A Duke of Her Own (15 page)

She was equally at fault. She shouldn’t have gone to the library alone to confront him. When his mouth left hers after the first kiss, she should have spoken aloud, should have announced that it was her—rather than whispering his name in ecstasy. When he had laid her down on the couch,
she should have gotten back up. When he had lifted her skirts, she should have shoved them back down.

While he’d certainly been eager, he’d not forced her. She could have said no at any moment, and she was certain he would have heeded her request. But she’d wanted one more moment, one more touch…a little something to last her a lifetime.

Tears filled her eyes.

“It’s all right,” Jenny said, wiping a warm cloth over Louisa’s face.

With Louisa’s hair draped over the edge of the tub, Kate sat behind her, brushing out the tangles.

“No need to cry. Papa will make everything all right,” Kate continued.

Papa. Their father. Not hers. Because hers was dead. And not her brother, because he’d simply stood inside the doorway like a buffoon and done nothing.

No, not nothing. He’d brought Jeremy Rose to the library, knowing, knowing that Louisa would be there, most certainly alone, with Hawkhurst. Why had he done that when she’d specifically asked him not to? Why had he betrayed not only his friend, but her? The pain sliced through her. A more miserable night she’d never known.

“Nothing needs to be done,” Louisa said quietly. “We are the only ones who know, and if we keep quiet, it need go no further.”

Jenny released a laugh laced with incredulity. “Louisa, the man comprised you in the worst possible way.”

Worst possible way? She could think of worse ways, and she’d certainly not objected at the time. Rather she’d relished his attentions.

Jenny held her gaze. “If you hadn’t gone to meet him, it would have been me that your brother and mine would have walked in on.”

Louisa felt the tears burn her eyes. “Don’t you see? That’s the very reason that I can’t marry him. It was dark. He didn’t know it was me. He doesn’t want me.”

“He doesn’t want me either,” Jenny said. “He just wants my money, and obviously he’s willing to do anything to get it.”

“Well, you did say that you wanted a man who could deliver passion,” Kate said. “And based on the way Louisa looked when we first stepped into the carriage, I’d say the man delivered that without question.”

They’d stopped calling her Lady Louisa, as though tonight’s unfortunate incident—Louisa thought she would always think of it as “the unfortunate incident”—had transformed them into longtime friends, had created a bond that until now had been lacking.

“Kate!” Jenny chastised. “That’s a horrible thing to say.”

“It’s the truth.”

Louisa felt the continual tugging on her hair cease. Kate came around and knelt beside her. “The encounter was passionate was it not?”

Louisa was no longer chilled as images swamped her. Even though it had been dark she could see
him so clearly in her mind, still feel the touch of his mouth and hands, the weight of his body…

“Kate, that’s an entirely inappropriate thing to ask,” Jenny said, but her voice held no conviction.

“You’re as curious as I am,” Kate said. “So don’t be a hypocrite about it.”

“I may be curious, but I would never ask, although I think Louisa’s blush has given you the answer to our continual debate. There can be passion without love.”

And with that truth voiced aloud, Louisa burst into tears. Because all his touches and kisses and sweet murmurings had been intended for another woman. And on the morrow, she would have to face him again. How could she after the intimacy they’d shared?

“Y
ou were supposed to secure a duke for my daughters, not acquire one of your own!”

Mrs. Rose had been ranting, huffing, and puffing ever since she’d joined the somber assembly in Mr. Rose’s study and learned that the Duke of Hawkhurst would be arriving any moment to make his intentions clear regarding Louisa.

It did not help matters that Louisa was harboring such guilt. She did not want to explain that in a darkened room, he’d thought she was another. She did not want to have to confess that she’d willingly allowed him to harbor those thoughts. She’d accused him of being without scruples, and yet it was she who was responsible for bringing them to this devastatingly ruinous moment.

“Now, dear, let’s not be that way,” Mr. Rose said gently from where he sat behind his desk. “The girl is under our protection, after all.”

“She is a paid servant,” Mrs. Rose said.

“A chaperone is not a servant,” Louisa retorted, stiffening her back and sitting up straighter.

Mrs. Rose stopped her pacing. “How badly were you compromised?”

“With all due respect, Mother,” Jeremy said from his place behind his father, where he stood with his shoulder pressed against the wall and his arms crossed over his chest, his raw, skinned knuckles visible. “There are not levels of being compromised. One is either compromised or she isn’t. I can attest to the fact that Lady Louisa was compromised.”

“Rather fortuitous that your brother invited Jeremy to join him for some brandy,” Mrs. Rose said snidely. “I cannot help but believe this was all arranged in order to ensure you achieved exactly what you sought.”

“Mama,” Jenny said, exasperation in her voice, “we all know it was arranged—but Louisa was not at its heart, not part of its planning. It was a trap set for me, and poor Lady Louisa sprang it. And unfortunately got caught in it.”

“Unfortunately indeed. It should have been you. He is your duke and Lady Louisa took advantage of the situation to ensure that she ended up with him rather than you! She knew full well what she was getting herself into, and she calculatingly barged ahead—”

“Enough!” a voice barked from the doorway.

