Chapter 7
Imust avoid him!
A full day had passed since Lavinia had emerged from the maze, and yet she could not forget how she felt when she had been left alone with the Duke.
She recalled the way his thumb had brushed over her cheek, and she had nearly lost herself in the hypnotic light brown pools that were his eyes.
But must I really? Could I not see him again briefly?
Lavinia stabbed the nib of her quill into the piece of parchment that sat on her writing desk.
She had been trying to stop thinking about the Duke by writing a letter to one of her friends in Scotland, Miss Siobhan Kelley, but she had not penned much more than the salutation. The trouble was that her mind kept drifting back to the garden.
He is… devastatingly handsome. And if we were to share one kiss… one sweet, simple kiss… how bad could that really be?
Almost immediately, she shook off the ridiculous notion. She knew instinctively that if she kissed the Duke, her feelings thereafter would not be simple. And the kiss itself would most likely not be sweet.
Wicked…
That was what she had asked him to show her. A bit of wickedness.
Lavinia shook her head, wishing she could forget her own folly.
I seek romance, love, the sort of adoration that will last for years.
She remembered the way her parents looked in their anniversary portrait.
Could the Duke ever look at me like that? As a lady worthy of love, respect, and affection?
She crumpled the parchment into a ball and then tossed it carelessly over her shoulder. She knew the answers to her questions.
The Duke of Pemberton was not the man she wanted or needed him to be. She had not waited so long, withdrawn from Society and come to the country, so that she could give herself to someone like him. Even if his roguish smile did make her heart skip a beat.
She pushed away from her writing desk and paced around her bedchambers. When her eyes fell on the diamond necklace her father had gifted her, her heart sank.
Must I rejoin the house party? Do I really need to continue going through the motions of this celebration?
Socializing with the most established and most arrogant gentlemen in Society had quite drained the life from her.
The constant trading of stories of their travels, finances, and estates had exhausted all her energy.
Their constant need to prove themselves while deluging her with all sorts of compliments had her hoping that she would miraculously find a gentleman somewhere in the crowd and that he would take her away to somewhere quiet and peaceful.
But that thought quickly left her mind. It was a mere spot of wishful thinking.
Lavinia plopped down on her inviting bed. She stared at the ceiling, tracing the faint patterns at the edges of her vision. The candles in the chandelier reminded her vaguely of the candle the Duke had held when they’d first met.
“Ugh…” she groaned as she tried to close her eyes and block out the memories.
But the Duke’s chamber was all she could see. An image of his bare torso flashed through her mind. There was something in the air that blew a gentle heat in her chest. Her core tingled. His voice mumbled her name in her mind, and she almost felt his soft breath against her ear.
Lavinia was bewildered by this sudden fire in her heart. She was filled with a desire that was so foreign yet seemed so familiar when she thought of him. Suddenly, she wanted him close, closer than he ever had been that night or had been in the maze.
Her chest grew heavy, and her breathing quickened.
She closed her eyes, picturing him. She remembered how he touched her waist. A short memory of that night sent a thrill through her.
Soon, she touched the places he did. She brushed her fingers against her lips and then slowly but gently bit them.
She gasped and bit her lower lip. It felt unusual but right.
“Peter,” she gasped as she imagined his bare chest.
Her hands trailed over her soft skin. It was the first time she felt like herself. It was awakening.
Lavinia imagined him touching her as she let her hands wander.
Soon, she found her thighs. A different kind of heat lingered when she skimmed her thumbs over the tops of her stockings.
Finally, her hands moved between her legs, her fingers softly rubbing against her sex.
She panted as her fingers worked in a way she had not previously dared.
Then, just as suddenly as she had started this bit of exploration, she stopped.
She quickly got up from her bed, catching her breath. She knew she needed to get out and take in the air.
Lady St. Vincent was right once again; it was better to keep her distance from the rakish Duke. Whatever he was making her feel, she knew it was dangerous for her.
The sky was awfully gloomy by midday. Lavinia hoped it would not rain, as it would ruin her afternoon walk. Being outside would clear her mind of her sensual imaginings.
All of the guests seemed to have continued their conversations in the drawing room, as the garden had already been cleared of people. Lavinia felt victorious for her perfect timing. She had always loved good company, but she would also appreciate a respite from the endless chatter.
But it seemed that her luck was just as faint as the sun in the sky, and suffering was once more written in her destiny.
She let out a heavy sigh when she heard someone approach, and to make it worse, Lord Windham appeared in front of her.
“Miss Fitzroy, I was hoping for a chance to speak with you,” he began.
Lavinia felt the need to escape as she noticed him getting closer. She was annoyed by the way he had spoken to her mother about her nocturnal movements and did not wish to be anywhere near him.
He smiled feebly. “I must say… you are quite radiant. You shine brighter than the sun this afternoon.”
