A Duchess Enraged (26 page)

“God, you’re good,”
panted Adam. His hands slid down to cup her bare buttocks, and then he was
pounding into her, holding her steady against the wall, suckling on her breast
as he withdrew and slid back in, each stroke filled with all his pent-up anger
and desire. Allegra, too overwhelmed to think, responded to the dictates of her
body, wrapping her legs around his waist so as to draw him in deeper, her
fingers pressing into his shoulders, holding him, urging him forward. Each
desperate stroke was like a caress, filling her, making her complete. She gave
herself up entirely to Adam, urging him on with the eager sounds that erupted
from her throat. Soon, too soon, she felt the coil deep in her stomach begin to
unwind, the roaring rush of her climax descending on her. While she welcomed
the release, she also sought to hold it off, knowing that with it, Adam would
withdraw, that this wonderful closeness would end.

“No,” she cried out.
“No, I can’t.”

“Let yourself go,”
muttered Adam in her ear. He shifted slightly and pushed in even deeper.
“You’re so beautiful when you do.”

 With a wordless cry
she went over the edge, shock waves tearing through her as her climax was
sustained endlessly as Adam held her down on his erection, pressing forward,
seeking to go deeper. She shook all over, her head falling back, her grip
loosening, her lips moving soundlessly as the dark wave overtook her. Finally,
as the last shocks ebbed away, Adam allowed his own release, pumping up into
her, releasing a torrent of seed, his knees almost buckling at the fierce
pleasure that shook him. Then, to both their amazement, he felt Allegra’s
climax begin again as her body responded to his. She seized his face between
her hands, kissing him with thoughtless abandon as they climaxed together,
soaring to new, never-before-experienced heights.

After a long time it
was over, and they stood together, Allegra still pressed against the wall by
Adam’s body, his forehead resting on the wall above her head. Allegra, suddenly
embarrassed by her situation, made a fluttering motion with her hands, and Adam
stepped away, gazing down at her with re-awakened mistrust as he hastily
refastened his breeches. She was so beautiful, so sensual, her lips swollen
from his kisses, her hair tumbling down about her shoulders, her white breast
still peeping above her neckline. How many men had seen her this way, he
thought morosely. How could so much passionate energy be contained?

Allegra hastily
pulled up the neck of her gown, and tried half-heartedly to smooth the wrinkles
from her skirt. She could feel the silken remnants of his ejaculation on her
thighs, and she closed her eyes, wondering if this time she was pregnant. She
didn’t know if she would welcome it or not. To have Adam’s baby would be a
wonderful thing, but not if he didn’t love her and cherish her, not if the baby
was the only thing he wanted from her. Forcing herself to return to reality,
she raised her hands to her hair, hoping to salvage her coiffure.

“Don’t,” said Adam
suddenly. “You look wonderful.”

Allegra raised her eyes
and looked up at him, searching his face for some sign of his feelings. She saw
only confusion and regret in his green eyes. “You don’t have to say pretty
things to make me feel better,” she answered, trying not to let her voice
shake. “I know how you feel about me.”

“It’s what a
gentleman does,” answered Adam, rebuffed by the rebuke in her voice. After what
they had just shared, was it too much to ask that she show some tenderness
towards him? Was their coupling just one of many to her, a way to satisfy her
body that didn’t touch her heart?

Allegra closed her
eyes and took a deep breath. The lovemaking that had just taken place had been
both exhilarating and heart breaking. It had been marvelous to be back in
Adam’s arms, but her response to him, in comparison to her inability to respond
to Tristan, had terrified her. She needed and wanted Adam desperately, but if
this was all he wanted from her, she couldn’t stand it. To be nothing more than
an occasional receptacle for his lust, to have him take her to dizzying heights
and then walk away, was worse than being parted from him.

“Save your sweet
words for Lady Manning,” she answered, her voice without inflection. “No doubt
she will appreciate them. But you’ve used me like a whore, and I doubt even a
gentleman wastes his sentiments on a woman of that stamp.”

“I used you?” Adam’s
tone carried an undercurrent of anger. “You seemed willing enough.”

“Oh, I was,” Allegra
shot back. “You can make me want you, Adam, whether I wish to or not.”

“And what is so wrong
with wanting your husband? Isn’t that how it should be? If you’re willing to
share yourself with any man, why shouldn’t I have you as well?”

