Page 32 of A Bride for the Wicked Duke (Claimed by Regency Devils #2)

Caroline edged cautiously into the room and then, with just as much caution, closed the door behind her.

“I see you made your choice,” the Duke said.

“Did I have one?”

He was standing by the end of the bed, looking at her in a way that confirmed that perhaps this was not the best idea. It wasn’t threatening, and she did not think that he meant her any harm. It was the power in his stance that unsettled her, the dominance in the stare that he fixed her with.

He was so controlled, so calm and commanding, and not at all worried about the situation or concerned with how inappropriate it was. Did that mean he thought nothing of her? Or that it would not bother him if something untoward happened?

Her heart began to race, and her limbs began to tingle. This, of course, brought with it shame—a feeling that was becoming far too common today for her liking.

“We always have a choice,” he said with a shrug. “Perhaps not the ones we wish for, but they are our choices to make, nonetheless.”

“Like the one you made,” she ventured bravely, still hovering by the doorway. “You did not have to ask for a single room.”

“True enough.” He turned his back on her and then, she realized, began to unbutton his shirt. “I felt it was the right choice to make, considering the circumstances.”

“And what circumstances are those?”

He turned around, his shirt open.

Despite Caroline’s best efforts, her eyes strayed to his chest. It was covered in a thick mass of dark hair, bulging muscles hidden beneath. Her mouth dropped open, and her pulse quickened.

“I expect to leave early tomorrow morning,” he said, ignoring her question. “At sunrise, assuming Mr. Gulliver has fixed the carriage wheel. Meaning, I expect an early night.”

“I…” Still, her eyes lingered on his burly chest.

He smirked. “That won’t be a problem, will it?”

She tore her eyes away and glared at him. “I expect to retire immediately. I trust that won’t be a problem?”

He said nothing at first, his dark eyes roaming over her body in a way that made her skin flush. Another beat passed between them, and he nodded once. “Wait here.”

“What? Why?”

Without a word, the Duke strode across the room, and she gasped, for it looked like he was coming right at her, only for him to step around her suddenly and exit the room without so much as a glance.

Caroline blinked in shock, unable to comprehend what had just happened. Her heart was racing, and her body was shaking, so she took a deep breath to calm herself as she assessed what had happened.

Where did he go? Why did he leave me here so suddenly?

Hope then beckoned, as perhaps this meant he realized the same issue that she was having, determined not to spend the night in the same room, as the consequences would be dire.

She breathed a sigh of relief, even considering locking the door just in case… which she did not do, that pesky voice in her head keeping her from committing fully to her relief because a part of her, no matter how much she wished it would stay silent, wanted him to return.

The door flew open and in walked the Duke again.

“What are you—” She caught her tongue when she saw that he was carrying what appeared to be a bowl filled with water and some hand towels.

“You are hurt,” the Duke said, indicating the bowl. “I presume from the fall earlier. Your injuries may not seem like much now, but if they are left untreated, they will fester. Best to take care of them early.”

“My injuries…” Caroline blinked in surprise and looked at her hands, only just now realizing how dirty they were. What was more, she began to feel a dull throb in her knees from where she had fallen earlier. And her shoulder, where her fall had been broken.

Her entire body, in fact, hurt, and it was only as she was considering bed that it came to her fully.

“You will be needing this.” The Duke strode across the room and placed the bowl of water and towels by the end of the bed.

From the bowl, Caroline could see steam wafting, and her wounds throbbed even more painfully.

“I am fine,” she said stupidly, not sure how to react to his sudden kindness.

He shook his head and sat down on the edge of the bed. “Suit yourself, but I do not suggest it. As I said, they seem fine now, but they will get worse.”

From there, he began to unbuckle his boots, kicking them off his feet.

Caroline eyed the bowl and towels, knowing it was foolish not to clean herself. Her hands mostly, but she suspected her knees too needed some care. Licking her lips, she considered what to do, wanting nothing more than this night to be over with, but she was not foolish enough to not be aware of the consequences of leaving wounds untended.

“I…” She took a step toward the bowl of water. “I will require privacy.”

He laughed as he removed his second boot. “I am sure you would like that.”

“I would appreciate privacy,” she emphasized.

He stood up. “I will turn my back while you clean yourself.”

“I—”

“Do not push me,” he said sharply. “I think you will agree that I have been more than accommodating. My patience, however, has its limits.”

She almost laughed at that, as if the Duke truly thought himself patient. She bit her tongue when she saw the warning glare his dark green eyes fixed her with, and her heart skipped a beat as she remembered his threat from earlier.

“I suppose it will do.”

She walked to the bowl and lowered herself onto the edge of the bed. Then, she picked up one of the towels and dipped it in the warm water. She wrung it out and began to gently dab at the cuts on her palms.

