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Chapter Thirteen
The blushing maid bobbed a curtsy and scurried away—heaven knew what she thought of the highly irregular situation—and then Artemis dropped into a sedate curtsy herself. “Of course, Your Grace.” She couldn’t naysay Dominic, not when she’d been secretly hoping she might see him.
He stepped back from the doorway, and Artemis could see that the room beyond was an elegant, very masculine library. The light of the brightly leaping fire in the gray marble fireplace glanced off the glass fronts of several oak bookcases, the brass fixtures of an enormous, elaborately carved desk, and a gilt-framed mirror above a mahogany sideboard. When Artemis traversed the fine Persian rug, she caught the rich scents of leather, woodsmoke, and coffee; a fine bone-china cup sat beside a silver coffeepot and a pile of papers on the desk’s dark-red blotter.
The door closed behind her with a soft click, and Artemis’s pulse capered when she realized they were completely alone.
She turned, and almost at once, Dominic caught her about the waist with his large, warm hands. His dark-gray eyes burned with an intensity that made her breath hitch.
“Artemis. God, how I’ve missed you.” And then his mouth was on hers, demanding and fierce. He tasted of coffee and desire, and within seconds, he’d backed her into one of the glass-fronted bookcases. His large, hard body pressed heavily against hers, crushing her skirts, trapping her. But she didn’t want to be anywhere else.
Her fingers curled around his biceps, and she couldn’t suppress a moan when the hard, bulging muscles flexed beneath her palms. How well they fit together. How glorious the feel of his wicked mouth possessing hers. One of his hands clasped the back of her neck while the other skimmed over her ribs and then covered her breast, kneading with gentle urgency. His tongue was hot and slick as it stroked every inch of her mouth with ruthless, studied purpose, enflaming her own desire.
How could it be that this man’s kisses and wicked caresses instantly turned her into a wanton, mindless creature? She’d been kissed before, but never like this. Had never experienced such heady, decadent sensations. Like she was intoxicated, and her head was spinning. Like she was melting and aching and wanting and burning up with need.
When Dominic at last drew back to drag in some much needed air, Artemis was also panting. Her knees were so weak that she clung to his shoulders, and perhaps Dominic felt a little overcome too; he rested his forehead against hers as if he didn’t wish to move.
“I hope you can forgive me,” he murmured, his voice low and hoarse. “When I saw you in the hallway just now, I knew I had to see you. To kiss you. I–I can’t stop thinking about you. Truth to tell, I’ve been having fantasies about kissing you all day.”
“The fantasies are mutual,” she whispered. She reached up and stroked his jaw. Light stubble rasped against her fingertips. “You need a shave.”
He chuckled softly. “I’m a beast.”
“Well, it’s a good thing that I happen to like beasts. Fairy-tale princes are rather boring.”
He lifted his head. “Yes. You like monsters and scowling misanthropes. I suppose I’m lucky that I fit into the latter category.”
“You’re not scowling at the moment.” Indeed, Dominic was smiling down at her and a soft glowing warmth lit his gray eyes. A frisson of fear curled around Artemis’s spine.
No, the Duke of Dartmoor couldn’t be developing tender feelings for her, could he? She suddenly felt like they were both on a treacherous slope, sliding headlong into perilous, uncharted territory. But Dominic wasn’t a prince with noble intentions, she sternly reminded herself. And she wasn’t a sweet, virginal maiden looking for a hero to save her or take her to wife.
She almost laughed aloud. No, she wanted this “hero” to ruin her.
The cold, hard truth was, they were both simply lust riddled. Artemis’s kiss had temporarily appeased the duke’s strong carnal urges. Yes, that was the only reason the mighty Duke of Dartmoor had suddenly been rendered as soft and malleable as unfired clay. He was just pleased that she was so receptive to his amorous advances. That she would readily climb into his bed if he asked her to.
And she would. The man was impossible to resist.
But they weren’t in his bedchamber. They were in his library at four o’clock in the afternoon. His daughter and her governess were not far away, and the whole house was filled with an army of servants.
She needed to go home before Aunt Roberta missed her and kicked up an almighty fuss and asked too many questions about where she’d been.
But first, she had something to tell Dominic. “I suppose you’re wondering how my meeting with Miss Sharp and your daughter went.”
“Yes. I am.” Dominic at last stepped back and gestured at a pair of leather wingback chairs beside the fire. “Won’t you take a seat?”
Once they were settled, Artemis filled him in on the details—scant though they were. “Celeste wasn’t particularly forthcoming about her studies. She didn’t mention anything was amiss, so that’s reassuring. Although I did note Miss Sharp isn’t keen on teaching scientific subjects. There only seems to be a smattering of botany.” Even that was being generous.
Dominic frowned. “Hmmm, that’s interesting. I happen to know Celeste is particularly interested in astronomy. One of her favorite pastimes at Ashburn Abbey is to stargaze, weather permitting. I’ll have a word with Miss Sharp. Celeste is to have a first-rate, comprehensive education, and that includes all of the sciences, not just a ‘smattering’ as you put it. I expect her to be able to converse intelligently on any topic.”
“I agree…” Artemis hesitated, unsure if she should bring up the other detail she’d learned about the duke’s daughter. But really, what was the point of staying tight lipped? She wasn’t lily livered and the dukehadsought her help, no matter how unpleasant the truth she discovered might be. Stiffening her spine, she continued, “You might already be aware of this, but Lady Celeste also hinted that she is lonely. That she lacks friends her own age because of…” She grimaced. “I hope you can forgive me for being blunt, but it’s because of your own notoriety. Undeserved, of course. But yes, I do wonder if that might be the reason your daughter has been difficult of late.”
Dominic scraped a hand through his hair, ruffling the thick black locks into spikes. “Yes, I’ve also recently begun to suspect that might be the root of the problem. And you have just confirmed it.” He blew out a sigh, and exasperation roughened his voice. “The frustrating thing is, there’s not a great deal I can do about the situation. And it seems it’s not just female companionship Celeste has been seeking.” His troubled gaze met hers. “A little over a week ago, I discovered that Celeste has a secret admirer. Someone who calls himself ‘T.’ He’s been sending her suggestive, highly inappropriate love letters. I have no idea who it is and as far as I know, nothing else untoward has occurred. Thank God.
“Celeste’s maid, Miss Sharp, and indeed all of the servants have been watching her movements like a hawk. There are not many men she comes into contact with beyond the footmen, one or two grooms from my stables, and her middle-aged dancing master, and for various reasons, I don’t suspect any of them. But still…” He thumped his clenched fist on the arm of his chair.
“I also blame those bloody books by Lydia Lovelace that she got her hands on—the ones with the all-too-graphic love scenes. Too graphic for my daughter, at least. Celeste must have got it into her head that a little bit of romance and excitement will cure her low spirits. But it won’t. It will only make things worse if she gets herself into trouble. She’s only fifteen, for Christ’s sake.” Dominic bared his teeth. “When I find out the identity of the dog who’s been attempting to seduce my daughter…”
Artemis dropped her gaze to her lap where her hands were clasped as tightly as Miss Sharp’s. She understood Dominic’s anger. A man who attempted to seduce a fifteen-year-old girl was a blackguard through and through. But it didn’t seem fair to blame her alter ego, Lydia Lovelace. There were so many different arguments she could mount to defend her books, but then she might say too much and reveal who she was. And she couldn’t do that. Not when Dominic had promised to help her free herself from her aunt’s controlling rule.
