An Unlikely Duchess (6 page)

“The sooner he marries her and takes her away the better.”

He froze again, this time in anger as the little minx inadvertently confirmed his suspicions.

And he, he who never lost his temper, felt a burning anger slam into him.

Stepping out from behind the plant, he addressed her in the haughtiest voice he could manage.

“I assure you, my lady, I have no intention of marrying anyone.”

CHAPTER FOUR

Rebecca screamed in fright as the cool voice sounded behind her. Whirling around, she lashed out and landed a resounding smack squarely on Edward’s chin.

Unexpected as it was, he reared back and lost his balance. In trying to right himself, he automatically reached out for purchase on the closest thing he could grab. Her!

And, given that he was decidedly taller and heavier than she, all he managed was to fall on his backside and drag her down to land on top of him.

He landed with a
thud
and proceeded to have the air knocked out of him by her body landing sprawled across his.

Though as he registered the feel of her pressed against him, he could not remember a single reason why having breath in your lungs was all that important anyway.

The air seemed to crackle between them. By sheer strength of will, he managed not to maul her.

She fit, as he suspected she would, perfectly against him. Her body felt soft and warm and oh, so tempting pressed against his.

She gazed into his face with those blasted eyes and he felt like he was drowning.

“I, I am so sorry, your grace,” she stuttered and began to push away from him.

He made no move to help. No move to answer. No move at all really. He was frozen. Completely mesmerized by her, bewitched by her.

“Your grace,” her voice was a mere whisper.

“Hmm?”

“Please, let me go. I fear we will be seen.”

He realised that he was still gripping her arms. He also realised she was absolutely right.

Cursing under his breath he bodily removed her and jumped to his feet.

She had scrambled up and was righting her skirts, studiously avoiding his face when he clasped her by the elbow and pulled her behind the very serviceable potted plant, shielding them from anyone who might come looking.

Rebecca bit back a gasp of surprise when the duke moved her behind the plant.

She was in so much turmoil she did not know if she was coming or going.

Not only had he presumably caught her speaking to herself. About him, no less. But she’d hit him in the face and then lain across him like a wanton!

In less than twenty-four hours she had committed the most ridiculous of social
faux pas
and very nearly ruined herself. With the man who would wed her sister!

It could not get worse. She risked a glance up at him and noticed his thunderous expression. Oh. Maybe it could.

“Your grace, I apologise for knocking you over, I truly did not realise my own strength. I–”

“I beg your pardon, Lady Rebecca. You did not knock me over. I lost my balance.”

He looked mightily affronted.

“Well, yes. Because I hit you.”

He started to make a weird strangled sound and she wondered if he were choking.

“Are you quite well, your grace?”

“I assure you, madam, I did not fall because a tiny chit of a woman hit me.”

For heaven’s sake. This was one of the more humiliating experiences of his life. She barely reached his shoulder, dammit.

Not only had she knocked him clear over, but he’d actually grabbed her and pulled her over with him. The end result may have been pleasant but still. One does not admit to being knocked over on to one’s – well, it simply wasn’t done.

He looked down haughtily at her and noticed a fiery glint in her eye. Ah. Apparently he’d awakened her temper.

“A tiny chit of a woman?” Rebecca glared menacingly at him. He thought she looked like a feisty little kitten. All angry and adorable. Probably best not to mention that though.

“Yes, well, you are considerably smaller than me. And it is rather preposterous that you think you are the cause of my fall. I am a duke,” he finished, as if that meant he could not possibly be hit by a mere mortal.

“Since you appear to be confused by what just occurred, I can only conclude that you hit your head during your fall. Perhaps you should go and lie down, your grace. After all, a ducal head must be ever so much more important than the heads of us ordinary people.”

Her voice positively dripped with venom. My, my. What a little shrew she was.

“You do have quite the temper, do you not?” he quipped. “What an impact you will make on Society.”