Louisa jumped to her feet and spun around, unable to refrain from grimacing. The Duke of Hawkhurst stood just inside the study door—obviously deciding that since he was expected, he needed no servant to introduce him. One side of his face was badly battered and bruised, the area beneath his eye terribly swollen. It had to be incredibly painful.

“You are speaking about the daughter of an earl and my future duchess. I would take care with the words you choose to use, madam,” Hawkhurst said, a warning shimmering beneath his voice that had Mrs. Rose taking a step back, Mr. Rose coming to his feet, and Jeremy taking a step forward.

Jenny and Kate exchanged glances as though Hawkhurst’s words pleased them. No doubt because they gave the impression that he intended to marry Louisa. Well, she needed to set everyone straight on that account.

She cleared her throat. “Your Grace, it seems you and I have several matters to discuss.”

“Indeed we do, and none of them concern these people. I would appreciate their taking their leave.”

Jeremy took another step forward. “You can’t possibly believe after what happened last night that I’m going to leave you alone with her.”

“The damage has been done, and the time for protecting her is long past,” Hawkhurst said. “The rectifying of this situation does not require an audience.”

“The hell it doesn’t,” Jeremy said. “I’m not leaving this room, so you may have the opportunity to intimidate and bully her—”

“I’ve just stated that she’s to be my future duchess. The terms of that arrangement are none of your concern.”

“I have no plans to marry you,” Louisa said.

Hawkhurst swung his gaze around, clearly dumbfounded by her remark. She had to resist the temptation to cross over to him and press her cool palm against his poor cheek.

“I beg your pardon?” Hawkhurst said.

Louisa shook her head. “I won’t marry you.”

“Why ever not?”

Taking a deep breath she walked up to him. Closer to him, she could see that his chin sported an ugly bruise as well. Jeremy had done significant damage. She didn’t resist this time. She reached up and touched the bruise. He flinched. She lowered her hand, blinked back tears.

“I am not what you need,” she whispered. “I have all of eight pounds to my name. I am not who you want, I am not the one you were expecting to arrive in the library last night. Only a few people know what occurred, and they will hold their tongues. My reputation is intact. No reason remains to take drastic measures.”

“And if you are with child?” he ground out.

She stared at him. “But…” She couldn’t find the words. “But it only happened once.”

He leaned nearer. “That, sweetheart, is all it takes.”

Her knees were suddenly weak, and her legs had no more consistency than her morning porridge. She must have looked on the verge of swooning, because his hand was suddenly supporting her, and he was leading her to a couch. As soon as she was near enough, she sank onto the stuffed cushions.

He knelt before her. “Surely you are not that innocent.”

Pressing her hand to her mouth, she shook her head. “My mother never spoke of such things to me before she died. I had a notion of what occurred, but I was unclear on the particulars. And who was there for me to ask? Alex?”

With gentleness she’d not have expected of him, he reached out and, with his fingers, feathered stray strands of her hair back from her face. “So now you see the need for us to wed.”

Again, she shook her head. “Not unless I’m with child. When will I know?”

“Not for a few months. The fact that there is a possibility that you are with child means we must wed now. I will have no scandal surrounding my heir.”

“Your heir?”

He grimaced, then winced. “Or my wife.”

This was wrong. All of the reasons for him marrying her were wrong, and yet if she was with child, no reason was more compelling than protecting the child. She looked past him to the one person she’d never thought to turn to for advice.
“Mrs. Rose, when and how will I know if I’m with child?”

Mrs. Rose squared her shoulders as though about to face unpleasantness. “It is much easier for a woman to know for certain that she is
not
rather than that she is. There are signs I will not mention in front of gentlemen, but a doctor can’t confirm a lady’s delicate condition for a few months.”

With the confirmation of Hawkhurst’s understanding of the situation, Louisa couldn’t help but wonder if he’d placed another lady in this predicament—and been unwilling to marry her. How else would he have known?

Gathering her strength and conviction about her like a well-worn cloak, Louisa came to her feet, waited until Hawkhurst had also come to his. She met his gaze. “In a few months at the latest, Your Grace, I shall give you my answer.”

With that, she walked out of the room that had become as quiet as a tomb.

His mother would never forgive him. He’d never forgive himself. He didn’t want people to know his child’s birth date and count backward, raise eyebrows, and give a pompous, knowing look.

He threw the brandy to the back of his throat, felt it burn its way down.

He’d wanted to rush after Louisa, drop to his knees in front of her, beg her to reconsider, but he
had some pride when it came to his manhood. With both Rose men watching, he’d prepared to take his leave.

Mrs. Rose had stepped forward to stop him. “It appears you are still on the market, Your Grace. Would you care to join us for breakfast?”

He had politely declined.

He had returned home to pace the quiet halls that were devoid of all servants except his valet. The man stayed with him, because he had a penchant for rat fight betting and with a run of luck he’d managed to put aside some money for a rainy afternoon. Hawk was beginning to wonder if the sun would ever again shine.

