The Duke's Revenge (18 page)

He shook his head with
disgust.
My God, had he gone mad imagining
that chit smiling at him?
He should be
torturing her, both mentally and physically, he thought. He should
be raping her, bruising her skin, and making her cry every minutes
of the day. Be damn but he was going to do just that tonight. He
had to satisfy his thirst for revenge, hurt them back like they had
hurt him.

Aye, tonight he would ravish that chit and
make her beg him for mercy. Then she would run back to her mother,
crying her heart out, and that would surely hurt Lady Grace
Westwood dearly. He smiled as his plan for that night took shape in
his head.

There was a rhythm of three knocks at the
door. It must be Donald, he thought, and called out, “Enter.”

The door opened and there standing before
him was an angel indeed.

She took his breath away as she stood there,
bathed in the golden morning light. Her raven hair was braided
loosely and rested over her right shoulder. Her face flushed rosy
and her violet eyes were bright. That, however, was not the reason
why he had forgotten how to breathe. It was the fact that she was
smiling at him. It was a very beautiful smile that would have
brightened any dark, stormy day in winter.

She came toward him with a small plate in
her hands. Once she was near his desk, her smile broadened. When he
stared at her for quite a while, she got a bit nervous and licked
her lips.

Max stared at those glistening red lips and
had the sudden urge to kiss them.

Hesitantly, she placed the plate on his
desk. He shifted his eyes to look at the plate and saw a piece of
cake with white icing on the top, shaped in such a way that it
looked like a flower with little nuts sprinkled about everywhere on
the top.

“’
Tis for you, your
grace,” she said. “I do hope you will like it.” She blushed when he
just stare at her. “I...I just want to thank you for not sacking
them,” she told him quietly, gave him another smile and rushed out
the door.

He looked at the cake, frowning and
wondering why she looked so please with herself. He cut a bit of
the cake with the small spoon and popped it into his mouth. He
tasted carrot, icing sugar and almond. It was delicious. He closed
his eyes as he savored the beautiful taste.

In his mind’s eye, he saw
her smiling up at him, offering him the cake—and
her
with it.
She was naked.

He snapped his eyes opened. Curse her for
disrupting and taunting him with her damn beauty. Tonight, he
thought, with his hands fisted.

CHAPTER 16

It had been four days since that night she
had went into the duke’s bedroom and she…

Ivy shook her head. No, no, she must really
stop thinking about that. She must stop thinking about the duke and
way he had made love to her. Suddenly, she cheeks redden at just
the mere thought of Max kissing her.

Then she thought about that day when she had
given him the carrots cake that she had made for the first time.
She hoped he like the cake. It was a simple thank you to him for
not sacking the servants even though she had scarified herself for
the bargain. He was, after all, a man with power. He could have
taken her and still sacked the servants.

“
M’ lady?”

Ivy looked up at the maid standing there at
the door, all smiling. “What is it?” she asked.

“
Lord and Lady Mornington
are here, m’ lady.” The maid kept bobbing her head up and down.
“Lady Hartland is here, too.”

“
Oh no,” Ivy gasped,
worried that the duke would get angry with her for not telling him
of their intended visitation. She had certainly forgotten about
them. She put the novel of
Sense and
Sensibility
down and rushed out the
library toward her own bedroom.

“
They are in the drawing
room, m’ lady.” The maid hurried after her.

“
Oh no, I just wanted to
tidy myself up, that’s all,” she said as she quickly limped across
the corridor to her own room. “Now, where is that brush,” she said
as she searched about the table containing her few
possessions.

“
M’ lady, you look
fetching as you are already,” the maid said.

“
Meg?”

“
Aye?” the maid said
brightly because her lady remembered her name.

“
The duke, he...” She
turned to look at the maid, her heart started to hammer in her
chest with the mere thought of him.

“
Aye, m’ lady?” The maid
raised her brows when Ivy did not continue with her
sentence.

