Dear Lord, she really was getting married.
“I will trust your judgment on such matters more than my own, Isabella.” The Duke shrugged, clearly caring no more for trousseaus than for other social conventions. “You and Miss Holt can make all the necessary arrangements.”
The voices of their hostess and the Duke lowered as they all entered the house. Cecily found herself distracted by the elegant interior and the collection of variousobjets d’art, thoughtfully arranged along hallways, walls, and staircases. Mary marveled aloud at the house’s beauty, while only snippets of the Duke’s conversation reached Cecily.
“… drunken brute of a man…”
“… still young…”
“Ashworth! Surely not?”
“… no fool, but not worldly…”
“… will be safe here…”
At the foot of the main staircase, Lady Jackson stopped and waited for her guests to catch up.
“The Duke will not be staying tonight,” she told them. “He has business to attend to at Greyhaven Park, but I am sure you will both be very tired in any case. You have rooms together on the second floor, and a bath is already being drawn. Eunice, do take Miss Mary upstairs and help her dress.”
Cecily was conscious of both relief and disappointment upon hearing that the Duke would be leaving. She had already wondered whether he would stay, and whether he would find his way to her room that night.
No, it is best that he stays as far away from me as possible!
“Now, I must go and dress up too,” Lady Jackson continued. “Do come back and see us soon, Nathaniel. Miss Holt, ring the bell when you’ve said your farewells, and someone will show you to your rooms. We dine at eight.”
Her heart fluttering, Cecily nodded as Lady Jackson went up the staircase. The servants dispersed, and she was left alone with the Duke. Of course, they were a betrothed couple, and it was natural for people to assume they were bidding each other a lover’s goodbye.
Engaged or not, Cecily had no idea what to say or what the Duke would expect. His expression gave her little clue as he stood there, regarding her with those burning blue eyes.
“You are leaving us, then?” she asked uncertainly. “I am sure Lady Jackson is disappointed—Oh!”
Without warning, the Duke had spun her around the side of the staircase and into the shadows, his lips finding hers as her arms instinctively wrapped around his waist.
“It is a pity I cannot stay here,” he murmured between kisses. “My cousin holds the same views as Mrs. Barnes on the ravishment of young women under her roof.”
Before Cecily could reply, she was caught in another deeper kiss, and the hum in her blood threatened to overwhelm her reason. She moaned breathily as he pulled back a second time and began trailing kisses down her throat.
“Do not fret, you will be ravished soon enough,” the Duke assured her, his voice seeming to roughen with the same desire he was arousing in her. “Once my ring is on your finger, you will be mine.”
With that final heart-jolting promise, he broke away and drew a deep breath, before smiling and striding out into the night.
* * *
Dinner was a quiet and relaxed affair, at least for Lady Jackson’s family and Mary.
Cecily was quiet, but far from relaxed, her mind still caught up in the moment the Duke had spun her into the shadows and the maelstrom of desire that followed his kisses.
Quickly recovered from her recent ordeals with all the resilience of youth, Mary chattered away to Lady Jackson during the meal, and Cecily was happy to let her do most of the talking.
“We will be dull here at Epworth House this week, I’m afraid,” Lady Jackson told them while the soup was being served. “My husband is visiting friends, and my sons are away at school. Still, it seems as well that you should be somewhere quiet for now.”
“Oh, I don’t mind that at all. Richmond seems lovely,” Mary enthused.
“We’re very grateful that you have taken us in, Lady Jackson,” Cecily said more seriously. “We had better be very quiet for now. I do not know exactly what His Grace has told you, but I would not want my uncle to find Mary here.”
“That would create unnecessary problems,” Lady Jackson agreed. “And the law would be on your uncle’s side. I think you will find, however, that Nathaniel’s influence is rather greater than Lord Holt’s and his will quite formidable when he chooses to exert it.”
“I know,” Cecily said, taking a sip of wine and feeling again the heady arousal that had run through her when the Duke had kissed her beside the staircase.
