Page 35 of A Duke But No Gentleman (Masters of Seduction #1)

He grabbed her by the upper arms and pulled her forcefully to him, his mouth muffling her exclamation.

His kiss was unlike the chaste kisses she had grown accustomed to the past fortnight.

It was rough, carnal, and her blood heated as he kissed her to vent his anger.

If he had tossed her over his shoulder and carried her upstairs to her bedchamber, Imogene would have gone willingly.

This was the duke she had fallen in love with.

“Tristan,” she said, swaying slightly when he ended the kiss.

“I will settle for nothing less than marriage, Imogene,” he said, letting his arms fall to his sides as he stepped away from her. “You know I am not a patient man. But I am trying… for you.”

***

At dinner, her mother accused her of sulking.

Imogene could not deny the charge so she delicately shrugged and continued to push the food around on her plate.

Her exchange with Tristan was a lead weight on her heart.

She had unintentionally hurt him. Her duke was offering her everything she had secretly wished for, but a part of her seemed incapable of trusting her good fortune.

When her melancholy increased as nightfall descended, Imogene kissed her mother and announced that she was retiring early.

However, sleep was elusive. Lying on the bed, she refused to think of Norgrave, but she could not banish the night from her thoughts.

He had been rough, but he had behaved as if he was her lover rather than her attacker.

“Blackbern will never marry you, Imogene,” the marquess taunted. “You have betrayed the man whom you claim you love, and you will continue to do so.”

“You are the one who betrayed him, not I,” she cried.

Norgrave did not react to her words. “You chose the wrong man,” he said, sounding disappointed in her. “However, I am willing to forgive you.”

She flinched when he tried to stroke her cheek.

“Fight me if you must. Eventually, you will come to accept the truth.”

Afraid to provoke him further, Imogene bit down on her tongue to keep from speaking.

The marquess’s lips twisted into a mocking smile. “Even if Blackbern deigns to touch you again, it will be my face you will see when you close your eyes. My hands on your breasts… my mouth between your thighs giving you pleasure.”

Imogene pulled the sheet higher as she shuddered. Norgrave had been wrong about Tristan, but he had been correct about one thing. She thought of him often. It angered and confused her, leaving her to wonder if she would truly be free of his torment.

She rolled over onto her side at the soft knock at the door.

Someone opened the door and peered in.

“Imogene, are you awake?” her sister asked.

“Yes.” She sat up on the mattress. “Is something wrong?”

“I came to ask you the same question.” Verity entered the chamber. She placed the branch of candles she was holding on the table near the bed. “You seemed distracted at dinner this evening. Did you and Blackbern quarrel this afternoon?”

“Why do you ask?”

Verity shrugged. Not waiting for an invitation, she sat down on the bed. “He has made a habit of lingering in the garden with you, but today he departed with barely a word to anyone. Mama noted that your duke appeared to be upset.”

“I thought Mama was ignoring Blackbern?” Imogene asked, deliberately using his title in front of her sister. She had done her best to shelter Verity from the more scandalous details of her relationship with the duke, and Norgrave’s attack. Her mother and father had also agreed with her decision.

Verity leaned back until her head rested on the pillow. “The duke is wearing her down. The last time he called her dragon, I swear, she smiled when his back was turned.”

“He once told me that he would win our mother over,” Imogene admitted. “At the time, it seemed like an impossible task, but I should not have doubted him. One would have to be dead not to fall for his flattery.”

“Including you?”

“Yes,” she said softly. “Including me.”

“So does this mean you will be marrying the duke?” Before Imogene could ask Verity why she had come to this conclusion, her sister went on to explain.

“A few days ago, I overheard Papa tell someone that he expected that you and Blackbern would be posting banns soon. And this afternoon, I came across Mama and the housekeeper while they discussed the recent entries in the kitchen ledger. Mama said that the next few orders would be higher than usual, on account that you and—”

Imogene rolled over and tugged the end of her sister’s braid. “Good grief, you little sneak! How many times do I have to tell you that it is rude to listen at doors? One of these days, you are going to overhear something that you will truly regret.”

“How else am I supposed to find out what is going on in this house?” Verity demanded. “No one tells me anything. And before you deny it, I know all of you are keeping something from me.”

She didn’t evade her sister’s intent gaze. In the candlelight, her sister looked older. While Imogene had been distracted with her own concerns, Verity had been maturing into a young lady. “Why do you believe everyone is keeping secrets? Did you overhear something not meant for your curious ears?”

“What about the night Mama and Papa were summoned to the Ludsthorpes’ town house?”

Imogene rolled onto her back and covered her eyes with her forearm. She resisted the urge to groan in frustration. Of course, it would have been too much to hope that her sister had been blissfully unaware of that horrible night.