“It’s also good to see you, Lord Windham.” Lavinia curtsied and then attempted to escape.
However, Lord Windham quickly caught her hand. She was startled slightly by his touch, but would not be outdone. Just as swiftly, she forced a smile and withdrew her hand from his grasp.
“Shall we take a turn about the gardens together then?” he suggested.
“I do not think…” She started to craft a reason as to why she wanted to walk alone, but he spoke over her.
“I wished to remain by your side yesterday, but my plans were thwarted by the Duke of Pemberton.” His tone changed.
Lord Windham displayed something other than hesitation and chagrin now. He seemed utterly perturbed when he mentioned the Duke.
Lavinia tried to look away, searching for someone to save her from the uncomfortable situation.
“I do not quite understand your point, My Lord.” She watched him closely. “The Duke did not thwart you or anyone else. I spent the afternoon with my good friend, Lady Madeline, and—”
“What do you like so much about the Duke, Miss Fitzroy?” Lord Windham asked in a tone that conveyed his dismay. “What does he have that I… that I…”
Fortunately, at that moment, Lavinia heard footsteps, and a group of gentlemen came into view.
Lord Windham suddenly squared his shoulders and shifted his focus to the group. She was glad that she was wrong in thinking that all the guests had decided to remain inside. She was grateful that this pack of gentlemen had rescued her from what was sure to be an unpleasant conversation.
“I have to take my leave, My Lord,” she quickly said. “The others are coming in our direction, and I don’t think I would fit into your group if I stayed.”
Lord Windham was left dumbfounded. “Well then, I don’t think I can prevent you from leaving, Miss Fitzroy,” he said, vexed.
“Goodbye,” she muttered and quickly turned in the opposite direction. She walked briskly away from the crowd.
Lavinia did not need to turn around to see the gentlemen gather. Even from afar, she could hear their banter and laughter.
She picked up speed and sprinted; she had no sense of direction, but the ground beneath her felt familiar. Soon, she found herself in an old little shed.
The shed stood beside a full-grown fig tree. Lavinia felt a rush of nostalgia as she walked towards it. She used to hide there when she was little. The door creaked loudly as she pushed it open.
As the door swung on its hinges, a familiar storage area welcomed her back. In the corner was her little library, where she used to read all the children’s books her father had brought home from his travels. A smile formed on her face as she felt peace coming back to her.
She picked up the books, trying to remember the stories in them. She opened the covers, skimming through the pages. She felt elated as the memories came back to her. She browsed through the books in front of her, unaware of how much time had passed.
When she started shivering, she realized that the day had slipped away from her.
Oh no! Mother must be looking for me.
Even though she wanted to just hide away and read like before, she knew she needed to come back to her current life. The tiny flame of joy in her chest quickly faded.
She walked to the door, but before she could give it a gentle shove, the hinges creaked and the late afternoon light filtered into the space.
Lavinia gasped in surprise. It was impossible; nobody would ever come here unless someone was collecting the mallets for pall mall. And with that, she remembered there was a pall mall event that day.
“Oh, apologies, I did not expect someone would be here.” Suddenly, a remarkably familiar voice filled the shed.
Lavinia was still taken aback and failed to respond.
The Duke came in quickly and closed the door behind him. “Oh, it is you, Miss Fitzroy,” he said, surprised.
“Y-yes, it is I,” she stammered. “What are you doing here?” she asked, even though she had already figured it out.
He looked around the room. “I was just going to grab some mallets for the game. It hasn’t started yet if you’re wondering. I wanted to see the mallets myself, so I could decide which to use,” he explained.
“Well, I must tell you, it’s not about the mallets. You either have skills or you are deficient,” she retorted.
The Duke gave her a puzzled look. “I guess you don’t play that much if that is what you believe, Miss Fitzroy,” he remarked.
Lavinia inhaled, calming herself. “I do not need to prove myself to you, Your Grace.” She tilted her chin up so that she could stare the length of her nose down at him. “As it happens, I do quite enjoy a game of pall mall from time to time. However, I do not like to complicate things as you do.”
“I am not complicating anything, Miss Fitzroy. I am only explaining to you that a mallet could be a variable in winning the game,” he countered, seemingly amused by the conversation.
Lavinia felt her cheeks warm. She gave him a quick glance, catching a smirk on his face. “I am not the kind to belittle your little superstitions, Your Grace, but a talented player does not need great equipment. You can win at anything if you are good enough,” she said.
She knew she was right.
“Do you want to bet on it?” the Duke challenged.
Lavinia paused.
He was an arrogant man, that much she already knew. But now she knew that he was also a competitive man.
She stared at him, contemplating whether it would be worth betting. She chewed on her lower lip as she considered the outcome of making such a wager.
What should I ask him to give me if I win?
And then a more unsettling thought occurred to her.
What will he want from me if he wins?