Page 25 of Her Passionate Duke

Gently, the Duke urged her to move, and she allowed him to guide her from the room, even as all of those eyes seemed to burn holes in her back. Even this would add to the gossip, for she was leaving the room, alone with a man. She didn’t care.

To realise that was a very freeing thing. In that instant, she wondered where her mother was – hopefully, if she had fainted from the shock of it all, her friends, or the Duchess, or even the annoying Lord Theodore, were caring for her. A dutiful daughter would seek her mother out – but right at that moment, Linnet felt far from dutiful.

She was all too aware of the warmth of the Duke’s hand on her arm, of the unique scent of him, and of the fact that he was safe, and with her.

He spoke to a footman in the hallway, and sent the man for tea and food, then guided her into a room which appeared to be his study, and shut the door. Once again, she was completely alone with this man. How utterly scandalous. And how utterly delicious.

He turned from closing the door, and in two steps he stood before her, so close that they were nearly touching. Her heart beat faster, her mouth was suddenly dry, and she felt almost dizzy from his proximity. He bent, ever so slowly, and pressed a kiss to her lips – softly at first, and then with more passion. Passion she returned, after a shocked moment of stillness, her tongue exploring his lips, as his traced the shape of hers. Her arms slipped up around his neck, and she clung to him, all else fading away.

They only broke apart when a tap came at the door, and Linnet stepped back, her face flushed, shocked and delighted in equal measure. The footman opened the door when bid enter, and a maid carried in a large tray, bearing plates of food and a tea service. Once it had been set down upon what must be the Duke’s desk, the maid and footman left the room, but not before giving Linnet very curious glances. She flushed again – what must they think? What would they tell the other servants?

“Sit, let me pour you some tea, and then I will answer your questions.”

Linnet sat, and took the tea when he handed it to her.

“Thank you.”

“For the past six months we’ve been working to expose a nest of Frenchmen with designs against the Crown. Their aim was to spark an international incident, in the hope of igniting another war between England and France.”

“Why didn’t you tell me any of this before?”

“I wanted to tell you, honestly. If I hadn’t been sworn to secrecy, I would have – for the more I got to know you, the more I wanted to know you, and the less happy I was about attempting to gain information from you, without telling you why. As it was, I compensated by telling you as much about myself as I could — things I had never told anyone else. It was startlingly easy to do so – there is something about you which makes me want to confide in you, to bare my soul to you.”

“You did, and I was honoured that you chose to trust me so, even whilst I was confused by the small things which did not seem to make sense.” Linnet’s hand reached for his. “I hope it was worth it in the end.”

The Duke smiled. “In one way, it most definitely was, in that what you told me about Fournier, with respect to his having lost a brother in the war – a brother who was almost certainly fighting for the French, against the English, gave me the final clue that I needed, to understand his motivations. In a completely different way, I hope that we’ll find out.” He took the teacup from her fingers, set it carefully on the desk, and pulled her up from the chair, to wrap his arms around her and pull her close to him. She could smell the scent of his cologne mixed with the undertone of something which was uniquely him. “That is, if I wasn’t mistaken all of this time? You really were beginning to fall for me, as I was for you?”

“Beginning? I’ve been yours, I think, from the very first time that I saw you, at your mother’s dinner, when you arrived late, and spoke so passionately about the orphans.”

“Then… will you marry me, Lady Linnet Quinton? And help me defend orphans as stoutly as you just defended me – although hopefully a fire poker will not be required.”

Linnet laughed, full of joy.

“I will, for I love you. In truth, I’ve dreamed of marrying you – but never truly believed that it might happen.”

He bent to kiss her – a kiss which lasted a very long time, and was full of the promise of passion to come. A kiss which only ended when the door burst open, admitting the Duchess, and Lady Chelmstone.

“Linnet!”

“Jeremy!” The two women spoke at once, then Lady Chelmstone fell silent, allowing the Duchess to go on. “What is the meaning of this? After seeing this, Lady Chelmstone has every right to demand that you marry her daughter!”

The Duke laughed, and the two older women looked momentarily confused, laughter obviously being very far from the reaction they had expected.

“She will not need to demand anything – for, indeed, I have pre-empted that need – I have already asked Lady Linnet to grant me the honour of becoming my wife, and she has accepted. Might I ask you, between you, to begin planning a wedding?”

The look on their faces was priceless, and Linnet collapsed into laughter, leaning back into the Duke – Jeremy’s – arms, full of happiness.

Epilogue

The weeks passed quickly, the banns being called as required, each Sunday, and Linnet felt as if she lived in a very strange dream. Her mother had, after the initial shock, been beyond delighted – Linnet would be a Duchess! Far better, she declared, than the wife of the third son of an Earl, which is all that Lord Theodore offered. Lord Theodore, Linnet thought, was really the person most confused by it all. He had called upon them, and looked at her mournfully, shaking his head.

“But you love me.”

His words had been mournful, and she had spoken as gently as she could in reply.

“I don’t, I never have, although I do appreciate everything that you have ever done to help us. But I don’t love you. Go and find someone who will love you, rather than wasting your life yearning for me.”

He had sighed, and nodded gravely, and gone away.