Allegra flinched at
the accusation of infidelity, and his callous turn of phrase. True, she had led
him to believe she was being unfaithful in an attempt to get some measure of
revenge for his involvement with Louisa. But why was he so willing to believe
it, and why did he seem so angered by it, when he clearly didn’t care for her?
“Go away, Adam,” she said softly. “I can’t do this anymore. Go back to your
pretty mistress and forget about me.”

“With pleasure.”
Adam’s tone was like ice. When she had been in his arms, in the throes of
passion, she had seemed warm and generous. But now the cold-hearted woman he
had come to know had returned, and seemed completely uninterested in sharing
anything more than her passion with him. He felt as though the final brick had
been laid in the wall that separated them. Whatever Allegra’s motivations were,
he couldn’t figure them out. He turned on his heel and strode towards the door,
anxious to be out of her tantalizing presence.

“Adam.”

He stopped at the
sound of her voice calling his name softly. “What?” he asked without turning
around. If he had to look at her again he would probably take her in his arms
and make a total fool of himself.

“For what it’s worth,
I’ve never had anyone but you.” She held her breath after speaking the words,
waiting for some reaction. It had been hard to say the words, fearing his
laughter or rejection. But after all the anger and deceit between them, now,
after their passion had stripped them bare, seemed the time for honesty.

She thought she saw a
quiver run through Adam’s frame, but then, without a word, he stepped forward
and left the room, leaving her still standing against the wall. Wearily she
straightened herself and walked to the couch, where she collapsed, too
exhausted to even shed tears. It was over, she thought. She had to find a way
out, to get away from Adam forever. This last rejection had been final, she was
sure. And she couldn’t stay with him, hanging about, hoping for a kind word or
a smile, giving herself up to the occasional night of torrid lovemaking, only
to have him pull away again. Something had to be done.

In the ballroom,
Tristan leaned against a wall, his arms folded over his chest, a brooding look
on his face. He ignored the admiring glances women cast at him from time to
time as they sought to attract the attention of the notorious Lord Gresham.
Indeed, he barely saw the colorful crowd that swirled in front of him. His
thoughts were turned to the dark sitting room and the events that had just
occurred there. What was wrong with him, he wondered. Why had he backed away
when victory was at hand? She had been at his mercy, ripe for the taking. It
would have been so simple to overcome her scruples. Instead, he had run like a
frightened boy.

There was a rustle at
his elbow and he looked down into Louisa’s charming face. Her beauty was marred
by the frown creasing her brow, however, and she took his arm in a firm grip,
rising up on tiptoe, the better to whisper into his ear.

“What are you doing
here? Adam left the ballroom barely five minutes ago. He couldn’t possibly have
caught you in the act.”

“He didn’t,” replied
Tristan coolly. “There was no act to catch.”

“What does that mean?
Did you fail with the duchess, Tristan? I thought that you said you had this
all carefully planned.” Louisa’s face darkened, and her hand tightened on his
arm.

“I did. However,
matters don’t always go as we wish. The duchess, it seems, had other ideas.”

 “What are you
talking about? Did she refuse you?”

“She was most
apologetic about it, but yes, she refused me.” Tristan looked down into
Louisa’s furious eyes. “It seems she felt that it wasn’t the right thing for us
to be doing.”

“And when did that
ever matter to you?” Louisa glanced about to reassure herself that no one was
listening. “You should have forced her. It wouldn’t have been difficult; she’s
a tiny thing. All that mattered was that Adam catch her with you. I’ve filled
his head with enough stories about his wife that he would never believe her if
she said she was unwilling.”

A look of distaste
came over Tristan’s face and he peeled Louisa’s hand off his arm. “I don’t
force myself on women.”

Louisa made an
exasperated sound. “What does it matter, so long as we achieve our aims? It’s a
bit late to become chivalrous, Tristan. You set out on the course to punish
Gravesmere through his wife. Why the sudden acquisition of a conscience?”

Tristan shook his head.
“I have no idea. But, while I find it uncomfortable and annoying, it isn’t
nearly so unattractive as you are. I knew you were avaricious, Louisa, but do
you really want to ruin this woman for life? She‘s done you no harm.”

“She stole Gravesmere
from me!” Louisa snapped the words out, and then hastily lowered her voice
again. “I should be the duchess, not her.”

