“Indeed, Rogers. I will dress to ride on Hampstead Heath, although I have business in London first. I may swim in the Serpentine later if I have time, so pack some spare linen.”
Nathaniel congratulated himself on his good luck and fast action with Miss Holt. With very little effort at courting on his part, he seemed to have secured an excellent duchess. She was clearly practical, resourceful, and self-reliant, with no false deference to social nonsense when it stood in the way of life. Yes, she would do well.
Glancing back outside, he watched his betrothed hurrying toward her carriage, only to pause at its step. She looked back at the house with an expression of confusion and longing that made his loins throb.
How perfect her figure…
When Miss Holt had retrieved that letter from her stays, Nathaniel had caught a glimpse of her round breasts reflected in the window glass and had ached to feel their weight in his hands.
Then, he recalled those bruises on her arm and anger surged in his chest again, almost outpacing his desire. He would marry Miss Holt mainly for his own benefit, but if that protected her from such unconscionable abuse, it was all the better.
“Has the new dark suit arrived from my tailor yet?” Nathaniel called after his valet. “I am going to want it sooner than envisioned… for a particular occasion.”
Rogers turned back, shaking his head and looking quizzical. It was rare for his master to ask after such things.
“I shall go to Jermyn Street in person and inquire this afternoon,” he promised. “There were only very small alterations needed after the last fitting. I will have it for you as soon as possible.”
“Good,” Nathaniel said, walking slowly after Rogers in the direction of the ducal suite.
His ears recalled the little gasps and moans Miss Holt had made when he stroked her hands and wrists. He wondered if anyone had ever kissed her before, and thought it was a distinct possibility that the answer was no.
Twenty-six years untouched and such hot blood in her veins… She must be like a volcano waiting to erupt. Well, now she was going to be his, and he would be the one to revel in the heat of that explosion.
Perhaps he could finally have what he had envisioned for his first marriage—a deeply sensual wife who required his attention regularly in the bedroom but made few demands on him outside of it, capable of running a household and raising children with very little input from him.
“One other thing, Rogers. Pack me a travel bag for tonight. I may be on the road for the next few days, and I wish to be comfortable. I may also stop at Greyhaven Park, but my plans are uncertain.”
“Of course, Your Grace,” his valet agreed, not voicing his curiosity. “Will you require me to travel after you?”
“No, you will be better here in London until I return,” Nathaniel replied with a smile. “My clothes have more need of you than I do, and I want that dark suit ready. My present errand is a purely personal matter, and I’m sure I can accomplish it satisfactorily.”
Yes, everything was falling into place so very easily. All Nathaniel had to do now was find that fool Patrick and make sure he reached Gretna Green with his geographically challenged lover.
After that, Miss Holt would be his—to explore, to savor, and to teach in every wicked way that pleased him.
CHAPTER 9
“You did not find her,” Lady Holt grumbled as Cecily stepped into Holt House. “Did you learn anything?”
Cecily shrugged off her light spring coat to a waiting maid and shook her head. “I am afraid not. I’ve called on Lady Susan Fitzallen, Miss Penelope Caruthers, Lady Briggs, the one who married at Christmas, and Lord Margate’s twin daughters. They all came out with Mary. They seemed sincerely sorry to hear that she was laid up with the flu, as you told me to say.”
“Preston said it would be useless to send you out, and he was right,” Lady Holt said crossly. “He has gone to ask at coaching inns about girls traveling alone last night.”
Cecily nodded without comment, knowing perfectly well that Mary had not been alone and had escaped in a private coach with Patrick.
“I don’t know what he will do if she isn’t found,” Lady Holt lamented. “Lord Ashworth had promised Preston a great deal of money for Mary’s hand. How could she do this to him?”
Cecily closed her ears as much as she could to her grandmother’s railing against Mary’s supposed ingratitude. In any case, she had other things on her mind, particularly an untidy and unpredictable man with burning sapphire eyes who had just claimed her hand in marriage.
“I would gladly take you in exchange…”
She shivered at the memory and then blushed all over again as she recalled the feel of his fingertips on her hands and arms.
“Your skin is so soft, and your body is so responsive…”
What a thing to say to a lady! And yet the Duke seemed to think it a very natural part of his peculiar proposal. Since he also saw no problem in Patrick and Mary consummating their union before the actual wedding ceremony, perhaps Cecily should not be surprised. The Duke had admitted openly that he was unconventional.
“I am inviting you to play bedroom games I suspect you have never dreamed of but am equally sure you would thoroughly enjoy…”
