Chapter 7
Cordelia froze, wondering if she was in a dream.
This couldn’t be real. The Duke of Meinster could not be kissing her, his hand firm on her waist, the scent of him intoxicating, his lips so very soft.
But he was, and when he stepped even closer, his whole body pressed against her, she surprised herself by fluttering her eyes closed and wrapping her arms around his neck.
He made a slight groan against her mouth, and with heat moving through her at lightning speed, she opened her mouth to him in response.
Another groan came from deep inside him, and Cordelia’s skin flushed with the delight of it.
His lips were so very soft but also very expert.
They moved across her mouth with ease and practice, the tip of his tongue tentatively seeking out her own.
This time, it was her moan that filled her ears as she allowed him in. Cordelia had never been kissed before.
And this was no chaste kiss. Her every fiber was sparking into life, and her muscles softened as she leaned against him for support.
She wanted more, so much more, and her arms tightened about his neck, drawing him ever closer.
No one had ever evoked such pleasure from her before; she thought she might die without it being brought forth to its fullest. She was breathless when his kiss moved from her mouth to the edge of her jaw and down her neck.
She shivered when she felt his warm breath against her ear, and he whispered, “Do you still think me an honorable man, love?”
It was as if a bucket of cold water had been thrown over her. With an indignant gasp, she pushed against him, and she found him to be smirking at her, while she covered her mouth in horror of what she’d done.
Had it all been a trick? Simply to make a point?
Embarrassment flooded her. She had played right into his hands.
“So, this was all to prove that you are as dastardly as I thought?”
“You do not think it, for you are trying to make me out as if I am some great savior. So let this be a warning to you that I am no white knight. You must know what sort of man you are marrying. I am a man who takes what he wants and when he wants it. That is how I built my gambling empire. I could not have done so by being honorable.”
He wanted me?
Her silly, girlish thoughts annoyed her, when she was attempting to be stern and solemn. But that kiss had thrown all good sense right out of her head, and she felt she needed just a few moments to collect herself.
“I see. Well, you certainly did not need to go so far as that in order to prove your point.”
His eyes moved to her mouth again, and Cordelia wanted to scream for how her body suddenly reacted to him, as if it forgot the embarrassment right then and there.
“I most certainly did. For I may have been proving a point, but why not enjoy oneself while you do it?”
Cordelia could feel her face reddening, but she chalked it up to the pure rage filling her.
“You are loathsome!” she cried.
“Good to hear you say it, love. And now that I am taking you as my wife and I will be helping your family, that means you belong to me. I will provide for them, of course, but you mustn’t take it as kindness.
Simply because I will not allow my dead best friend’s children to starve does not make me a good man. ”
Cordelia frowned at him. The man was infuriating and simply determined to refuse a compliment as well as have anyone believe anything beyond his brutishness.
Well, she was happy to accommodate him. She was only surprised at his sudden change in behavior to take care of her family, to marry her to help the children.
But apparently, no honor was to be found.
“Do not worry, Your Grace. I will not make that same mistake again.”
She crossed her arms, and he clapped his hands together and grinned widely. “Excellent! Then we are in accord. Our first agreement as a couple.”
She groaned aloud and stalked away from him, eager to be as far away as possible.
“It is not an agreement,” she cried from where she led down the path.
She gasped when he caught up with her with ease, sidling in next to her once more.
His voice low, he said, “You seemed to be very keen to agree with me on anything in that moment, my dear.”
Cordelia closed her eyes and spent a few fevered seconds attempting to wish herself away from that moment, from that place, from the time that she gave into a foolish kiss from the very last gentleman she should have.
But when she opened them again, he was still there, and she could practically feel him smiling.
“I will not even grace that foolish statement with an answer.”
“Very good then. Very wise and sensible,” he teased. He paused at the edge of the garden, moving in front of her before she could continue on ahead of him. “Remember what I said, love. I am no honorable man.”
“No, you are not. And stop calling me love! I am not your love!”
