Page 25 of A Duke to Undo her (The Husband Hunt #1)

Chapter Eighteen

Dear God! What had he almost done?

Turning the key in both doors to his bedroom, the Duke of Ashbourne then considered even dragging some heavy piece of furniture in front of the main door.

Was that really necessary to stop Lady Josephine getting in?

No, it was more to stop himself from getting out if she did anything as foolish and reckless as coming to find the ducal suite tonight.

Cassius Emerton had never seduced an innocent young lady before now.

Having foresworn marriage, he generally sought only women with the bedroom experience to hold his interest and sufficient independence not to see him as a marital prospect.

He could therefore not understand why Lady Josephine should be so irresistible to him.

Yet he wanted her like he wanted food and water, even air…

“Get a grip, Ashbourne!” he ordered himself angrily.

The knock on his door almost made his heart jump out of his chest.

“Who is it?” he barked, every muscle in his body tensed for the answer.

If it was Lady Josephine, she would likely find herself carried to his bed and mounted before she knew what was happening. Stopping himself from fully claiming her in the library a few minutes earlier had been an act of will that Cassius could not trust himself to perform twice in one night.

How had he put himself in such a dangerous position in the first place? He must have lost his mind, and all his morals with it…

“It is Jones, Your Grace,” answered the voice of one of the senior footmen and the duke let out a long, hard huff of air from his lungs before going to the door.

“Yes, Jones?” Cassius asked tersely, his eyes quickly scanning the corridor beyond the man’s shoulders for any signs of sound or movement.

“I’m sorry to disturb you, Your Grace,” the man said quickly, perhaps assuming that Cassius’ tense face was due to the late intrusion.

“I was walking around the house on night-watch duty and heard strange noises downstairs. All your guests have long retired but I thought you might still be downstairs. As you are here, should I take another man and investigate?”

“No,” the Duke of Ashbourne said decisively, wondering whether Lady Josephine was still wandering the library in a state of déshabillé.

“I was in my study not long ago, and I also heard noises. When I investigated, it was only a guest come downstairs to take a book from the library. You may leave her to browse in peace.”

“Very good, Your Grace,” said Jones with a bow, appearing to accept this partly truthful explanation.

Closing and locking the door once more, Cassius shut his eyes and leaned back against the hard wood. How reckless he had been! That footman could easily have come to the library and found him there, pleasuring the naked and panting Lady Josephine on the vivid woven silk of the Persian rug…

The image of how she had looked afterwards was burned into his memory, her thighs slightly parted and her expression simultaneously wanton and artless. Her sparkling green eyes had widened but not quailed at the sight of the duke’s organ, wanting him, trusting him not to do her any harm.

Well, it was misplaced trust. It was unrealistic for Cassius to imagine for a moment that he might practice with Lady Josephine the kind of careful intercourse and withdrawal that experienced widows and courtesans knew so well? Was he to stop and question her on the days of her monthly bleeding?

No, young Josephine had not the knowledge and neither of them could have had the self-control tonight. Cassius had known as much, and come close to taking her anyway.

I will try to be…gentle…

Cassius had intended to say that he would be careful but then admitted belatedly to himself that he could not.

She excited him too much to believe otherwise.

If he took Josephine, the ravishment of her body would be complete, with all the risks to her health, reputation and happiness that an unwanted child would entail.

Such an injury to her would go against his principles and his honor.

And what of the child itself? The thought of conceiving a child of his body had always appalled him.

While he had never admitted it to anyone else, in the darkest depths of his mind, the Duke of Ashbourne not only feared that he had inherited whatever had killed his father, but that he might pass it down to any progeny of his own.

Even with such moral and deeply-seated scruples as these, the maddening rush of lust-driven thinking had almost overwhelmed him tonight.

What manner of man was he?!

“Are you ill, Josephine?” said Vera, her expression concerned as she drew back the curtains in Josephine’s bedroom and saw her face in the daylight. “Your eyes are so red this morning.”