“
The duke, he...he is not
here, is here?” she asked, knowing very well that he was still in
this castle the last time she saw him and that was only a mere
three hours ago at lunch.

“
The duke is with the
guests right at this very moment, m’ lady,” the maid
replied.

“
Oh!” Her heart felt as
though it had dropped into her shoes. She was hoping to avoid him
today as she had done for the previous four days except for when
she couldn’t like at lunch and dinner in which they had their meal
in quietness.

“
You must hurry, m’ lady,
they are waiting for you,” the maid said, breaking into her
thought.

“
Oh, yes.” She nodded and
hobbled out of the room. She limped down the grand stair as she
tugged in her hair, but the strands simply disobeyed her and fell
back into its preferred place about her face. As she walked toward
the door, a footman opened it for her and announced her
presence.

“
My dear, there you are.”
Lady Hart stood up and walked to her. “How is your foot, dear? Now,
don’t you rush about, it probably hurt very much,” she warned and
then hugged Ivy.

“
Hello, Lady Hart,” Ivy
said breathlessly. She darted her eyes around the room and saw the
duke standing by the hearth. He was looking at her.

“
Ah, this must be Ivy
Michaels.” Lady Mornington came around to where Ivy was
standing.

“
Good afternoon, my lady,”
Ivy said politely and curtsied.

Lady Mornington looked at her and nodded
with approval. “Very well done, my dear,” she said, turning her
eyes to the duke. “Your cousin, your grace, is indeed a beauty.
When, might I ask, will you present her to the ton. She will be
snatched up in no time at all I tell you, with a face like
that.”

“
The ton?” Ivy said, at a
lost as to what they all were talking about.

“
Ah, the ton indeed.” Max
turned his sharp eyes to Ivy.

Ivy turned, and incidentally, her gaze
collided with his. She glanced away when she saw his eyes pierced
into hers. He looked as though he wanted to kill her, right in
front of the guests.

“
The ton,” he repeated,
came to stand beside her, and wrapped his arm around her shoulders.
To the guests it looked as though a big brother had just wrapped
his arm around his fondly little sister. But to Ivy she felt
threatened.

“
What do you think, Ivy?
Do you want to attend the season? Go to endless balls and dinner
parties?” he asked her, his voice gentle and soft.

Ivy knew those words held a deeper meaning.
She tried not to look at him, but his stare seem to have a power of
its own, commanding her to look back at him. She bit her trembling
lip and said quietly to the general audience, “I don’t think I want
to attend the season just yet.”

“
But, my dear, you do not
want to be a spinster now, do you? How old are you?” Lady
Mornington asked in outrage.

“
Err...”

“
Now don’t be shy, dear,”
the earl of Mornington said from the sofa, “I’m sure you’re not so
young that you can’t attend the season as such. It’s very gay I
tell you, you wouldn’t want to miss it for the world,” he said for
the effect that he knew his wife would want though he himself found
such things a waste of time.

“
I err...” Ivy lowered her
eyes. She didn’t know what to say because all that she was aware of
was the duke’s hand still wrapped around her shoulders. It burnt
hot into her being at the spot.

“
Aye, dear, that’s how I
met my husband,” Lady Hart said, smiling and thinking of her happy
past, “during the season.”

Was that how young woman meet their
potential husband? Ivy wondered and felt a lost so deep that she
wanted to cry out in anguish. Her mother would never allow her to
attend the season and nor would the duke.

“
Do you love your
husband?” she whispered to the woman.

Lady Hart smiled sadly, and in her eyes, Ivy
could see the sad love there. “Aye, I loved him, my dear, but he is
dead now, two years ago after my son was...and he couldn’t...”

“
I’m sorry.”

“
Lady Hart is trying to
forget, my dear,” Lady Mornington said, nodding her head, “she’s
not giving up.”

Ivy shifted her body slightly, causing Max’s
hand to slide from her shoulder. He gave her a quick glance and
moved his hand back to the same spot. She wanted to shove him away
but she couldn’t, could she? Not in front of the guests.

