To Desire a Wicked Duke (23 page)

Tess met Rotham’s gaze just then. From the arrested look in his eyes, she knew they were entertaining the same suspicions—that perhaps Falwell’s ghost might have some connection to the thieves.

When Rotham told the vicar about finding contraband
in the caves below Falwell, Potts agreed it was possible that the miscreants were using the castle to hide their ill-gotten gains.

A short while later, Tess and Rotham politely took their leave. During the ride home, she asked him about proving that the thieves could be Falwell’s ghost. “Perhaps we should break the padlocks after all, to see if the chests contain any of the stolen jewels.”

“I intend to.”

“If so,” Tess mused aloud, “then it means we are dealing with an entire ring, and you will need more support to foil them. Surely now you will allow me to help watch the cave, and Fanny also.”

Rotham shook his head. “You heard Potts. These thieves are known to be violent.”

“All the more reason for us to be involved. We can provide strength in numbers.”

“No, it’s out of the question.”

Tess felt herself stiffen at his commanding tone. “I warn you, Rotham. I won’t just sit idly by while you confront an organized band of thieves.”

“You will, love.”

She regarded him in frustration. “You are acting the tyrant again.”

“Oh, yes,” he drawled in a voice heavy with satire. “It is tyrannical of me to want to protect you from danger.”

Brown eyes clashed with gray—but then Tess bit her tongue. She would never persuade Rotham to agree to her participation by resuming their former hostilities.

Forcibly, she adopted a more reasonable tone. “You
seem to have no qualms about putting our servants at risk, or Basil Eddowes, either.”

“They are men. They can shoot a pistol if necessary.”

“Fanny and I both know how to shoot.”

“I am
not
putting you in the middle of a gun battle.”

“I am
not
suggesting any such thing,” she replied sweetly. “We are perfectly capable of going to fetch reinforcements from the castle while you big, strong
men
hold the thieves at gunpoint.”

When he only scowled, Tess continued. “I am not a fragile flower, Rotham.”

“No, that you are not,” he allowed grudgingly.

“You need us. Otherwise you will have to involve the castle servants, who may warn the thieves away.”

Rotham sent Tess a quelling glance. “Your stubbornness is highly annoying.”

“Well, you delight in purposely annoying me, your grace. Turnabout is only fair play.”

He grimaced. “Your grace, this … Rotham, that. Your formality grows irksome.” His tone held irritated masculine impatience. “Must I remind you again that you are my wife now? You may call me by my given name rather than my title, as I have mentioned before.”

Tess pursed her lips thoughtfully. “I have thought of you as my nemesis for so long, it would seem strange to use anything other than your title.”

“Ian is my name. I prefer you use it.”

“And in return, Ian? Will you allow me to participate?”

A pained smile touched his lips. “I expect you will leave me no choice.”

Tess’s own smile was brighter. “No indeed, dear Ian.”

Rotham eventually gave in, Tess decided, because he knew she was right. When they reached Falwell Castle, they left their horses on the bluff and made their way down the steep path through the woods to join Miles and Fletcher, who were lying in wait in hopes of catching the smugglers.

Inside the cave, they broke the padlocks on the chests and discovered an abundance of valuable jewelry, coins, and silver—mainly candelabra and dinnerware.

Fletcher gave a long, low whistle. “Cor, ’tis a fortune.”

“Not the work of Freetraders,” Rotham agreed grimly.

With that new intelligence, it was easier for Tess to gain his grudging approval in helping to guard the cave. After some further discussion, they formulated their plans. Rotham’s footmen would assume the next shift, while he and Tess and another servant would take the third shift later that night, beginning at ten o’clock. Fanny and Basil would relieve them at four
A.M
., along with Tess’s stalwart coachman, Spruggs.

Then they returned to the castle and informed the various parties about their duties. Basil was not keen on Fanny endangering herself, either, but although she was pleased by his protectiveness, Fanny used the same argument with him that Tess had used with Rotham—or Ian, as she had agreed to call him.

They dined together as usual that evening, and repaired to the drawing room afterward for cards and conversation. But when ten o’clock neared, instead of retiring for bed, Tess and Ian changed their formal attire for dark clothing—garments that were thick and heavy enough to protect against the nip in the autumn night air.

Slipping quietly through the dark castle then, they exited through a side door, where they met one of Rotham’s grooms.

Rotham—Ian—had brought two loaded pistols and a lamp, although they couldn’t use a light for fear of giving themselves away. The half moon was bright enough to illuminate the woods, however, as they negotiated the path down to the cove. And the soft rush of the waterfall was sufficient to cover the sound of their progress and even drown out the rhythmic swell of the surf surging against the shore.

Even so, when they encountered the first footman, they kept their voices low. Ian’s groom took the footman’s place, hiding behind a patch of shrubbery, and Ian and Tess moved on to relieve the second footman inside the cave.

The interior was nearly pitch-dark. Thus, Tess was glad Ian had paced off the dimensions earlier, since he was able to lead her to the rear of the cave. They settled behind the low wall of boulders, so that they could cover the cave entrance and the tunnel opening at the same time.

To avoid being heard over the babble of the waterfall, they spoke little as they waited for the thieves to show themselves. Tess rested her shoulder against Ian’s strong arm, glad to feel his reassuring warmth.
She had dressed in a hooded cloak, woolen gown, and gloves, yet after an hour, the chill of the rock seemed to seep into her limbs.