He’d not handled the situation at all well. His face ached. His anger seethed just below the surface, anger at Louisa for coming to the library to begin with. If she had stayed away, his trousers would have remained buttoned, her skirts would have remained lowered.

But she had waltzed into the room, a temptation beyond measure. The fire in his blood had instantly boiled. Have her once and be done with it. Conquer and move on.

And yet he sat there tonight wanting her more than he’d ever wanted her.

He poured more brandy into his glass and downed it.

There could be only one explanation for his continued interest in her. He had yet to conquer her. She had refused his proposal. She had walked out on him.

He heard the harsh laughter echoing around him, realizing belatedly that it was his own.

The woman was driving him to madness.

He had possessed her, and when he walked into the Rose study he should have been barely aware of her existence. Instead, he had been conscious of every subtle nuance: her fragrance, her hair simply pulled back and held in place with a ribbon. The slight redness in her eyes that told him she’d been weeping. The touch of her fingers against his chin had shot desire straight down to the heels of his shoes. Jeremy Rose had been right not to leave, because Hawk had wanted nothing more than to take Louisa into his arms and have her again.

Slowly, he wanted to take his fill of her. Remove every stitch of clothing.

Their coming together had been unsatisfying in its swiftness. If he could have her but once more at his leisure, then he would never need her again. Once more. That was all that he required.

Acquiring
that,
with her present attitude, seemed impossible.

He was splashing more brandy into his glass when he became aware of the footsteps. Since he was without a proper butler, his friends were in the habit of simply coming into his home as though it were theirs.

He glanced over at Falconridge. “Fetch a glass.”

His slurred words surprised him. How much had he drunk already?

“Good God, what happened to your face?”

“It ran into a fist. Two actually.”

“The rumors are true then?”

He twisted his head around, forced himself to focus his attention on Falconridge. He did wish the man would quit swaying. It made it appear as though there were two of him, darting in and out of hiding. “What rumors?”

“That you compromised Lady Louisa and will soon be taking her to wife.”

“Ravensley tell you that?”

“No. I heard it at the club. Wagers are being made on the precise date when the nuptials will take place.”

Hawk sat upright too fast. His head spun, and he thought he might be ill. “They’re discussing Lady Louisa at the club?”

“Did I not just say that?”

Hawk dug his elbows into his thighs, buried his face in his hands. “How did they hear?”

“Haven’t a clue.”

“Ravensley.”

“Why would he implicate his good friend and his sister in a scandal?”

Hawk lifted his head slightly and peered at Falconridge over his fingertips. “Only the Roses, Louisa, Ravensley, and I knew what had transpired. I alerted him this morning that I’d asked for her hand, and she denied me. He is the only one with anything to gain.”

“No offense intended, but I don’t see how acquiring you as a brother-in-law can be considered a gain.”

“It eliminates me permanently as competition for Jenny Rose.”

Falconridge appeared adequately horrified. “You can’t be serious.”

“There can be no other explanation. It is appalling what we will do for money.”

Falconridge turned and stared at the cold and empty hearth. “I daresay that I don’t know if I’ve ever heard truer words spoken.”

“He’s returned.”

Louisa looked up from the invitations she’d been perusing. Jenny stood in the doorway to her bedchamber. “Who’s returned?”

“The Duke of Hawkhurst. I think he’s come to ask for your hand in marriage again.”

“Why would you think that?”

“Because he wants to see
you,
and he has brought you a small gift.”

“Tell him I’m not at home.” She lowered her gaze to the invitations. Much to her astonishment, Mrs. Rose had not immediately dismissed her because of the unfortunate incident, and Louisa needed to arrange a schedule of activities for the girls for next week.

“I think you should hear what he has to say.”

Louisa lifted her gaze. “Why? I’ve made my position perfectly clear.”

“What is the worst that could happen if you marry him?”

“The worst is that I could be married to a rake
and a scoundrel. He has admitted that the only thing that appeals to him is the chase. Well, I was well and truly caught, without even having experienced the pursuit. I see no point in entertaining him further.”

“I don’t think he’s as bad as all that. I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

She laughed. “The way he looks at me? As though I’m the irritating younger sister of his good friend. Or his past good friend. I’m not even certain that Alex was incensed by what happened. If not for the kindness of your brother, I would have been totally without support. And that hurts as well if I’m truthful about it.”

“As well it should. I expected better of your brother.” She stepped farther into the room. “I fear I’m partly to blame for what happened, and I’m not sure why. Your brother informed me of Hawkhurst’s plans. He knew I had no intention of going to the library, so I don’t know why he sent you to rescue me when he knew I was in no need of rescue.”

Disappointment roiled through Louisa. Her brother had betrayed her much more thoroughly than she’d thought. It made no sense. Why would he do that?

“I did not see you in the ballroom.”

“I must admit to having a weakness where sampling passion is concerned. The duke is a very virile man and I was incredibly tempted to taste what he was offering, but I wanted no more than a taste. I did not wish to eat the entire meal,
so I asked Falconridge to take me on a turn about the garden—to remove temptation.”

Louisa sighed. “I wish you’d confided in me.”