The Duke watched her curiously, a smirk on his lips in a way that she sensed was mocking.

“Something wrong?”

“It may hurt,” he said. “But that is nothing compared to the pain you will feel if you don’t clean them properly.”

“I know well enough what I am doing, thank you.”

He shrugged. “As you say.”

Despite her desire to ignore his advice, she was firmer with her next cleansing, rubbing her wounds roughly with the warm, wet towel. She winced and gritted her teeth at the sting, pushing through the pain. Soon, her wounds were clean, if not tender, and she hated to admit that the Duke was right.

She dipped the towel in the water again and was about to lift her skirt to tend to her knees when she paused and jerked her head up. The Duke was watching her, his arms folded, that smirk still on his lips.

“If you do not mind?” she prompted.

He scoffed and turned his back on her. She eyed him for a moment, making sure he did not turn around. And then, carefully, she pulled her skirt above her knees.

Her knees were a horror show. Smeared with blood. Bruised and swollen. She could see the gashes through the mess, and she winced even before dabbing at them with the towel. Nonetheless, she continued to gently dab at them?—

“Ow!” she yelped in pain.

Eyes wide, she looked at the Duke, who still stood with his back to her.

She glared at him for some reason, as if this was his fault. Then, she wet the towel again, trying a second time to gently dab at her knees?—

“Ow!” She winced and pulled the towel back.

She had barely managed to clean the blood from the first one, but just the thought of doing it again made tears well up in her eyes. She eyed her wounds, looked at the towel, then at the Duke, and came to a decision.

“All done,” she announced and put the towel back in the bowl of water.

“Is that right?” the Duke asked, his back still to her.

“It was not as bad as I thought…”

He turned around and looked at her, one eyebrow raised. She matched it with her own, daring him to question her.

Why do I care what he thinks? And why am I so insistent on antagonizing him?

He sighed and strode toward her.

“What are you doing?” She scrambled back in fright.

“Your wounds will get infected if they are not cleaned.”

“I know that.”

He stopped before her and raised a judgmental eyebrow. “I have some experience with tending to wounds. More than yourself, I would wager. And in my experience, it is always easier when someone does it for you.”

“I…”

Caroline understood what he was saying well enough—that he was offering to help her. But with her legs exposed as they were, her bare thighs showing, the thought of the Duke between them as he tenderly touched and dabbed at her wounds stirred within her the exact sensation she had been desperate to avoid.

“I will be fine.”

He continued to look down at her. “There is no need to appear brave. Best to admit that you are not capable rather than the alternative.”

“The alternative?”

“Infection,” he said. “Which I assure you will be infinitely worse than anything I might do.”

Do you want to bet?

Caroline knew it was dangerous. She knew she should have told him no and not dared to put herself in such a position. Yet the Duke spoke sense, she knew too that she was not capable of cleaning her wounds properly, and most of all… she wanted to see what might happen. As shameful as that was.

“Fine,” she sighed exaggeratedly and shuffled back, opening her legs further for him. “Have it your way…”

The Duke dropped to his knees before her, shoving his hand into the bowl and wringing the towel. Then, he moved between her legs, his free hand going for the skirt of her dress.

“What are you doing!” She snatched his hand. His wrist alone was too thick for her hand to wrap even halfway around.

“What did you think I was going to do?”

“I—” She bit her tongue, knowing she was being foolish. “Just be quick about it.”

He yanked his wrist free. Then, quicker than a man his size should have been able to move, he reached up and wrapped a single hand around her waist to hold her down.

“What are you?—”

“To keep you from thrashing,” he said, holding her steady.

Panic flooded Caroline. That desire to fight, as if her life was at stake! She thrashed, but it was no good. She bucked, but he hardly seemed to feel it. She gasped when she noticed that her skirt had been lifted above her knees and he was already attending to her wounds.

“Will you stay still?” he growled as he dabbed at them.

There was pain, that did not vanish. But Caroline was hardly able to feel it, her mind on his hand, which still held her waist. He was so strong. So large. So powerful . Kneeling between her legs the way he was, her mind went to places that made no sense to her yet made perfect sense at the same time.

Her breathing was heavy, more so as his hand moved from her waist to her thighs. He gripped her right one first, pressing it into the mattress so she could not move as he wiped her knee. She winced, but he did not stop, dipping the towel back in the bowl of water and wringing it with a single hand.

Her thoughts drifted to his hand around her bare thigh. Squeezing roughly but not painfully, his grip was so powerful and commanding. Somehow, the way he cleaned her wounds was soft and tender, even caring.

She found herself looking at his face, his expression tight as he worked, biting his lip. There was more behind his eyes than mere frustration at having to help her. It was a strange thing, but his hand on her thigh began to squeeze a little bit more firmly, his eyes flicked from her wounds to her thighs, and she could see sweat beading on his forehead. His breathing, ordinarily so even, became labored.