She tried to push against him again, and before she could, he grasped her hand, and to her horror, he rubbed his thumb across the back of it and pressed a kiss to the soft skin, his eyes not leaving hers.
Her mind willed her to refuse him, to make her hand move out of his grasp, but it would not. In that moment, with her blood high, and her body full of unfulfilled pleasure, her mind was no longer the one in control. All she could will herself to think was how stark blue his eyes were.
“Of course you aren’t,” he said. “A business arrangement is all it is. Just my favorite sort of thing.” He dropped her hand. “I’ll see you at the wedding –” he paused. “Cord.”
And then before she could gather herself to consider throwing something at him, he was gone.
After a few moments as she took a steadying breath or two, she hurried after him, for she could not let him have the last word, but then she stubbed her toe on an errant stone and swore in a whisper as a jolt of pain rushed through her.
By the time she looked up toward the street, his carriage had already left.
Cordelia leaned back against the wall of the house and looked up to heaven for strength. She took a deep breath.
That kiss can most assuredly never happen again.
She promised herself as best she could, but she could not shake the feeling of rightness it had been inside his arms, his lips against hers. It made no sense, though. He who was so unkind and cruel and had kissed hundreds of women before.
“Perhaps that is part of his allure. He knew how to kiss well, and he made every woman feel as though she is the only woman in the world.” Her brow furrowed as she thought about that. “How could a person do that?”
“Do what?”
Cordelia jumped when she heard Emma’s voice breaking into her frustrated reverie.
“Good grief, you nearly frightened me to death!”
“I’m sorry, Cord,” Emma said regretfully. “The duke is gone. He took his leave and refused tea.”
“Good.” Cordelia straightened and took Emma’s arm, heading back to the house. “He may be my future husband, but I do not have to sit down to tea with him until after we are wed. And perhaps not even then.”
Emma chuckled. “You certainly react strongly to him. I’d never seen it in action so closely before, but he does have a way.”
“He certainly does, and he is rather smug about it!” Cordelia said, feeling the color rising in her cheeks, hoping and praying none of her family had seen the kiss.
“Well, he did tell us on his way out that he’s gotten a special license from the Archbishop of Canterbury. You are to marry in a week’s time.”
“A week,” Cordelia breathed, standing at the back gate of her home with her sister. “A week until I am the Duchess of Meinster.”
“Yes. Rather grand, isn’t it?” Emma said kindly, leading her in through the door into the quiet of the house. “You will be perfect, Cord. A perfect duchess and a perfect mother.”
“You believe in me too well, Em.”
“What are sisters for?” Emma kissed her on the cheek. A call from their mother had them hurrying away towards the sitting room.
* * *
The next morning Cordelia rose early just as dawn began to break, and she took a pencil and a notebook into the garden and sat.
It was one of her favorite pastimes. No one was yet awake, and now that the family was down to only two servants, the house was not as noisy as it once had been.
She sat on one of the stone benches in the garden and listened to the sounds of birdsong and the sounds of London waking up.
Normally, she enjoyed writing but that morning, it felt too tiresome of a task.
There was too much to feel, too much to write down.
She thought of the children, how they would never understand at that age that their parents were not coming home, and how they must have been frightened of their grandfather as they awaited her to retrieve them.
She also thought of the watch that her mother had sold.
She’d not yet said anything to her mother, but she had to get it back; she had to set things right.
Not only that, but last night had been a torment full of heated dreams of stubbled chins and soft lips, the press of hands against her waist, and the scent of woodsmoke in her nose.
Cordelia closed her eyes. Never before had the duke kept her awake.
He was now annoying her without even being present.
And then thoughts of dear Helen came to her mind. It made her lip quiver and her chest ache.
What would you have me do, Helen? Can I really marry him?
But of course, silly! He is much better than you think and much better than he wishes for anyone to believe. He will surprise you.
It was something she’d heard from Helen a number of times, that Nicholas was far better than she thought, though Cordelia had never been able to believe it. Opening her eyes, she noticed the oak tree at the far end of the garden, beyond which she and the duke had committed their dark deed.
“But I think I will surprise you at every turn.”