Page 11 of A Virgin for the Rakish Duke (Romancing a Rake #3)

CHAPTER ELEVEN

T he carriage came to a halt outside the village of Danbury. Jeremy leaned out of the window, looking along the lane that led towards Oaksgrove. The woods containing the grove were visible, as were the chimneys of the house itself.

Damn you, Ralph, for making this so difficult. I must wait in secret for your sister to be smuggled out of the house lest your spies report back to you.

His hand tightened on the door as he glimpsed two light figures making their way down the lane towards him. One would be the Dowager Countess, Ralph and Harriet's grandmother. Harriet's co-conspirator. The other would be Harriet.

I was overbearing when she arrived at Penhaligon three days ago. I should have been gentler, but the sight of her in what amounts to the dress of a servant was too much. She deserves far more.

His eyes were fixed on Harriet as she approached, and he felt a thrill at the thought that she could see him, that she was looking back. He alighted from the carriage and stood patiently, waiting for them to reach him.

There were, in truth, better uses of his time than awaiting a lady on his arm to promenade through Hyde Park. But if that was her wish, he would yield. The dinner had been a success; now he needed to build on it. And for that, he required Harriet’s full and willing cooperation.

Happy wife, happy life.

“Good morning, Your Grace,” the Dowager Countess called out upon drawing a suitable distance closer.

“Good morning to you, too, Your Ladyship, and a fine morning it is,” Jeremy smiled back.

“A fine morning, indeed. For travel and for visiting with friends. Harriet is to be spending the evening with the Sullivan family of Beckwith House.”

She looked at him pointedly, and he bowed his head in acknowledgment of the lie they were telling.

“I am grateful that Harriet has such a trusted ally in you, Your Ladyship.”

She arched a brow. “I can be an implacable enemy, also, and will not hesitate to be so if my granddaughter is taken advantage of,” the Dowager Countess continued, stepping close to Jeremy and fixing him with a steady stare.

“Grandmama, His Grace has no intention of taking advantage of me in any way,” Harriet murmured sideways. “If anything, the advantage is mine. He needs me, and I mean to use him for a taste of freedom.”

She wore pale cream and soft yellows. It emphasized her femininity. Her scent was subtle and fresh, floral with a hint of citrus. It made him want to breathe deeply, to lean closer to her and bury his face amid her dark hair. He had moved half a step toward her before regaining control of himself.

“We have entered into an agreement of mutual benefit,” he said to both women.

“We have,” Harriet replied with a bright smile, “though I feel I am benefiting more, I am sure.”

“Only because I have not explained the entirety of the benefit I am deriving from this arrangement.”

“And that is?”

“Unnecessary to discuss. You know that I must be well thought of by the Winchesters. That is all.”

Gently now. This is too important to drive her away.

Jeremy suddenly felt the weight of every Penhaligon Duke that had gone before him. The soldiers and the politicians. The great men who had left their mark on the country. It made his chest constrict, left him anxious to achieve his goals, to earn his place among them.

“Shall we go then?” Harriet began hopefully, her smile brittle, “It is a long way to London.”

She bade farewell to her grandmother and stepped into the carriage. Jeremy followed. The Dowager Countess turned and began to retrace her path back towards the house.

“Is this really necessary?” He could not help but ask as the carriage began to pull away.

“My friend Jane is promenading through Hyde Park with her beau. I have never seen Hyde Park up close and wish to,” she furrowed her brows. “Why do you object?”

“Because it takes me away from my business. I have much still to plan, and walking in public simply to be seen seems frivolous to me.”

“And spending money at the gaming table or getting drunk is not?”

Jeremy looked at her sideways and saw the challenge in her brilliant emerald eyes. He found himself smiling despite his irritation at being so challenged. She was bold as a lion.

“And who told you I spend my time embroiled in such activities?” he asked.

“It is how Ralph used to spend his time before he inherited his title and grew up. I know that you and he were as thick as thieves along with Jane's older brother, Lord Nash,” she answered.