“I slept badly,” Josephine told her older sister, this being the truth, if not the whole truth.

After returning alone from the library last night, Josephine had cried herself into a fitful sleep from which she had woken several times, only to weep herself back into oblivion.

She could not entirely make sense of what had occurred, or not occurred, with the Duke of Ashbourne in the library last night.

His peculiar words had been polite, and he had taken upon himself all responsibility for his actions rather than blaming Josephine in any way.

Still, she saw no reason to abruptly abandon her as he did.

Josephine could not help wondering whether she had done something wrong, or not done something expected of her.

How could she know? There was no one she could ask.

Her friends would know even less than Josephine and Vera would be scandalized and likely take her away from Ashbourne Castle within the hour.

Maybe this was yet another area of life where every other lady seemed automatically to know how to do the right thing, and Josephine did not.

But in that case, why had Cassius not simply explained?

He must know that she had never done such things with anyone before.

At least in their private interactions, he had seemed understanding… until now.

“Are you sure there is nothing else wrong?” Lady Elmridge persisted, her anxiety making Josephine suspect her face must look very ill indeed.

She shook her head. Even if she could have asked Vera’s advice, she would not have done so.

All that had passed between Josephine and Cassius Emerton was secret and she liked it that way.

Nor could she bear never seeing him again, likely an inevitable outcome if anyone in her family knew he had even kissed her – and he had done so much more than that…

Josephine found herself fantasizing that Cassius had turned back and come to her arms again last night after she called to him, instead of leaving the library.

Why did he not come back and explain himself?

If only it had ended that way rather than in this cold and hopeless uncertainty.

She had to close her eyes to force back another sob.

Vera placed a hand on Josephine’s forehead, checking her temperature and looked her over carefully, seeming to expect something alarming but finding nothing.

“You have no fever, at least,” she conceded. “How is your appetite? Can you eat breakfast?”

“I think so,” Josephine said slowly, nodding. “I will wash my face in cold water and then I will look better, I am sure.”

While she did not really wish to eat, she supposed the Duke of Ashbourne would likely be at breakfast and she longed to see him, even if they could not talk before the other guests.

“Lady Josephine! I have been waiting for you,” called Benedict excitedly as Vera and Josephine entered the breakfast room.

“There is so much to do for the ball tomorrow night and you must help me. I want three reels but Mother says two is enough, and the other young ladies want more French dances when everyone knows English country dancing is more fun.”

Lady Elmridge led them to the two seats beside Benedict Emerton and settled Josephine into a chair with an affectionate squeeze of her arm.

“I shall fill both our plates, while you and Mr. Emerton discuss these urgent matters, Josephine.”

‘Thank you, Vera,” Josephine said rather listlessly, and then returned the morning greetings of Rose and Madeline on the other side of the table.

Her two friends and Mr. Emerton all seemed so happy to see her but Josephine only wished she could return to her bed. She smothered a small sigh and accepted the plate that Vera had prepared for her.

“You’re not coming down with a cold are you?

” Mr. Emerton asked solicitously, taking in Josephine’s face, her disinterest in her food and her older sister’s manner.

“Cassius is not entirely well this morning either. I hope we don’t all start dropping like flies when there is a ball tomorrow night and still so much fun to be had. ”

Josephine turned quickly to him, her eyes having already unsuccessfully searched the room for the untidy dark hair and deep blue eyes of the Duke of Ashbourne.

She thought she saw a touch of something like sympathy and interest in the eyes of Dowager Duchess Nerissa as her desperate gaze circled the table.

“Is Cassius…I mean, is the duke ill, Mr. Emerton?”

“Not really, I suspect,” Benedict chuckled to himself.

“He does sometimes claim a cold when he’s in ill temper and doesn’t want to inflict his mood on others.

Don’t worry about my grumpy big brother, Lady Josephine.

Let me take care of you instead. Shall I send for some hot lemon and ginger tea?

