Chapter Four
Shaw Manor hunting box
Near Leicestershire, England
Eloise groaned as she came awake. The sound of rain falling against the roof above her head reminded her that the weather recently had been so very wretched.
But then other things pressed into her consciousness, little things that made absolutely no sense—the scratch of a tree branch against the window glass, the song of a bird she’d never heard before in London, the scent in the air that smelled somehow fresher than she was used to.
When she stirred and struggled into a sitting position, the world around her spun and tilted a bit and her head felt woozy. The longer she sat on the edge of the bed, the more those sensations faded. Fresh air came into the room from a slightly opened window and that helped as well.
Intrigued yet concerned, she left the bed and padded over to the window.
Though it was raining, she was definitely not in London.
A heavily wooded area met her gaze full of all sorts of deciduous and coniferous trees.
The pungent scents of pine and growing things wafted to her nose through the petrichor of the rain.
A glance around the bedchamber showed a sumptuous and luxurious room.
In fact, the tick mattress and down-stuffed pillows had been like sleeping on clouds.
The damask counterpane of ivory and navy stripes was suitable for both male or female guests.
Besides the bed, the room held a comfortable-looking winged-back chair in navy, ivory drapes, a small writing secretary, a shelf full of bric-a-brac and books, and at the far corner, a wooden privacy screen painted ivory hid a washbasin and everything a person would need for morning ablutions and doing the necessary.
What had happened to her?
Returning to the bed, she crawled back into it and burrowed beneath the bedclothes.
Someone had removed her half-boots… A gasp escaped her.
Good heavens, that horrible scene in Regent Park where the Duke of Blackhawke had kissed her.
The memories flooded her fuzzy brain in quick succession—the violation of her breast, the duke’s knee between her legs, the odd attraction she’d felt between flashes of anger and fear, being caught in such a scandalous position and the embarrassment that followed.
Heat infused her cheeks. Then his announcement they were engaged.
Was that true, or had he said that to make her afraid? Eloise’s limbs were heavy and lethargic when she turned over onto her side. Clearly, he’d taken her hostage, but how? In this moment, she didn’t know where she was, so escape would prove futile without at least the most basic information.
Not long after those thoughts raced through her mind, the door to the room flew open and the duke himself strode in without knocking. “Ah, good, you’re finally awake.”
Despite the fact that the reverberations from his deep voice tickled through her chest, she couldn’t forget that he’d trespassed on her person and whisked her away from her own life. Once more, she threw off the bedclothes and swung her legs over the side of the bed. “Where am I?”
“My hunting lodge near Leicestershire.” He closed the door behind him.
Well, that wasn’t so far from London, but escaping from this place might prove problematic. “Why?”
“Because I can.” The duke crossed his arms at his chest and leaned a shoulder against the wall.
“And if you think to escape, the official hunting season hasn’t yet begun, there is no one around.
Unless you want to hunt some varieties of ducks, there isn’t much to do in the area, and none of my closest neighbors are in residence. ”
Knots of worry pulled in her belly. “Surely, the servants…?”
“Are loyal to me. They have been apprised of your presence and they know you are my fiancée—albeit reluctantly—and they also know not to interfere in my business.” One of his blond eyebrows rose, but it only drew her attention to the twisted flesh of the crescent-shaped scar on his left cheek.
“Consider this time together as a preview, to see if you’ll retain your spirit or not. ”
That sounded far too ominous. “I want to go home. My father will wonder what became of me. He’ll summon Bow Street.” At least, she hoped.
“Not a chance.” The duke shook his head. “You started this mess; you’ll see it through.”
Hot annoyance swelled in her chest. So much so that she left the security of the bed, but that proved a mistake, for he pushed off the wall and prowled slowly toward her. “Why would you kidnap me? It’s the height of illegal.”
“I’m a duke.” Clearly, he thought much of himself and assumed his title gave him carte blanche to do whatever he pleased.
Dressed in navy breeches and a fine lawn shirt that billowed at the arms which he’d rolled to the elbows, he was every inch a dark, brooding man.
The strength of his forearms and the fairly wide chest sent a shiver of something down her spine. “And we are engaged.”
