Sarah's Duke: and Ellie's Gentleman (The heir and the spare, book 1) (8 page)

Panic flooded Oliver and heat flushed his cheeks. “No, I didn’t mean…”

“Well, what did you mean?” Sarah demanded, crossing her arms and tapping her foot impatiently against the carpeted floor.

“I just want to make sure you’re marrying the right person.” Oliver amended.

“What’s wrong with Mr. McTavish?” Sarah demanded, her voice raising in volume a couple of notches.

“Nothing, he’s a good man,” Oliver admitted, though he was reluctant to. He wanted to point out some major fault in her choice, but there wasn’t any.

“Then what’s the problem Oliver?”

He tugged at his cravat with his hands, loosening the knot. It was too tight. How was he going to get out of this now?

“I just don’t want you settling for less than you deserve,” Oliver admitted quietly.

“And what’s that?” Sarah asked just as quietly.

“Love, or at least passion.”

Sarah bit her lip and appeared thoughtful for a moment.

“I don’t believe you can fall in love in just two weeks. But passion, yes, I have found that.”

Pure rage filled Oliver. Red clouded his vision as his temperature rose and sweat drops popped out on his upper lip.

“Passion? You have found passion with him?” He advanced on Sarah like a lion circling his prey. His shoulders ached as he flexed and stretched his muscles.

Sarah nodded and Oliver growled, pulling her into his arms. The need to stake his claim on her undeniable as his fingers wrapped around her tiny waist.

“Like the passion you have found with me?” He ducked his head and ran his lips down her smooth throat.

Sarah gasped but leaned into him. “That is not fair to say to me. You do not want to marry me.”

Oliver chuckled against her skin. “I would if I could,” he pressed his lips to the spot beneath her ear and inhaled the sweet scent of rose petals.

“Pardon?” Sarah shrieked, pushing hard against his chest.

“Sarah, you have no idea how much I want you,” Oliver admitted, rolling his hips against her which caused his prick to harden and throb.

“You want to seduce me, you do not wish to marry me.” Sarah went to pull away again, struggling harder but Oliver held her tighter. He had to make her understand.

“I would never seduce you. I would marry you in a heartbeat if I wasn’t a Duke.” Oliver murmured beneath her ear.

Sarah laughed again, with so much bitterness and anger that when she tried to pull away he had to let her go.

“What do you call this then?” She motioned angrily to their surroundings with flicking hands. “Is this the part where you offer to make me your mistress instead? Or do you already have one like most men of rank do?”

The jealousy in her tone and disgust at the subject was obvious in her face.

“I would never insult you with such an offer.”

Sarah’s eyebrows rose high in silent question.

“And no I don’t have one.” He couldn’t believe she had asked him such a question.

“Well my lord... I’m sorry... Your Grace, from what I have learnt in the past few weeks it would be very unusual for you not to have one, and insulting in the extreme for you to say that you would marry me if you could.”

“I’m not lying, I have never had a mistress, but I am aware that most men do. And I was speaking the truth, I would marry you in an instant if I had met you two years ago.”

She had to believe him. He was telling the truth.

“What’s different now?”

“Everything.” Oliver said, turning away from her. Memories bombarded him, cold sliding over his spine and skin.

“My father once told me that I was born because he needed a second son, but he had no real reason to need one. He had actually wished for a daughter the night I was born. In ten generations the Dukedom has always passed from first son to first son. I am the only second son to inherit in my family, and my mother has told me all my life that I wasn’t needed...n or really wanted.”

“Oh, Oliver,” Sarah reached out her hand to touch his shoulder, the effect like throwing a small stone into a still pond. The ripples cascading out in increasingly large waves.

With a frustrated roar Oliver grabbed her and spun, pinning her up against the wall. His hands landed on either side of her and he stared down into the liquid violet eyes that haunted his dreams.

“You will never know how much I burn for you, only you.”

“Show me,” she whispered, placing her small hands against his chest.

Oliver moaned and swooped down for a kiss, plundering her warm mouth with his tongue, all restraint gone. His hands curved around her slight body and he moved to her breast, kneading and stroking the soft, abundant flesh through the silk of her dress.

She was like liquid heat in his arms, pressing against him and making soft, mewling noises that made his blood boil. He slid his other hand down to her rounded bottom and pulled her snugly into him. She fitted so perfectly that he couldn’t help imagining how easily she’d take him into her body. 

Sarah threw her arms around his neck and Oliver groaned against her lips. He pulled back and stared down at her. He had to get closer. His lifted his arms and reached for the ribbons on her dress. He unfastened her bodice and soon he had a plump breast free. It was creamy in the candle light, the erect little nipple a beautiful dusky pink.

“Oliver, you shouldn’t... are you sure...”

Oliver chuckled happily in his throat, she was enjoying this, he could tell. He dipped his head and licked her tight pink nipple which caused her to gasp and arch her back for him.

Oh yes. You beautiful girl.

He bent her over his arm and sucked it deeply into his mouth tasting the sweetness of her skin. Sarah shrieked and Oliver looked up to see her flushed face contorted in pleasure and shock. He told her gently, “Shhh,” before resuming his pleasuring of her breast.

She tasted like heaven itself. Sweet, pure and perfect. How would her very centre taste?

He was planning his next move, namely pulling up her skirt so he could touch her thighs when a loud Scottish voice said, “I think I saw them come through here.”

That was all the warning Oliver got before the door swung open and a light filled the small dark room. He blinked a few times and stared at the entrance to the room. There he saw John Dunford, the Scottish gentleman who wanted to marry the woman in his arms and his sister-in-law. Lady Honoria Lyre, the Countess of Sombury, the widow of his brother and the woman who believed herself the rightful Duchess of Lincoln.