“She was married to
him long before you met Gravesmere,” countered Tristan. “You’re the one doing
the stealing.”

“It doesn’t matter
who was married first. The point is that Adam is mine, and I won’t let him go.
I’ve looked for this opportunity all my life, and I’m not going to let some
child stand in my way. Snap out of it, Tristan. We have a lot of work to do to
repair your stupid blunder.”

“I won’t be helping
you any longer, Louisa.” Tristan stepped away from her. “I don’t have the
stomach for it that you apparently do.”

“Are you in love with
the girl? Is that the problem? You must be getting old, Tristan.”

He hesitated,
pondering the question. “No, I’m not in love with her,” he said slowly. “But I
do like her, and I won’t be a part of this sick scheme any longer.”

Louisa sneered.
“Joining the angels, are you, Tristan?”

He bowed politely.
“Not at all. It just seems that I’m not quite so much of a devil as I had
imagined.”

He turned his back
and was gone, leaving Louisa alone in the glittering ballroom, her hands
clenched in rage.

The Proof is in the
Pudding

Adam sat at his desk
in the library, his golden head resting in his hands. It throbbed faintly, and
he cursed the brandy he had consumed the night before. But it was the only
thing that eased the pain he felt whenever he thought of Allegra. Being
anywhere near her was intolerable. Even when he had stumbled in early that
morning, drunk as he could be, all he could think of was her sleeping in the
room next to his, her fragrant body as soft as silk to the touch, of the
incredible way she had responded to him only hours before. It had taken all his
strength not to go into her room and plead with her to abandon her lover and be
true to him.

He sighed deeply. His
life was a shambles. If his encounter with Allegra the night before had taught
him one thing, it was that he could no longer be with Louisa. He had walked out
of the library and left the party without even returning to the ballroom. He
had had no desire to see Louisa, or talk to her, or to try to explain what had
happened. A pang of guilt shot through him. She was loyal and supportive, but
he thought only of a woman who wanted no part of him. It was a sickness, but
one that had no cure.

There was a knock at
the door, and Adam looked up as the butler entered. He carried a folded note on
a silver tray, which he presented with a flourish.

“I was given to
understand that this pertained to an urgent matter, Your Grace. Please forgive
the intrusion.”

Adam picked the note
up idly and nodded his thanks. It was probably from Louisa, he thought. She
doubtless wondered what had happened the night before, if he had discovered
Allegra with Gresham and now had his evidence so he could proceed with the
divorce. If she knew the real truth, she wouldn’t be happy.

He opened the note
absently and glanced down at it, but the writing was not Louisa’s. Adam spread
the page before him and gave it his full attention. It was from the retired Bow
Street Runner who now ran a discreet service for the nobility. Adam had
retained his services to obtain evidence of Allegra’s infidelity for his
divorce suit.

Your Grace,

If you will do me the
honor to let me know when it may be convenient for you to meet with me, I have
some information that you will find enlightening. I believe we have the
evidence you desire.

 Sincerely,

 A.G. Pemberton

Adam whistled softly
and sat back, the note cradled in his long fingers. The long sought evidence at
last. The news brought him no sense of elation; instead he felt strangely
hollow. Allegra’s parting words last night had given him pause, and he had
wondered, and even hoped, that perhaps he had wronged her. He had not been so
overtaken by passion the night before not to realize that Gresham hadn’t been
before him that evening. Maybe he had been mistaken in her after all. But he
now held in his hand proof positive that she was unfaithful. He swore and
crumpled the piece of paper. He didn’t want to go, to have it spelled out to
him that Allegra was a liar and a cheat. But to not go would be cowardly and to
admit that she had won. With a grimace he stood and left the library.

Half an hour later
Adam presented himself at the office of Mr. Pemberton. It was a discreet set of
rooms in a plain house, with no distinguishing characteristics whatsoever. Mr.
Pemberton’s stock in trade was anonymity, and it was this that allowed him and
his agents to move unseen among the members of the ton, making note of their
more disreputable behavior. Nothing the nobility did surprised Mr. Pemberton,
and when the Duke of Gravesmere appeared looking rumpled and angry, he made no
comment. He had seen far worse in his time.

“Good morning, Your
Grace,” he said, bowing low and ushering his guest to a brown leather chair.
“I’m pleased you could come so quickly.”

