarter to seven.
“Good morning, Your Grace,” she managed to return politely as she took her seat, keeping her eyes as much as she could on the table where fresh rolls, fruit cake, and coffee were laid out.
“You may have breakfast now, if you wish,” the Duke told her, drinking the last of his coffee and setting the cup down.
“Mrs. Barnes has also packed food for our journey, and the maids will see to overnight bags and some small luggage, since we know neither our destination nor timing. The carriage is already waiting outside.”
Nodding, Cecily took a roll and poured coffee into her cup. Peering discreetly at the Duke as she buttered her bread, she saw him looking at her with an amused glint in his deep blue eyes.
Was he thinking of last night? Or of doing something similar again with her? Was he even considering touching her with his hands?
Looking sharply away, Cecily took a sip of coffee and willed the strange butterflies in her stomach to be still.
“Is something wrong, Miss Holt? Am I not properly dressed again?”
The Duke’s words were teasing, and the sound of his voice reminded her of the night before in bed. Once again, she felt that restless, helpless longing running through her blood and fought against it. She now had to spend hours, if not a whole day, with this man in the close quarters of a carriage.
“You are not, Your Grace,” she answered honestly, taking in his unfastened waistcoat, the jacket slung over a chair, his creased collar, and loosely-wound stock. “You might be mistaken for your own gardener in your present outfit.”
The Duke threw back his head and laughed, ruffling his hair with his own fingers for good measure.
“Only if my gardener had the taste and money to buy his clothes from the Jermyn Street tailors favored by my valet,” he replied, grinning and pulling on his jacket. “Anyway, are you entirely sure you are one to lecture me on correct forms of dress, Miss Holt?” He raised a questioning eyebrow.
Cecily flushed, sure that he was picturing her naked and lost in exquisite abandon. Well, there was nothing she could do to prevent that now. She had actively participated in the game and undeniably enjoyed it. She could only hope that he would tire of his teasing.
After a quick breakfast, they headed straight to the carriage, where Mrs. Barnes greeted them and reviewed the preparations and packed goods.
“Good luck, Miss Holt,” she said sincerely. “I hope you find your sister soon, and that we have both of you back here before long—and well married too. It’s been too long since Greyhaven Park had a mistress, and if any man ever needed a wife…”
Although he smiled indulgently at the old woman, the Duke also raised his hand to stop her at this point. He might be fond of her, but he was not willing to listen to what he did not want to hear.
“Thank you, Mrs. Barnes. You can be sure that I shall take good care of Miss Holt and make her the Duchess of Greyhaven as soon as I can.”
He handed Cecily into the carriage and climbed in after her. Impulsively, Cecily leaned back to the window and addressed Mrs. Barnes.
“Tell Lady Lilian that I will bring her father back as soon as I can.”
“That I will, Miss Holt,” the housekeeper confirmed with a smile. “Have no fear.”
As she sat back in her seat, Cecily was almost pleased to see the consternation on the Duke’s face.
So, here was something that was not just a game to him.
* * *
“Look! Your coat of arms!” Cecily exclaimed, flinging open the door and jumping down without waiting for assistance from either the driver or the Duke.
It seemed too good to be true. At the very first crossroads where they stopped and asked a farmer about recent travelers, they had learned that a carriage matching this description had passed the farm yesterday.
Now, having proceeded to a coaching inn at the next likely stopping point, here was the very carriage in question.
Cecily ran over to the unharnessed vehicle in the inn’s stable yard and peered inside to be sure. It was completely empty of both people and luggage.
“There’s no one here,” she muttered, disappointed. “They’ve probably changed carriage here.”
“They might still be inside,” the Duke answered. “I’ll make inquiries.”
After briefly considering this possibility, Cecily hurried after him through the inn’s front door, her heart pounding and practical questions flooding her mind.
What would they do if Patrick and Mary had taken a room together here, unmarried? Would they have to escort the errant couple all the way to Scotland to oversee their wedding? Would the Duke really go to that effort, given his lax views on the precise order of wedding ceremonies and consummation?
Inside the inn, a few travelers were breakfasting, a maid was sweeping the floor, and a portly man of around fifty—presumably the innkeeper—was arranging clean glasses and plates on shelves.
“Aye, the young man hired a carriage and told me to send your carriage back to Greyhaven Park, Your Grace,” the stout innkeeper revealed. “I trust there is nothing amiss?”
“Did he pay the bill for the carriage and horses and the work on your stable?” the Duke asked bluntly. “No? I suppose he wanted it sent to me.”
“He did say to send it to Greyhaven Park,” the innkeeper admitted, a little defensively now. “He said he was your brother.”
“He is my brother,” the Duke sighed. “Damn his teeth. Give me the bill, and I’ll settle it immediately if you tell me in which direction they went.”
“North by the main road, Your Grace,” the innkeeper answered swiftly, retrieving a piece of paper from a spike on a shelf and taking a pencil from behind his ear to jot a few further notes.
Seeing the expression on the Duke’s face, the innkeeper seemed to think better of adding anything and handed the bill over as it was.
“Did they say where they were going?” Cecily asked, stepping forward beside the Duke.
“To Scotland, according to the young lady,” the innkeeper answered, regarding her curiously. “Is she a relative of yours, miss? She seemed very young.”