Oliver turned towards the doorway and squared his shoulders, blocking Sarah’s body completely from view.

“If you would allow us a minute, we will be out momentarily.”

He strode forward and soundly slammed the door, cursing in three different languages. If it had only been John and his sister-in-law they could have brazened it out, but now there was no other way. Marriage or ruin for Sarah. Oliver only hoped McTavish wouldn’t call him out for this.

He pivoted on the ball of his foot to find Sarah flushed red and frantically doing up her bodice with trembling hands.

“They saw...
He
saw... Oh my...” She was babbling and he could see shock setting in. She sunk into a chair, her shoulders slumping in defeat. “What am I going to do?”

“You will marry me.” Oliver declared, unable and unwilling to see any other solution.

“Oliver, I can’t marry you, we just got through discussing it before... before...” she was clearly struggling to hold herself together. She couldn’t even finish her sentence.

“Sarah, I respect you, I desire you, I am a Duke, yes, but you are from a good family.” He heard himself trying to convince her and wondered when he had changed his mind?

“But I have had no training in this, how would I even know how to be a Duchess?” She was trembling now, he could visibly see it as it ran over her beautiful body.

Good question, I have no idea. Perhaps…

“You ask my mother, or even Lady Charlotte,” he answered with a smil,e as the solution occurred to him. Charlotte—she had been born to it, she would help.

This seemed to give Sarah pause, she got on well with his friend and if anyone could and would help her it would be Lady Charlotte Dunford.

“But Oliver, I’m not sure if I could be a wife who would look the other way when you go to other women, or not care that you never came home. And I want children, lots of children....”

Oliver took a steadying breath. It was understandable that she had fears about his ability to stay faithful, but it still rankled his pride.

“I will be faithful, Sarah. I have never wanted a woman as I want you. I don’t think that will ever change.”

Sarah digested this and then looked up at him again. “Children?”

Children? He had to produce an heir, but that wasn’t what she was asking. She wanted to know if he
wanted
children. Oliver could imagine that any child of Sarah’s would be loved and cherished in a way that
he
never had been. That knowledge made the idea of children much more palatable. The picture of Sarah large with his child made him smile.

“I want children Sarah, as many as you want. As many as you can give me.” He smiled at the thought. He would enjoy giving them to her, that was certain.

“But I don’t have any connections and I have no dowry...”

Oliver laughed, bubbles of happiness filling his belly. He had never thought of how his proposal of marriage would go, but he’d never have dreamed that he’d have to talk the lady into it. Sarah was trying to discourage him and he just couldn’t believe it.

“Sarah, I don’t need a dowry and I don’t need you to have any connections. I just want you.” Oliver said the words and realized how true they were.

He already had too much money, why did he need to marry a woman with more?

Sarah stilled and appeared to be thinking over his words as she chewed on her lush bottom lip.

Her face cleared and she stood up, smiling at him as she moved towards him. “Then all right, we will marry.” He held out his hands to her and watched as her eyes widened.

“Oh, I forgot to ask about Beatrix and John.” Sarah cried, horrified hands flying up to cover her mouth.

Oliver grinned, he loved the fact she had discussed their marriage as though it was only the two of them, without any thought to the siblings that she obviously loved. He could afford to give her family anything they wanted, not just education and a season or two. Perhaps he would permanently lease her family a home in London as a wedding present.

“Your siblings can have whatever you want Sarah. Your brother can go to Eton, your sister can have whatever dowry you think would be suitable. You may have anything you want.” Oliver stared at the woman opposite him and ignored the fact they had people waiting for them on the other side of the door and swept her into his arms.

Sarah would be a good wife to him and a great mother to their children. Whether she could handle being the Duchess of Lincoln would become apparent with time.

“Just a season for Beatrix please, Oliver I don’t want you worrying that I would ask so much from you.” Sarah blushed a deep red and averted her eyes in the most adorable way.

Oliver chuckled and bent his head, taking his fiancée’s mouth in a deep and fiery kiss that he felt all the way to his belly.

Just as they were breaking apart the door swung open, lighting up the dark corners of their intimate little cubby.

“What is this I hear?” Oliver flinched and turned around very slowly. That was a voice he recognized only too well. He should have known his sister-in-law wouldn’t have waited patiently for him to emerge. She had run straight for his mother.

“Mother,” Oliver began, pulling Sarah protectively into the curve of his arm. “May I present Miss Sarah Collins. Miss Collins has just agreed to marry me.”

“You can’t marry her!” Cried the Dowager Duchess of Lincoln. “She isn’t even a member of the
ton
!”

Oliver sighed and mentally girded his loins.

“Mother, I want to marry Sarah and I will. Her father is a vicar and I believe we could persuade him to perform the ceremony within the week.” He examined his feelings and realized he was less sorry than he thought he would be. He’d been caught compromising a virgin and now would pay the price, yet as he waited for the disappointment, it didn’t come.

“The Duke of Lincoln does not get married in such a way. You must not! What will people think?” The Dowager gripped her cane and slammed it into the floor. The thump resonated around them and Oliver gripped Sarah tighter.

“What did you do?” She hissed at Sarah, turning to glare at the beautiful young woman at his side.

Sarah tried to take a step back but Oliver held her firmly against him. Now was not the time to show any weakness.

“Sarah did nothing but gain my regard mother. We will marry as soon as is feasible.” He heard the authority in his tone and felt a moment of shock.
Was that really him?

“Yes, you bloody will,” growled a Scottish voice behind his mother.