Jeremy felt an unreasonable need to justify himself, simply to impress this woman.

I will not pander to her or anyone else except the Winchesters. They are the only ones I must impress.

He realized he had been drinking in her eyes for a long, silent moment. His mind went back to the evening in which she had spent under his roof.

A long and sleepless night spent reminiscing on her sweet voice accompanying Lady Margaret's playing. Knowing I had her so close to my bedchamber. So warm. So soft, and... stop!

He immediately looked away, clearing his throat and gazing out of the window. Harriet shifted in her seat.

“You should sing more often,” he began awkwardly, “your voice the other night was quite delightful.”

“Thank you. I... I did enjoy it,” she replied, sounding taken aback by the sudden compliment.

It had taken Jeremy aback as well. Consciously, he had only wanted to say something innocuous. Something about the weather or the countryside they were passing through.

This woman muddles my mind. When have I ever been so addled by a perfume or a pair of eyes? I must get a hold of myself.

“There is little pleasure to be had in singing for oneself. Far better to perform and see the appreciation in others,” Harriet started.

“Then do so,” he replied, still looking away from her.

If I must stare at cows for this entire journey to avoid being ensnared by bright green eyes and acting the fool, then that is what I shall do.

“It is difficult when one's guardian is so assiduous in his task. Ralph does not allow me into spaces where there might be an audience to hear me.”

That touched Jeremy enough that he peeked at her finally.

There was a rawness in her eyes as she looked back at him.

She tossed back her raven hair, and Jeremy was rewarded with the sight of her pale, lovely neck.

So close that the smallest motion of his body would bring his mouth to that throat.

To brush his lips against her silky, soft skin.

To feel her pulse quicken, hear the soft gasp of pleasure…

When she looked back, he realized he’d been staring again. He was about to turn away when the carriage lurched violently. Harriet cried out, the jolt sending her hard against him. Instinct took over; his arms wrapped around her waist.

For a moment, her face was pressed to his neck, and he shuddered at the feel of her warm lips briefly pressed against his skin. Briefly, but with such force—even if the force was simply the product of motion, not intent.

The carriage screeched to a halt with the ugly sound of splintering wood. Then, with a cracking snap, it dropped at one side.

She screamed. Her reaction was quite out of proportion to the mild shock of the sudden halt, and she clung to him with both arms, burrowing her face into his chest like a frightened kitten.

“I am sorry, Your Grace!” bellowed his driver, Bert Moss, from outside the carriage. “There’s a large pothole in the road, and I must’ve missed it in the glare of the sun.”

“Never mind, man. What is the damage?” Jeremy managed to say.

The concerned face of the driver appeared at the window a second later.

“Wheel's broken and the axle’s snapped.”

Jeremy pinched the bridge of his nose. “Very well. Go to the nearest farm and get a cart to come out and tow the carriage off the road. We can use the horses to go back to Penhaligon for the trap and continue our journey.”

“Right you are, Your Grace,” Moss said, opening the door and offering a rough hand.

But Harriet clung even tighter to Jeremy, refusing to move or to let him move. He waved Moss away.

“Unhitch the horses and take one to the nearest farm. I shall take care of Lady Harriet.”

What has the woman so terrified? A minor shock, a little fright at the sudden jolt. That is all it should be.

“Harriet,” he whispered.

“I cannot… I cannot move. It is happening again. We are cursed,” she stammered.

“A small accident only, and no harm done to anyone. But we must vacate this carriage in case someone else comes along this road and collides with us. There is no immediate danger. I promise.”

He felt her shake her head against his body and tighten her grip.

“Why do you believe you are cursed?” he asked gently, whispering so that his voice would not frighten her.

“It is the same thing that happened to my parents. The very thing Ralph feared would happen to me. That is why he does not allow me to travel in any but our own carriage and insists it is examined daily for defects.”