The sudden change in her face surprised him. She paled at his words and then seemed to physically draw herself inwards, once again looking utterly defeated.

Hang it all, what had he said? Of course she’d make an impact on Society. There was no one in London who would hold a candle to her beauty, her spirit. She would be the toast of the Season. The belle of every ball. Gentlemen would be lining up to pursue her.

This last thought gave him a stab of jealousy that he did not care to think too much on at this moment.

The point was she reacted as though he’d kicked her favourite puppy, when he’d meant to offer her a compliment. Of sorts. He still thought her a hoyden and a shrew. An utter minx who must drive her parents to distraction trying to keep a handle on her. Just an especially beautiful and charming one.

“I need to get back inside. They will be wondering where I am. Please excuse me.”

She gave a brief curtsy and almost ran to the door in order to get away from him.

Why was she standing there arguing with him, unchaperoned?

He was an arrogant brute! One who would soon be a brother to her. The thought was repellent.

His comment about her impact on Society had cut her to the quick and she needed to leave lest she burst into tears right in front of him. He wasn’t to know that it was a particularly sore subject at that time, given she’d had the same thing said to her by her very angry sister not thirty minutes prior.

It had been a dreadfully trying day and now she wanted nothing more than to make her excuses and escape to her room.

“Wait.” His hand shot out and grasped her upper arm to stop her from leaving.

Rebecca felt the jolt of awareness that she now associated with even his slightest touch. She had nearly expired on the spot when lying across his body. He’d felt so strong, so muscular and warm. Her throat dried at the mere memory. She could not allow herself to think this way.

“Your grace?”

“What did you mean, when you said I was to wed her and take her away? To whom were you referring?” He knew. But he wanted to hear her say it.

She sighed, resigned and looked up at him, pinning him with her doe eyes.

“You are well aware your grace.”

“I am afraid I am completely at a loss as to what you are referring, my lady. Enlighten me, please.”

Rebecca studied him for so long he feared she’d fallen into some sort of comatose state.

“You really do not know?” she finally offered.

He shook his head.

She muttered under her breath, shaking her head and huffing and puffing a little.

Finally she looked up again and asked, “Are you aware of the contract that existed between our fathers?”

His confused look was answer enough.

“Oh dear,” Rebecca bit her lip worryingly. Deuced lucky lip. “I do not think I am the best person to speak to about this, your grace,” she began.

“Please,” he interrupted, his curiosity well and truly peaked at the moment, “I am having a rather difficult time getting an answer from my mother as to what is going on here. And I can hardly ask yours.”

Rebecca studied him intently for a few moments longer then seemed to make a decision.

“Very well. Forgive me for being so blunt about this but, well, there is no terribly easy way to soften the blow as it were.”

He wished she’d hurry along. She was too damned distracting and he felt he needed a stiff drink. Or seven.

“Your grace, our parents made a contract before any of us were born. Before either of them were even married, if my father is to be believed. A marriage contract. The eldest son of the Duke of Hartridge to marry the eldest daughter of the Earl of Ranford.”

Her announcement was met with a deafening silence. Rebecca gulped as she looked into his face. She thought she’d seen him angry up until now but clearly that had been mere irritation. For the look of fury currently on his face would be enough to send demons scurrying back to hell itself.

He did not speak for several minutes. Rebecca was just thinking of sneaking away, she doubted he’d notice so locked in his anger he seemed.

His clipped question halted her plans of escape.

“You were all aware of this, this contract? You all believe I’ve come here to pay my addresses to your sister? To honour this marriage deal?”

She wasn’t sure what the right thing to say would be. He seemed frightfully angry but she could not be sure at whom it was directed.

“Er – yes?” she ventured.

“I see. So, your sister— she believes we are to be soon engaged?”

He noticed the flash of pain cross her face and it made his heart stop. Did the idea of his marrying her sister cause her pain?

Interesting.

“Well, well yes, your grace. That is was everyone believes. You really did not know? About the contract?”