That’s what you always recommend when someone is under the weather, isn’t it, Mother? ”

“What a good idea, Benedict. I shall order it now,” said the dowager duchess, her face as sympathetic and understanding as her younger son’s. “You do look like you need a tonic, Lady Josephine. I hope my son has not been over-taxing you.”

“Lemon and ginger sounds nice,” Josephine said, in appreciation of all this kindness, although blushing a little at the duchess’s remark which made her think again of Cassius, his hands, lips and tongue all exciting her beyond bearing.

“Thank you, Your Grace, Mr. Emerton. I did not sleep well. That is all.”

The lemon drink might be easier to consume than any of the other breakfast fare, she hoped, but Josephine doubted that any such tonic could restore her. She only wished she could go to the duke’s rooms and curl up in his arms.

If they were both so sad, why should they not comfort one another? Josephine recalled the warm, compelling scent of Cassius’ skin and the strong beat of his heart against her naked body. She ached to experience both again.

Instead, she now forced herself to eat a little bread to please Vera, and to drink the lemon and ginger concoction that Benedict Emerton and his mother had procured for her.

Then, she joined with as much merriment as she could in all of Benedict’s enthusiastic planning for the remainder of the party and especially the ball on its final night.

“How wonderful!” Rose remarked joyfully as the three young ladies made together for the garden after breakfast, Lady Elmridge dropping a little behind them to walk with Lady Sudbury. “I believe he must love you very much indeed, Josephine.”

“What do you mean?” demanded Josephine with an alarmed intake of breath, having been thinking only of Cassius and quite shocked by such an idea. “Why do you say that?”

“Mr. Emerton kept those seats for you at breakfast and would have no one’s help but yours for the ball. Then he ordered that special drink for you because you looked unwell.”

“Oh,” Josephine replied, relieved and deflated. “Mr. Emerton is a very amiable young man, isn’t he? Perhaps you could both help with all this planning too.”

“How romantic it is!” Rose sighed with a smile of enjoyment, as though she was watching a play at the theatre. “I do feel you were made for one another. You think the same about so many things: dancing, charades, riding…”

Lady Rose had paid avid attention to every moment of Benedict Emerton and Josephine’s breakfast conversation.

Josephine reflected sadly that her friend might have paid even more attention than she had herself.

Despite her best efforts, Josephine’s mind had kept willfully drifting to Cassius Emerton and their half-ecstasy, half-agony encounter in the library.

“Mr. Emerton does seem very favorably disposed towards you,” Madeline put in more practically, but seeming just as interested in the relationship as Rose. “Whatever his family may think of you, Josephine, I do not think he will let them keep him from your company.”

“I like Mr. Emerton’s family,” Josephine spoke up then, slightly defiantly, not wanting to hear any repeat of her own early criticism of the duke. “His mother has been very kind to me and the Duke of Ashbourne has been…”

She broke off, unable to complete the sentence without the risk of crying.

The Duke of Ashbourne had been her lover?

Josephine thought that was what they had become but had so little experience to judge from.

Without a background of love or marriage, what even was a lover?

She had not been raised or educated to answer this question, although she knew the answer was likely indecent.

Whatever Josephine and Cassius they were to one another, it felt absurd that he could tell her to go away and marry Benedict, especially in that moment. It made no sense.

“I’m sorry, I am very tired and must go inside,” Josephine excused herself before Madeline or Rose could see the tears threatening to overspill her eyes. “I shall find you a later.”

“I expect she’s really going after Benedict,” Josephine heard Rose whisper to Madeline as she departed. “He is her true love, after all.”

How childish the words now sounded, and how silly!

With a sense of sad inevitability, Josephine realized that she could never again share anything of her inner life with Rose.

The old games were over and there would be no more giggling over heroes in novels or building up stories about men they barely knew at balls and parties.

Where Rose was still a girl, Josephine was a woman. Her dreams and longings had now advanced and developed far beyond fantasy games, although they still seemed too strange and unfamiliar to name or lay out precisely.

The only person who might help her to understand herself was the one person who was now avoiding her: Cassius Emerton.