As if that explained everything. “Forced engagement that I never agreed to.” Eloise frowned.
Despite the odd and highly inappropriate attraction fairly crackling between them, heated anger still rushed through her chest. “What did you do to me? I’m quite certain I would never have gone willingly with you.
Anywhere.” As she spoke, she scuttled around the bed, trying to put distance between them.
“I gave you brandy in my carriage.” The duke shrugged. “I laced it with laudanum that I always keep with me for the pain in my leg.”
That was surprising, but perhaps he was just devious like that. “I went unconscious, so you must have put a large dose in the brandy.” It wasn’t a question.
“Perhaps, but we had a quiet trip, and you were more easily conveyed that way.”
Was that an ordinary occurrence with this man? Another tremble moved down her spine, of fear this time. “Why did you bring me here?” Because everything was pressing in on her at the same time, Eloise shrank away from him when he prowled about the room in pursuit of her.
“To teach you a lesson.” Nothing in his expression gave away his thoughts.
“I’m not the one at fault here.” What an arrogant arse he was.
“I rather think you are. Daring to challenge me in a letter, asking me to meet you? Yes, you started it.”
“Um…” Every thought flew out of her head, but there was no more space to retreat from him, for he had her trapped against the wall between a shelf and a curio cabinet with no way around him.
“You don’t get to turn this back onto me.
I want revenge for what you did to my fiancé.
” Though she was frightened there was something about him she couldn’t deny, a power he exuded, a curiosity, and an attraction definitely.
“I wanted to be left alone, but you ruined that. So tit for tat.”
“But I—”
He pounced, then, effectively interrupting her, bundled her into his arms and then shuttled her to the bed, where he summarily tossed her onto it.
A squeal escaped her, born of fear and surprise. Since her limbs were still heavy and lethargy lingered, her reactions weren’t as sharp as they could have been, so when he joined her on the bed, covered her body with his, she was stunned for a few seconds.
That gave him an opening. The duke kissed her, hard and unyielding, and all she could think of was that time in France years ago when she was forced…
“No.” Eloise fought him, tried to push him away, but he was much stronger and larger than she was.
“You are mine now, Miss March. These are the consequences.” As he spoke, Blackhawke held her wrists in one hand like he had at the park. Fear twisted down her spine.
“Please don’t do this. I can’t…” It put her back to that time in France where every nightmare she’d ever had stemmed from.
“You don’t have the right to ask favors of me, and since we were interrupted in the park, we can finish it here.”
The reverberations from his tone tickled through her chest and sent awareness rippling over her skin.
Still, she shivered from fear. “I fought you then and I will now.” When she tried to get a knee between his legs, he wasn’t having any of it, blocked her at every turn.
“We can pretend it never happened. Just send me home.”
“We are beyond that.” Something flickered in his eyes that she couldn’t read, but those sapphire pools were a bit magnetic and invited her to submit.
“The news of our engagement has no doubt burned through society thanks to Lady Jersey’s gossip, so now you officially belong to me, and since I’m a duke, I’ll take what I damn well please. ”
“But…” The urge to free herself guided her actions. She squirmed beneath him, yet he was quite unyielding.
“Damn it, woman. Stop that.” With a curse he straddled her waist, growling when she beat her fists against his chest. “We are trapped in this engagement together, so this is our new reality.” When she ignored him, he wrenched off the length of his loose cravat then used it to bind her wrists to the wooden slats of the headboard.
“You have poked and prodded the beast, now you’ll reap that consequence. ”
Terror made her shake, but there was an odd curiosity flowing through her at the feeling of being bound by her wrists. There was a certain anticipation that she hadn’t expected. “Please listen to me, Your Grace.”
“Relax, Miss March. I’m not going to fuck you today. At least not in the usual way.”
Before she could question him, he scooted down her body a bit and then kissed her again, with the same intensity and punishing feel that he had the last time.
The firmness of his lips framed hers. He moved over hers with a precision and skill that made her think he had had many women in his bed over the years.
As he probed the seam of her mouth with the tip of his tongue, demanding entrance, she fought for as long as she could, but it was already a losing battle… and damn her eyes, she was curious.
So she opened and let him in.