“What about it? You are aware that I had fallen ill, and Blackbern was worried. He brought me to his aunt’s house, and Mama and Papa were summoned.

The physician thought it was prudent that I stay in bed for a few days.

You know all of this,” she said, feeling exasperated and annoyed that her sister wanted answers that she was reluctant to give.

“Mama was so upset. She and Papa argued.”

Her eyes widened with alarm. “What did you overhear?”

“Nothing. They were speaking too softly, but I could tell they were talking about you.” Verity bit her lip as if she was stalling. “Maybe Blackbern.”

Relief washed over Imogene. Although her sister was suspicious, she had not stumbled across the true reasons that had brought her to Lady Ludsthorpe’s door.

“Verity, naturally, Mama and Papa were concerned. I had slipped out of the house to meet the duke and I fell ill in his company. Needless to say, my actions and Blackbern’s part in this have forced him to formally declare his intentions to our family. ”

While there were certain omissions she wished to take to her grave, she had not lied to her sister.

“What about Lord Norgrave?”

Imogene started at the marquess’s name. “What of him?” she warily asked.

Her sister shrugged. “He appeared to be quite earnest in his courtship of you. Since he is Blackbern’s closest friend, he must be disappointed that he did not win your affections.”

Imogene stared off into the darkness, her mind drifting to the last time she saw him. The marquess’s light blue eyes seemed to glow with determination and triumph as he held her down. She ruthlessly banished the dreadful memory from her thoughts.

“I have no inclination to inquire after Lord Norgrave’s feelings. However, you may be correct. He and Blackbern have had some sort of falling-out, and the gentlemen have ended their friendship.”

“They fought over you?” Verity asked, excited over the romantic prospect that the two men had fought for Imogene’s hand.

“I am not privy to the details,” she hedged. “And I would consider it a great favor if you do not pester the duke about it. The marquess was once loved as a brother, and even though they have severed all ties, I am certain Blackbern mourns the loss of his friend.”

“So they did fight over you.”

Imogene groaned. God save her from a stubborn sister.

“Even if my affection for the duke instigated a fight between them, Norgrave and Blackbern were on this destructive course long before they encountered me.” She huffed and rolled back onto her side so she could scowl at her sister.

“Now that I have satisfied your curiosity, let this be the end of it.”

Verity was silent for several minutes. Imogene could almost hear the younger woman’s thoughts clicking and whirling like the mechanical workings of a clock. She did not have to wait long before another question emerged.

“You never answered my question.” She ignored Imogene’s exaggerated sigh. “Why were you and the duke quarreling this afternoon? Does it have something to do with Lord and Lady Ludsthorpes’ ball next Wednesday?”

“If I answer your question will you cease your annoying habit of eavesdropping on private conversations?”

“I promise,” her sister hastily vowed.

“On your honor?” she added, doubting her sister would be able to pass by a closed door without pressing her ear to it.

“Imogene!” Verity exclaimed, taking offense. “I promised, did I not?”

“I shall be cross if I hear of another incident.”

“Oh, for goodness’ sake, if you believe I lack honor then I shall swear upon yours.” Her sister folded her arms across her chest and waited.

“Very well. Blackbern revealed that our betrothal will be announced at Lord and Lady Ludsthorpe’s ball.”

“This is marvelous news! Oh, Imogene, how did he ask for your hand?” Excited, she sat up and clasped her hands together. “Did he drop to his knees to declare his love? Recite poetry? Or better still—”

“The duke did none of those things,” Imogene said, her voice rising over her sister’s to silence her questions.

She rubbed at the mild ache forming between her breasts.

Was it disappointment that she was feeling because the flowery declarations of love she had dreamed of as a young girl had vanished with a single act of betrayal?

Instead of love shining in her beloved’s gaze, she had glimpsed sorrow and rage, and a thirst for vengeance.

He had returned to her bedside with his friend’s blood on his hands, his heart and emotions as tattered as hers.

It was not the sort of love she had expected, but they were bound together in blood, pain, and sacrifice.

“Perhaps you are too young to understand, but I do not need poetry or garrulous speeches to comprehend the depths of Blackbern’s feelings toward me. He has made his intentions clear for quite some time. I was the one who had doubts.”

“Is that why you quarreled with him?”

“In part.” Imogene blinked away the sudden sting of tears. “I fear that I am unworthy to be his duchess.”

She gasped in surprise at Verity’s impulsive embrace.

“Oh, you silly goose,” her sister teased. “Blackbern obviously disagrees. You and he are perfectly wonderful together. You worry for naught. You were born to be his duchess.” She pulled away as an unpleasant thought occurred to her. “Unless… do you love him?”

“So much so, I might burst from it.”

“Then all will be well, sister.”

Imogene nodded. With Verity at her side, she could almost believe it.