She felt the urge to relax under his touch, but she fought it back when guilt flooded her.

This is not right!

It might have felt like it was. Her mind might have gone to places she was determined for it not to. But deep down, she knew that nothing about this was proper—a fear she’d had since she was a girl coming to life and proving she was a liar.

Panic flooded her as she remembered an incident she’d had when she was just a little girl, involving a romantic story she had read, although it wasn’t so much romantic as it was scandalous. Descriptions given in the story which had made her flush, which had excited her! Only for her mother to stumble upon her at that moment and remind her of how wrong those stories were. And why.

“ You are a lady!” her mother had shouted. “ And this is filth! Not real life! Not what is expected of a wife and husband! You ought to know better!”

Caroline’s eyes flew open, and she went to push the Duke away, guilt swarming her because she felt as if she was doing something wrong. Only by then, there was no need.

“Done.” He stood up suddenly, and she lurched forward.

“Wh—what?”

“It will do for now.” He walked across the room, his naked back to her. “When we arrive tomorrow, I suggest you get it cleaned properly. I will make sure to alert the staff.”

“I…”

Caroline studied the Duke, his back still to her, his breathing labored and his body trembling. She could not see his face, but she could imagine it. Not angry, as was the norm. No… There was something else there now.

“Thank you,” she offered. “Truly, that was very kind of you.”

The Duke’s body went rigid at the compliment. She froze, feeling that she had said the wrong thing, certain he was going to snap at her. Silence stretched between them, her heart beating with such force she was sure he could hear it. But still, she said nothing, wondering what he would say, what he was thinking, and, most importantly, what he would do…

“It is time we retire.” He turned on the spot and stormed to the other side of the bed.

“Wh—what?” she stammered.

He sat down heavily, making the bed shake. “I will see you in the morning.”

He kicked his legs up, rolled onto the mattress, pulled the sheets over himself, and then turned his back on her fully.

Caroline sat there stupidly for a moment, unsure of what had just happened, wondering if it was all in her head.

No… it cannot have been. There was a moment there, I am sure of it, so subtle and quick that I nearly missed it. But if I did not know any better, I might have said that the Duke… that he…

She gave her head a shake, not daring to go there. Not wanting to, on account of her guilt.

The Duke was called the Cruel Duke for good reason, and despite this one act of kindness, that wasn’t going to change.

She eyed his hulking frame on the bed, curled her lip as she remembered how he had treated her all day, and then she stood up, walked over to extinguish the candles that burned in the torches, felt her way back to the bed, lay down as far from the Duke as she could, and closed her eyes.

Sleep came immediately.

* * *

When Caroline came to, she felt… strangely comfortable. With her eyes still closed, and consciousness slow to arrive, she couldn’t remember where she was or what had happened to bring her there. All she knew in those few seconds was how cozy her bed felt, how warm it was, how right the world seemed in the moment. She let out a low moan, her eyes fluttering a little, her mind pulling her awake when she wished it would give her a few seconds more.

Slowly, she came to recognize that the reason she felt so comfortable was because of the pillow she had wrapped herself around in the middle of the night. It was large and firm, somehow also soft, protective and comforting, and she squeezed it a little bit tighter.

“Sleep well?” a deep voice growled in her ear.

Her heart stopped beating, and she caught her breath. With her eyes still closed, the pillow she was holding shifted in her grip.

Oh no…

“Not that I require a response,” the deep voice said. “I can figure out the answer well enough for myself.”

She snapped her eyes open and gasped to see a face mere inches from her own. Deep green eyes. A heavy brow. Full lips from which a warm breath traced her skin and filled her nostrils in a way that made her shudder.

Until she lurched back in shock.

“Oh no!”

Caroline had been wrapped around the Duke like a vine around a tree. Legs and arms holding him close, refusing to let go, demanding that he hold her too. She scrambled back and nearly fell from the bed.

“I misspoke yesterday.” The Duke, apparently undisturbed by both the way she had been holding him and her hasty retreat, sat up and looked at her plainly.

His hair was messy, his hairy chest on display, as were those broad shoulders and arms as thick as her thighs.

“Wh—what?” she spluttered, unsure of what to say or what to make of the situation.

“Yesterday, when I likened you to a stray dog.” He continued to gaze at her with total self-control, as emotionless as if he was asking her what she wished to break her fast with. “It occurs to me now that perhaps you have more in common with a monkey, the way you clung to me last night.”

He did not smirk, but she could see the humor in his eyes.

For one so dispassionate, he seems to take a sick pleasure in trying to upset me. All things considered, that really is the least of my problems.

“I was not… That was not what you… I was sleeping!”