Ian must have felt her shiver, because he murmured quietly, “Come here,” as he drew her closer.

He repositioned her between his outstretched legs, with her back to his chest, his arms wrapped around her from behind. Gratefully, Tess leaned back against him and concentrated on staying awake in the darkness.

As the time slowly ticked by, she felt herself growing stiff as well as sleepy, but she was not about to complain since she had been the one to insist on accompanying him to the cave.

Perhaps another ten minutes passed before she shivered again. In response, Ian shifted his hold and drew down the hood of her cloak to expose her hair, which was still pinned in an elegant chignon from dinner. To her surprise, he lightly kissed her bare nape. Then he slipped one gloved hand between the folds of her cloak to cover her gown’s bodice.

Tess drew a startled breath, and when he began caressing her breasts from behind, she asked in an incredulous whisper, “What are you
doing
?”

“I am merely trying to warm you.”

The sound of his low voice scraped along her senses and flooded her with the warmth of memory, taking her back to the previous night spent in his bed. And when his hand slowly continued stroking her breasts, she knew he was purposely arousing her, despite his denial.

“You are trying to seduce me, aren’t you?” she demanded hoarsely.

“That was not my original intention. If I wished to seduce you, I would do this.…”

Through her layers of clothing, his gloved fingers plucked at her nipple, sending a shock of sensation spearing through her.

“You cannot make love to me here, Rotham.”

“My name is Ian,” he reminded her, gently nipping her earlobe.

“You cannot make love here, Ian.”

“Yes, I can,” he answered, unperturbed. “Shall I show you?”

His free hand delved inside her cloak to stroke over her gown, sliding along the fabric covering her abdomen, then lower to cup her woman’s mound between her thighs, pressing her skirts against the bare flesh of her sex.

Tess gasped at the pleasurable friction.

“Hush, darling. You don’t want to give us away.”

Yet it was difficult to hush. Even through her gown she could feel Ian pinching her nipples above while probing her feminine folds below. The combined effect of his dual assault sent a bolt of sheer sexual excitement through Tess.

As he pressed harder against her sensitive core, her own gloved fingers clutched on his hard thighs.

“You don’t really want me to stop, angel, do you?” he observed in that provocative tone that never failed to rile her.

He was daring her to prove her dispassion, Tess realized; indeed, he was almost taunting her.

She should have been vexed, except that his caresses were driving any thought of anger from her mind. With her senses on fire, she couldn’t seem to
care that he was conducting his scandalous offensive in a dark cave, or that at any moment a band of smugglers could come storming in—although in that event they would likely have a warning.

She most certainly didn’t want Ian to stop, however.

“I didn’t think so,” he murmured with amused satisfaction. When he urged her to spread her legs wider, she whimpered. “You have to be silent, Tess,” he reminded her.

His wicked caresses were somehow even more erotic because she couldn’t scream, and because his mouth joined in the seduction. His tongue swirled around the shell of her ear, then slipped inside, reminding her how he had thrust deep into her body just last night.

He continued stroking her through her gown, knowing just where to touch to increase her need. Soon her hips were rising and falling at the delicious friction he created, but Ian only increased the rhythm of his caresses.

Tess bit her lip hard, but when the fire mounted higher inside her, she couldn’t stifle a sob of pleasure.

“Remember, you can’t cry out when you come,” he whispered huskily in her ear.

To make certain she obeyed, he grasped her chin and turned her face back to his. As her body shuddered and began to buck in his embrace, he captured her mouth with a deep, hot kiss to silence her scream of ecstasy.

When her climax finally was over, his magical hands remained where they were, lazily soothing her.

Panting and weak, Tess sprawled back against him. “You are a fiend,” she muttered in a hoarse voice. “I cannot believe you did that.”

“Did what?” he asked innocently. “As I said, I was only helping to warm you. Are you warm now, love?”

Yes, she was warm. She was feverishly hot.

Before she could answer, Ian echoed her thoughts. “I think you are hot for me.” Catching her wrist, he guided her hand down to his loins so that Tess could feel the hard bulge beneath his breeches. “I know I am hot for you. I want to be inside you, sweet Tess.”

Her thighs clenched at his suggestive tone, while her stomach contracted. “This is why they call you the Devil Duke, isn’t it? Because you are utterly wicked.”

“No doubt. But it is hardly wicked to pleasure my own wife.”

“But I am not a real wife to you,” Tess pointed out breathlessly.

“Even so, when our shift is over, you are sleeping in my bed for the rest of the night. We are legally wed. There is no reason we must endure this sexual frustration any longer.”

Tess didn’t reply at first, although her body was aching shamelessly for Ian. The damnable truth was, she wanted to spend the entire night with him, making passionate love to him, getting lost in his strength and his heat.

And what was so wrong with enjoying a sexual liaison with her own husband? She had yearned for passion to fill the emptiness inside her, Tess reminded herself.

Perhaps Fanny was right. She could have Ian as a lover without involving her heart. Indeed, for the past few years, she had shut out emotions in her life as self-protection. She could continue doing so if they slept together as lovers, surely.

She could remain cool to Ian, in complete control of her feelings.

“Very well,” Tess agreed after a moment. “I will sleep in your bed tonight and ease your sexual frustration.”

He laughed softly and pressed a kiss against her hair. “How kind of you, darling, to pretend you are granting me a favor. But you will enjoy sharing my bed as much as I do, I promise you.”