“No, I most certainly did not.”

“How strange.”

Not strange at all. His mother knew him better than anyone. If he’d known about it he’d have taken steps to break it immediately. He would never follow through on such a ludicrous scheme. Never!

Even if it was the younger sister?
Where had this voice suddenly come from? Full of difficult questions.

He would not be forced into anything. By anyone.

And he certainly had no interest in Lady Rebecca’s sister. Lady Rebecca however…

His eyes turned smouldering as they raked her from head to toe.

****

Rebecca shivered, wondering at the sudden change in his mood. In the atmosphere.

He took a step toward her and her skin prickled in anticipation.

“I cannot possibly honour this contract, Rebecca.”

So enraptured by him, she barely noticed his casual use of her name, though she had not given him leave to use it.

“Why not?” she croaked.

“For one thing, I have no interest in having a marriage arranged for me.” He stopped mere inches from her. Rebecca inhaled deeply and almost swooned. He smelled delicious, of smoke, of sandalwood, of
man
.

“For another, I do not intend to marry at all for quite some time.” His hand reached up and smoothed a stray hair from her cheek and tucked it behind her ear, lingering there until her breath was coming in short, and sharp gasps.

“And even if I were to marry soon, my choice certainly could not be your sister.”

All at once Rebecca looked offended and he could not help the smile that stretched across his mouth.

“Why ever not?” she demanded.

“How could I marry her?” he continued and this time his arms reached out and pulled her slowly against his body. And she, like the wanton she obviously was, went willingly with no objection.

“How could I marry her, when all I can think about is this? And you?”

And with that his mouth came down to crush hers in a fierce kiss.

And Rebecca was lost.

CHAPTER FIVE

Edward had lost all sense of reasoning by the time his lips met Lady Rebecca’s. In the back of his mind he knew he was courting absolute scandal. He knew he was on the way to ruining the lady. He knew that she was all wrong for him. And he did not give a damn.

Heat exploded through his veins as he wrapped his arms around her slim frame and crushed her closer, ever closer to his unyielding body.

Dear God, had ever a more sensual, tempting vixen walked the earth? How could a man be expected to control himself? She was the very embodiment of desire and he could not bring himself to pull away.

The kiss went on and on. He kissed her like his next breath depended on it.

The stars could have fallen from the heavens and he would not have stopped.

He had no idea what was happening to him. The feelings coursing through his body were beyond mere lust. He heard her soft moan and felt her arms cling to his neck and his heart clenched almost painfully in his chest.

He was afraid that this was more than attraction. He could almost believe that he was developing real feelings for the minx.

And that thought was like a jug of iced water being poured on his head.

With a jolt he pulled his lips from hers and set her bodily away from him, holding on to her arms as she staggered slightly.

Rebecca opened her big, dark eyes and he noticed, somewhat smugly, that they were glazed over. Her lips were bruised and swollen from his attentions and her breathing seemed as rapid as his own.

They stared at each other in silence, neither one sure what they would or should say.

There was a sudden noise from behind them, the sound of raucous laughter coming from the drawing room. It seemed to jolt Rebecca into action.

She lifted a hand to her lips and blinked rapidly.

“Oh dear,” she sounded so distressed, so horrified that he wanted nothing more than to comfort her. He reached out to do so and she jumped back like a skittish colt.

“Your grace, I – that is you. Oh, I cannot do this!” And with this last distressed cry she brushed by him and ran right down the darkened balcony, presumably toward the door to another room where she could enter the house undetected.

Edward did not know how long he stood staring after her. His mind in turmoil, his body screaming for release.

He heaved a sigh and ran a hand through his hair. He needed to do his social duty then retire to his room to try and figure out what the hell had just happened.

****

Rebecca threw up a silent prayer of thanks when she found the door to Father’s study open and slipped inside. The room was in complete darkness but thankfully she knew it like the back of her hand and was able to get to the door without mishap.