“Let’s get this over
with,” said Adam glumly. “What did you discover about my wife?”

“Well, she’s a clever
one,” answered Mr. Pemberton. “We’ve been watching her for over a week now and
she’d given us nothing to report. However she’s arranged to see her gentlemen,
she‘s been very crafty about it, indeed.” He made a temple with his fingers and
peered at Adam over it, his little eyes lit up with a spark of admiration. It
wasn’t often that his agents were fooled.

“That’s not what your
letter indicated,” said Adam. “I thought you had evidence to present to me.”

“Ah, yes. Despite her
cleverness, it seems the lady’s, ah, passion got away with her at last. She was
most indiscreet.” Mr. Pemberton tapped his fingers lightly on his desk. Most
indiscreet. My man witnessed the entire encounter.”

Adam suppressed a
shudder. The idea of Allegra cheating on him was horrible enough, without the
thought of a hired man witnessing it. “When did this happen?” he rasped.

“Last night. At the
Tremaine ball.”

Adam bit his lip.
Allegra had been busy indeed. She must have gone straight from his arms to
another man’s. It seemed he had simply warmed her up for someone else.

“Would you care to
know the details?” Mr. Pemberton held a sheet of paper in front of him, and
looked at Adam curiously over the top of it. The young duke seemed more
distressed than he had expected. He could hardly be shocked at the news. When
he had engaged Mr. Pemberton’s services he had seemed quite certain that his
wife was a notorious wanton and all he required was proof.

“Yes, certainly,”
answered Adam. It was too late to back out now.

“It seems she left
the ballroom in the company of a tall, dark nobleman and entered a small
sitting room located down a dark hallway. My man managed to slip in behind them
without being seen; quite a feat really.” Mr. Pemberton beamed with pride. “He
concealed himself behind a Japanese screen that sat in one corner of the room
and from there was able to make a series of observances, though he was unable
to hear any conversations.”

Adam nodded
brusquely. The gentleman was no doubt Gresham. Allegra must have sought him out
again in order to finish what had been started earlier.

“The gentleman and
your wife talked for some minutes, and then he took the duchess in his arms and
attempted to embrace her. She seemed pleased at first, but then broke away from
him and indicated distress. They talked for some more moments, and the
gentleman left the room.”

Adam raised his
brows. A lover’s quarrel? There seemed to be no other explanation. “This is
interesting, of course, but hardly the sort of evidence that will obtain me a
divorce.”

“Exactly so. However,
if you will allow me to proceed, I think you will be very pleased. Some minutes
passed, during which Her Grace wept. Then the doors to the room opened and
another gentleman entered.”

Adam shifted in his
chair. How many men was Allegra sharing herself with? She seemed to have an
endless supply of passion.

Mr. Pemberton shot
him a triumphant glance and continued to read. “The gentleman grasped your wife
by the shoulders, and, after speaking for only a very few moments, they kissed
passionately. He proceeded to push her up against the wall, bare her chest, and
then, very shortly, raise her skirts and--”

“What the hell!”
shouted Adam. Realization dawned as the familiar scene unrolled before him. He
had thought of little else for the last twelve hours. “Damn it, what did this
man look like?”

Mr. Pemberton
appeared surprised. He consulted his sheet of paper. “It says he was tall,
blonde and, er, well-built.”

Adam’s fist crashed
down on the desk. “Damn it! Damn it to hell! That was me!”

Mr. Pemberton’s mouth
dropped open as he stared at Adam. Slowly he regained his composure and put the
paper down. “It was my understanding that you wished your wife watched at all
times. I was not aware that you continued to have relations with her.”

“I don’t,” said Adam.
“At least, I didn’t. Not until last night, that is. It was--it was--” he
paused, not at all certain what it was.

Mr. Pemberton smiled
tightly. “I’m very sorry about this, Your Grace. I didn’t give my agent your
description because I felt it to be unnecessary. I regret the intrusion, but
you must agree that it was pardonable. You‘ve hardly dealt with us fairly, in
my opinion.”

Adam shuddered.
Someone had been lurking in the room, watching Allegra and him last night,
taking notes on their furious passion. The thought that he had requested the
voyeur’s presence upset him even more.

“You were supposed to
get evidence of my wife’s infidelity, and this is the best that you can do?” he
demanded, rounding on Mr. Pemberton.