“My wife has an interest in the young lady. Let us leave it at that,” the Duke interjected, laying down sufficient coins on the counter to cover Patrick’s expenses, and another small pile beside it.
The innkeeper’s face grew chastened, and he bowed his head to Cecily in apology. Whether for his form of address or his speculation, she didn’t know.
“Begging your pardon, Your Grace. I didn’t realize.”
Cecily shook her head graciously, not trusting herself to speak at this moment.
“Thank you for your assistance, my good man,” the Duke said breezily. “Now, we must be on the road again. How long will it take for fresh horses to be hitched? I trust this will cover the costs.”
He waved his hand at the second pile of coins, evidently accustomed to having his wishes obeyed. As Cecily knew all too well.
Do not think about that right now!
“We’ll see to it straight away, Your Grace,” the innkeeper responded, gathering up the money eagerly and ringing a bell for assistance. “Would you like refreshment while you wait?”
“No, we’ll be outside. Come, Duchess.”
Cecily had no choice but to follow the Duke back into the courtyard. Why must he always be playing some game?
“Why did you tell him that I was your wife?” she hissed once they were out of earshot. “There was no need to lie, and you should not have done it.”
The Duke shrugged and beckoned her around the side of the stable yard, where at least they would not be observed by anyone emerging from the inn.
“I don’t care what I should have done,” he stated bluntly.
“That man was too curious about our business, and it was the best way to shut him up. I assume you don’t want every gossip from here to London knowing that both of the Holt sisters are currently keeping company with men they are not married to. ”
Cecily closed her mouth. No, she did not want that, and the Duke had acted with discretion. But still, his assertion irked her in some way. He presumed far too much, even if she had accepted his proposal.
“Anyway, I felt like it,” he added, only riling her further. “You will be my wife soon enough, and these people might as well know you as my Duchess now. We are both of age, and there is no reason to hide our engagement or delay our marriage.”
“What about how I feel?” Cecily snapped. “I am not your wife yet, and it made me feel… dishonest, and vulnerable, and…”
“You are thinking about what we did last night, aren’t you?” the Duke asked softly, stepping closer. “I believe you know you are already mine, Cecily, but you will not feel truly at ease until you are in my bed with my ring on your finger.”
“You are outrageous!” Cecily huffed, her breathing unsteady and her heart hammering in her chest. “I have never heard such indelicate things in my life.”
“Outrageous to look forward to bedding my wife?” the Duke chuckled.
“There’s not a man in England who would think so, Miss Holt.
Nor do you really object to my supposed indelicacies, as you term them.
I only speak honestly of mutual desire. You are only repeating what society would have you say.
Think how good you felt last night when I showed you how to touch yourself. ”
“This is not a game, and I am not a toy!” Cecily objected crossly, not wanting to remember the powerful sensations that had coursed through her body and rendered her helpless.
The Duke leaned in. “Life is a game,” he whispered in her ear. “You are far more than a toy, however. You are the most sensual and responsive woman I have ever met.”
She shuddered with desire as his lips and tongue brushed her ear, and his hand pushed away a golden-brown curl from her face.
“You see? You are excited by my slightest touch, Miss Holt, and this is only the beginning. Admit it; enjoy it. I know I shall.”
“I can’t,” Cecily protested unconvincingly, caught in the inexorable pull of his body so near to hers, breathing in the scent of woody cologne on his warm skin. “I mustn’t…”
“Then I shall have to command you again next time, won’t I?” the Duke purred. “Perhaps that makes it easier for you to accept the pleasure I offer.”
“We are not married,” she reminded him, trying to make herself step back, but her limbs were uncooperative even though he was doing nothing to restrain her. “We should not even be speaking of these things, Your Grace.”
“Be still,” the Duke told her, cupping her face in his hand and looking into her eyes with a very intense blue gaze. “You are as good as my wife already, and part of you knows it.”
At those words, Cecily gasped as a powerful throb of pleasure shot to her core. As the Duke had instructed, she remained still when he took her into his arms and drew her against his strong torso.
Dear God, it was worse than last night. At least they had been alone in a candlelit bedroom and not outside in broad daylight.
“That’s right,” the Duke whispered, trailing a finger across her lips. “Look up at me, just like that. I’m going to kiss you now.”
Then, he lowered his lips to hers and set her on fire. The heat of that first kiss shot through her like a lightning bolt, and her passionate response to him could not be restrained. Right or wrong, wise or unwise, she wanted this. She wanted him, wherever that led.
Following his lead, her tongue danced with his, and her hands grabbed at his waistcoat and his shirt under the still-unbuttoned jacket. Then, her fingers tangled in his unruly hair, holding his head to hers for ever deeper and more unrestrained kisses.
They were so distracted that they did not hear the clatter of the approaching carriage or the disagreement of its occupants until its wheels were pulling into the stable yard and nearly upon them.
“There, I’ve brought you back, damn it all! I hope you’re happy now.”
“You have only done what a gentleman should. Do you want credit for that? You’re like a boy, not a man.”
“Ha! You call me childish when you cried on the road.”
“You beast! How was I to know it was so far away?”
Cecily and the Duke quickly pulled apart upon hearing the voices. Cecily read from his expression that he also recognized one of the speakers.
“Mary?” she gasped.