“
Is that how young lady
meet their husband?” she asked naively because she could think of
nothing else to say.

Lady Hartland and Lady Mornington looked at
each other.

“
Why yes, dear,” Lady Hart
said, and she turned to Max. “Your grace, are you telling me that
Ivy does not know the way of a young lady in society?”

Max squeezed Ivy’s arm tighter.

Ivy bit her lip to suppress the pain and
said, “I’ve been living very quietly all my life. I do not know
much about the society’s way of life.”

“
Dear, this is not at all
the thing, your grace,” Lady Mornington said. “How old are you, my
dear?”

“
Eighteen, my lady,” Ivy
replied promptly.

“
My, just the right age,”
Lady Mornington said, looking at her friend knowingly.

“
Aye.” Max looked at
Ivy.

She stared up at him. Their eyes locked.

“
You are all grown up now,
a woman,” he said softly with a hint of meaning.

Ivy caught her breath at the back of her
throat. She closed her eyes for a second and turned to look at the
pianoforte, avoiding his gaze. She tried not to think about that
night, but the images kept appearing in her mind. She kept seeing
him kissing her naked skin, kissing her breasts, taking her, and
making her cry out into the night. She blushed.

Max laughed aloud when he saw her
blushing.

“
Good Lord, what is so
funny, your grace? ‘Tis no jest at all that Ivy does not know the
way of society. She must learn in haste if she wants to attend the
season next month,” Lady Mornington said, frowning at Max. “She, of
course, needs a chaperone, and you are not suitable, your grace.
Ivy needs a woman’s touch.”

“
I’m sure Ivy’s mother
would do just fine,” Lady Hart said. “Is she here at all? I would
really love to meet her.”

“
Nay, Lady Hart, she is
not here,” Max replied.

“
Good heaven, and how do
you suppose this would sound if anyone knows?” Lady Mornington
said. “’Tis not at all all right, your grace, Ivy needs a
chaperone.”

“
Ah,” max said, rising his
blonde brows and looked at Ivy, “but she is my cousin. My
very
beloved
cousin, she does not need a chaperone,” he said, and his eyes
narrowed as he looked at her. His words carried a wealth of
meaning.

“
Dear me, Ivy, why don’t
you sit down? Your leg, I believe, is still sore?” Lady Hart looked
at her. “And, err, the hot water, I’m afraid, is getting rather
cold,” she added as she looked at the beautifully decorated, large
Wedgwood urn sitting on the table.

“
Yes,” Ivy said and
quickly limped toward the empty seat next to Lady Mornington,
leaving Max to stand there watching her with amusement. She avoided
looking at him knowing very well that he still had his gaze on
her.

“
Why don’t you make tea,
dear?” Lord Mornington said.

Ivy looked at the earl in surprised. “Me?”
she asked in astonishment.

“
What do you mean? You are
the lady of the house, are you not, my dear?” Lady Mornington
added.

“
I, err...” Ivy lowered
her eyes.

“
Make the tea, Ivy, the
water is getting cold,” Max said his eyes softened toward
her.

She looked up at him and nodded. She brought
the urn over and poured some water into the delicately designed
Wedgwood teapot.

“
Why don’t you try some
cake, my lord?” she suggested to the earl.

“
Don’t mind if I do.” He
chuckled and grabbed for one. “Hmm, this cake is very delicious,”
he said, taking another bit.

“
Oh, I’m glad you like
it,” Ivy said, smiling at the earl as she handed Lady Mornington
and Lady Hart their tea.

“
It’s very delicious. I
must tell Mrs. King to prey the recipe from your cook, your grace.”
The earl laughed loudly.

“
Now dear,” his wife
slapped his arm, “don’t you be greedy, leave some for
Catherine.”

“
Aye, I know, dear, it’s
just hard not to be greedy,” he said, picked another piece from the
plate, and he handed it to Lady Hart.