Jeremy frowned at her words. “Well, this was a simple accident. Bert is a careful driver, and as such, no harm came to us when an imperfection in the road assaulted our wheels. No curse. Just a badly maintained road and bright sun getting in his eyes.”

Harriet peeked up; her eyes were filled with frightened tears.

Her chin trembled, lips pressed tightly together as though she fought to contain her fear.

But it was breaking through. The mild shock had ostensibly unearthed a deep-seated terror.

He cursed Ralph for sowing the seeds of it with his paranoia.

He felt an overpowering urge to protect her, shelter her.

She seemed so fragile in that moment. Unbearably feminine.

Intoxicating in her beautiful vulnerability.

Suddenly, she pressed her lips against his. And he was lost.

Thought evaporated like water hitting hot metal.

Her kiss began softly but deepened as passion was ignited within her, overtaking the fear.

He found himself running his fingers through her silky, dark hair.

His touch reached the back of her neck and then stroked the sides of her throat, the fragility he had known he would find there arousing him.

No! We made an agreement that this would not happen, and she already thinks me a rake. I cannot be in a situation where it seems I have taken advantage...

Ending the kiss was the most difficult thing he had ever done. But he managed to put her to arm's length. For a moment, her eyes remained closed and her lips pursed in the act of kissing. Jeremy's resolve almost shattered at that vision of feminine abandon to pleasure. Then her eyelids fluttered.

“Please,” she whispered, “hold me.”

“How can I resist that?” he murmured back.

“I am sorry, I am so frightened, and...”

Jeremy hauled her back into his arms, brushing aside common sense, plans, and agreements alike.

The passion she roused in him left no room for reason—fueled now by the vulnerability in her eyes.

As he had once abandoned propriety for the reckless thrill of a French mistress at the Chelmsford ball, so he abandoned it again… but this time for her.

His mouth left hers to find the curve of her neck, sweeping her hair aside to taste the skin beneath. She gasped, fingers knotting in his hair, holding him there when he would have moved. He bit lightly, savoring her, breathing her in until her scent burned through him like strong brandy.

His hand roamed down her back, tracing the narrowing of her waist, gliding over the swell of her hip, and along her thigh. She shivered at the contact—then again when he slid back up. Through her skirts, his fingers followed the lines of her legs, cupping the glorious roundness of her bottom.

She pressed herself to him, her breasts crushed against the solid wall of his chest. Their softness was glorious. He tightened his grip on her derrière, relishing the shudder he felt running through her.

“There's a farm about a mile up the road, Your Grace. I'll take Silver with your permission to make the journey quicker,” Moss said from outside.

“Yes, go, with all speed!” he snapped.

Harriet looked at him with wide eyes and lips parted. Her apple cheeks were aflame. They listened silently for the hoofbeats receding into the distance. He leaned in for another kiss, but she put her finger to his lips.

“No, I am sorry… I should not have asked for this. We had an agreement. We should stick to it, or this arrangement will become very... very complicated.”

He growled in frustration, but she was only voicing his own common sense, and he knew it.

“Then let us get out of this carriage if you are feeling up to it now,” he said harshly.

Harriet looked after him, lips pressed in a thin line. “I said I was sorry. I… I do not know what came over me.”

Jeremy opened the door and pulled himself out before reaching back to help Harriet. The tilt of the carriage was not extreme but enough to make alighting awkward.

“Let it not be said that I tried to take advantage. If anything, it was the opposite,” he remarked as she took his hand.

At that, she released it immediately and then pushed his offer of help aside.

“I was terrified, but rest assured that I will not seek comfort from you again in that way. I will face my own fears. I do not want to compromise you.”

She clambered out without his help, and he stepped down to the ground, suddenly angry.

Now I am the villain? Because I responded to her distress with gallantry? I will not try to be the chivalrous knight again. There will be a gulf between us that shall not be crossed from this point on. I will think only of the Winchesters and the El Dorado, my own city of gold.