“I have known men to keep monkeys as pets. Not my personal preference, but for you, I might make an exception.”

The initial embarrassment fled her and was replaced with anger—an emotion she was becoming used to around the Duke.

“How dare?—”

“We don’t have time for this.” He rose from the bed and started buttoning up his shirt. “As I said yesterday, I wish to leave as soon as possible. So, if you would be so kind, save your tantrum for when we are on the road.”

“Tantrum! I was not throwing a?—”

“As I said,” he cut her off. “For when we are on the road. Now is not the time.”

She widened her eyes and glared ruefully at him. Fury enveloped her, paired with a warmth that spread through her body and made her limbs tingle. Still, she could feel the Duke’s body pressed against her own, the memory of him in her arms and how comforting it was, and how she hadn’t wanted to wake up ever.

I did not know it was him! If I had, I certainly would not have enjoyed myself!

Again, that guilt returned. She had done nothing wrong, she knew. But that did not mean it hadn’t been close. Worse that if it had come to such things, she was not sure she would have had the power to resist…

They got ready in silence, Caroline purposefully not looking at the Duke as she went to the mirror and checked her hair and makeup. She had fallen asleep in the same clothes she’d been in all day, so there was little to be done regarding her physical appearance. Annoying, for a quick glance at the Duke confirmed that he looked refreshed in ways that might have suggested he’d bathed and changed and had a better night’s sleep than she’d admit to.

The silence between them grew, and Caroline could feel its weight on her. Her pesky thoughts returned to the previous evening, and this morning, and the battle that had raged inside her as she had tried to control her urges. It was as if the Duke could read her mind, and the longer the silence persisted, the more sure she was that he could see exactly what she was thinking.

“I wish to remind you of what I said yesterday,” Caroline blurted, desperate to fill the silence and distract her mind. “Regarding my family repaying you for all you have done.”

“It is fine,” the Duke said. “As I told you, it is not a concern?—”

“It is for me,” she spoke over him, which made him flinch, for he was likely not used to being interrupted. “And my family, for that matter. You have done us a great service, and our honor demands that it be repaid. It is that simple.”

He scoffed. “And you think that your family is capable of repaying me?”

Her eyes flashed with anger. What he said might have been technically true, for her family had no wealth to speak of, but for the Duke to speak about her family like that was the height of rudeness! A man of his station should have known better.

“How dare you,” she said with more bravery than she thought herself capable of. “That is my family you dismiss. And for no reason other than… than… than they are not here to defend themselves. Well, I am, and I say it again—when we arrive, name your price and they will pay it.”

His brow creased, and while she expected anger, what she got instead was curiosity. “Is that so?”

“It is,” she said firmly, feeling like a fool because words were wind in this instance, a promise that neither she nor her family could fulfill.

“Your family cannot repay me,” he said.

“How dare?—”

“I know of their misfortunes. I know of their financial problems.” He crossed the room toward her. “Do not lie to me.”

“I… I was not lying,” she said as he came for her. “I merely meant?—”

“I know what you meant.” He was at her, standing over her so that she was forced across the room, her back soon pressed against the door. “And I know you mean it too. I can see it in your eyes.” He held her eyes with such intensity that she was forced to look away. “Which is why you will repay me, only not with money.”

Again, Caroline glanced around the room, realizing how helpless she was. She wondered if she should cry out, only to dismiss that notion because she did not think it would make a difference. Also, she was not nearly as scared as she should have been.

“Wh… what do you… what do you want from me?” She gulped.

“We are to spend this weekend at Aldworth Estate,” he said, staring right at her. “Over the next few days, I suspect there will be many an eligible lady in attendance. Your task, which you have just told me you will be more than happy to assist in, is to find among those ladies a bride for me.”

Caroline did not understand what he meant. At least not at first.

“A… a bride? I do not—what do you mean?”

“I did not stutter.”

“I know that,” she said. “And I understand what you said well enough —”

“Then there is no need for me to explain,” he continued over her. “I wish to marry, and soon. Before this weekend draws to a close, you will have found me a willing bride. Then and only then will I consider your debt paid off.”

She stared at him blankly, understanding the words but still not comprehending them.

He wishes for me to help find him a bride? In the space of a few days? How? And why? Surely, he is toying with me.

“Good.” The Duke straightened up, took a step back, leaned forward, and popped open the door, forcing Caroline to stumble forward as he swung it. “Now that we have that sorted out, I will meet you downstairs. Do not dally.”

With that, he strode out of the room, leaving her behind to unpack and determine what to make of his most bizarre request. Not that she was able to do so in the space of a few seconds. Had she an entire day, she still might not have fully realized what was going on.

The Duke, she was coming to understand, was a complete mystery to her, and this moment right here was but another layer to a man she could not begin to unravel.