“We have been
watching her very closely, and last night was the first time she did anything
unusual. Are you quite sure that your wife is cheating on you, Your Grace? We
have no indication that she has been intimate with other men, and my agent
indicates that she was very enthusiastic with you yesterday night.” He waved
his hand at the sheet of paper that still lay on the desk.

“Give me that,”
snapped Adam. He snatched up the piece of paper, tearing it into shreds and
tossing it into the small fire that burned at one end of the room. He stared
gloomily down as the edges of the paper darkened and the incriminating notes
slowly disappeared into smoke and ashes. Much like his marriage, he thought
morosely.

“Your Grace?” Mr.
Pemberton broke the silence after some moments. “How would you like us to
proceed? We can, of course, continue to watch your wife for any indication of
unfaithfulness. This time I would be certain to give my agents your description
and ask them to give you your privacy should you approach your wife again.
There was this other gentleman last night, who seemed to be on quite friendly terms
with the duchess. She did spurn his advances, but she might not a second time.”

Adam stared down at
the floor, pondering the man’s words. He had been so certain that Allegra was
flagrantly untrue to him. She had flaunted Lord Gresham in his face, and Louisa
had relayed a great deal of incriminating gossip to him. And he had seen her
urging Sir James Bathby to kiss her, not to mention the time he found her in
Gresham’s arms. It all seemed so obvious. And yet, Mr. Pemberton’s expert
agents had found no evidence at all. And she had apparently turned Gresham away
the night before, shortly before she had given herself over to him so
completely. He frowned, confused. It made no sense, but he had a great feeling
of wrongness.

“Your Grace?”

“I’m thinking,” said
Adam crossly. If what he had believed wasn’t true, then it was necessary to
find out exactly what was going on. And Allegra was the only person who could
supply that information. He had to find her and talk to her, to make her
explain her actions since their return to London. There was something here that
wasn’t adding up, and Allegra was the one who held the key. He only hoped that
the wall between them hadn’t become so high that it couldn‘t be surmounted.

“Call off your men
for now,” he ordered. “I’m going to find out what’s going on.”

Mr. Pemberton nodded
his head. Personally, he doubted that the Duchess of Gravesmere was cheating on
her husband, but he was still anxious to hold onto this wealthy client. He
would like very much to show him how proficient his agents were.

“Perhaps you would
like us to assign a man to Lady Manning?” he suggested. “Our past experience
with her would indicate that to be a wise choice.”

Adam spun around.
“What are you talking about?”

Mr. Pemberton
blinked, surprised by Adam’s reaction. He cleared his throat. “I’m aware that
Lady Louisa Manning is under your protection, Your Grace. The lady’s a beauty,
but a real high flier, as well. We’ve had occasion to follow her actions for
some of her previous protectors, who had good reason to suspect her.”

“Lady Manning has
spent the past several years on the Continent,” responded Adam. “You must be
thinking of someone else.”

“No, it’s the same
woman, I’m sure. A real looker,” said Mr. Pemberton dreamily. “Dark hair,
violet eyes, white skin, big--”

“I’m aware of what
she looks like,” snapped Adam.

Mr. Pemberton
collected himself. “As I was saying, we have had cause to observe her a few
times. Her late husband suspected that she was not completely faithful to him,
and I myself conducted that investigation. She was entertaining two of their
neighbors, as well as the footman they had in their employ. Unfortunately, Sir
Anthony, who was unwell, died before he could do anything with the information,
although I understood he wished to begin separation proceedings. Later, a
French gentleman, the Comte de Valene, who had her in keeping, requested that I
send an agent to Paris to watch her. He suspected the lady was sharing her
favors, and we found that to be the case. When our client dismissed her she
moved on to a new protector, one of the gentlemen she had been seeing on the
side. Lord Gresham, I believe. We’ve had no dealings with him. Perhaps he was
able to keep the lady satisfied.”

Adam glowered at him,
and Mr. Pemberton took a step back. It seemed impossible to please the Duke of
Gravesmere this morning. He had no idea why his client should be so angry when
he discussed the activities of a well-known courtesan. “I‘m sorry if my
suggestion offends you, Your Grace. No doubt you’re aware of Lady Manning’s
proclivities and have come to an accommodation with her. I merely thought I
would offer my services in case you wished to be sure of her faithfulness.
She’s a fast one.”