Page 5 of Daring with a Duke (The Jennings Family #2)

5

Ash

H e came to thoughts of her.

And once again in the morning. Because he couldn’t head to the breakfast room with a cockstand. It would allow himself more control, appease the lust so he could focus. Or at least that’s what he told himself. Excuses, excuses.

Guilt and self-disgust had quickly followed, hitting him like a punch to the kidney. Ash had promptly jotted off a note to Lord Bentley informing him of his sister’s presence here and Ash’s plans to send her back to London forthwith.

Ash discreetly studied the woman—chatting with his exuberant daughter—over the rim of his mug of coffee. He drank it black: no milk, no sugar. Lightness, sweetness—those were not things for him. He closed his eyes as the bitter, dark flavor flowed over his tongue .

He was a lecherous, lustful, sick man, and he needed to get Lady Felicity out of his sight and off his estate immediately. Last night when he had lain in bed, his mind had latched onto the events in the drawing room and ran wild with them. Instead of acting the gentleman and warming her with brandy and towels, he had stripped her down before the fire and warmed her with his body, with his skin, his hands, his mouth.

God, when she had given her little speech before she left the drawing room, he had almost expired on the spot. Ready, warm, willing. And the word she left unspoken. Wet . Ash’s cock had been so angry at its denial, he was surprised it hadn’t detached from his person and left with Lady Felicity to her rooms, leaving him a poor, cockless excuse for a man.

Pandora’s bold laughter interrupted his thoughts. Thoughts he should not be having when his daughter was in the same room as him. Thoughts he should not be having, regardless. Sick, sick man.

His daughter was supposed to be the perfect buffer, but Lady Felicity had a very bad effect on him. It was worse than he had initially thought. His thoughts and his eyes kept wandering back to all things Lady Felicity, no matter how hard he tried to prevent them.

Like when she had glided into the breakfast room in her wrapper, her hair tumbling down her back in amber waves. Unbound. Her hair was unbound .

She looked as though she had come straight from bed, and he found himself deathly curious to know if she wore a morning gown under her wrapper. Or perhaps she still wore her nightdress. Or better yet, nothing at all.

Fucking hell. Not better yet. Snap out of it, Ash.

He gave himself a mental shake and glanced at the ladies. His blonde-haired waif of a daughter wrinkled her nose and laughed at something Lady Felicity was saying from across the table in the family’s quaint breakfast room—well, quaint, considering the usual size of the rooms in the castle.

After Ash’s wife had passed, he had the servants clear a room on the floor with the family’s bedchambers to use as a breakfast room. The castle only had the dining hall for meals, and it didn’t seem right to breakfast so formally in a room the size of a grand ballroom. It had been an attempt for him to be closer to his family during a difficult time. He had never succeeded with his sons.

His daughter’s sparkling blue eyes turned toward him, and his lips curved before he caught himself. Which only had her eyes dancing harder. It was somewhat of a game between the two of them, the daughter who could never stop smiling attempting to coax a smile out of the father who never did. He loved her with a painful ferocity.

“I was so unbelievably excited when I found out Lady Felicity was visiting! I had no idea she would be here. Was this a surprise for my birthday, Papa?”

His heart deflated. He hated to disappoint his daughter. “Unfortunately, no. Her visit was just a short one… betrothal discussions.”

His daughter’s eyes dimmed, and he looked at Lady Felicity, hair glinting a fiery red in the soft morning light shining through the arched stone windows.

“A driver has already been instructed to have a carriage readied for you,” he said.

“So soon?” Pandora’s voice was small, sounding much younger than her fourteen years. And it distracted him from the way Lady Felicity froze at his words, at how her eyes widened briefly, at how her knuckles whitened from where she gripped her fork.

He turned to his daughter, the look of shattered excitement painted on Pandora’s face, matching the dejection in her tone. Ash wanted to kick himself. Perhaps he should have hid Lady Felicity’s presence from his daughter. Then she wouldn’t have suffered this disappointment.

He glanced back at Lady Felicity and caught her studying him. Whatever had briefly overcome her—something that seemed to closely resemble panic—gone. If she pushed, if she used Pandora as leverage, he would let her stay. He couldn’t deny his daughter, wouldn’t hurt her for his own selfish need to rid himself of the beautiful woman staring at him.

He drew in a breath and held it, waiting to see how drastically he had misjudged this woman. It would make denying Lady Felicity that much easier. Using his daughter in her quest for revenge crossed a line for him that could not be uncrossed. He wasn’t sure what it said about him that Lady Felicity using him for revenge didn’t cross this self-imposed boundary.

Lady Felicity turned toward his daughter, an affectionate smile tilting up her deep-pink lips. “I wish I could stay, Lady Pandora. But the Duke is correct, I must return to London. Since I won’t be able to join your celebration, would you tell me what you have planned? I can woolgather my entire journey back to London about being there with you.”

Ash blew out his breath and relaxed into his chair. And for a brief moment, he allowed himself a small amount of appreciation—appreciation for Lady Felicity distracting his daughter from her upset, appreciation she didn’t try to use Pandora as a means to remain here.

But other than those minor things, he found nothing else worth appreciating.

Not her warm smile. Not her glowing eyes. Not her long amber tresses that he was sure would look glorious wrapped around his fist. And he most definitely did not appreciate the way her words from the night before stirred something to life inside him, something dangerous, something undeserved.

I want you, Your Grace.

“I am so sad you will miss it.” Pandora leaned across the table, more tendrils of light-blonde hair falling free from her poorly secured chignon. “But I will tell you all about it, and it will almost be as if you could attend! Though I don’t think I could ever describe Cook’s rhubarb tarts well enough to do their deliciousness justice.”

Ash kept his smile at bay as his bubbly daughter related the plans she had for her birthday—the special foods she was requesting for her dinner, the archery competition she had planned. He nodded at the right moments, grunted in agreement as needed.

As she spoke, Pandora randomly picked up her cutlery, spinning them once before setting them back down again. Lady Felicity smiled all the while, commenting here and there on Pandora’s party plans, not once glancing at Pandora’s odd, repetitious fidgeting.

He tilted his head, his mind racing as it tried to work out the puzzle that was Felicity Jennings. Revenge didn’t seem to fit who she embodied. And her response to Pandora just now only confirmed it—not using a young girl to further her plans, not expressing the smallest hint of disapproval at his breeches-clad, fidgety daughter.

He had worked rehabilitating horses for nearly two decades, and he could read people almost as well as he could read horses. Though that might also be due to the fact he spent so much time observing and not joining in conversation.

“I wish I could show you what I’ve been working on.” Pandora’s voice cut through his thoughts. “Papa has a cavalry horse he has been rehabilitating, and I have been practicing dressage with the gelding. We are progressing quite well!”

“I would have loved to see that, Lady Pandora. Perhaps on my next visit you can show me?”

Pandora nodded and burst into chatter about the latest gothic novel she had read. Lady Felicity didn’t bat an eye, her smile only widening at Pandora’s abrupt topic change. She also didn’t make one derisive comment over Pandora exclaiming she practiced dressage—an activity reserved for men and most definitely ill-fitting for a duke’s daughter.

Yes, Ash was sure—revenge did not fit Lady Felicity. He may have misjudged her—thinking she was docile until he saw the warrior come out in her last night. But it wasn’t that she hid something ugly behind a pretty exterior. She was not spiteful, not malicious.

If he wasn’t mistaken in what he saw flash over her in certain moments… She was panicked, fear driving her actions. He had seen it many times before with his horses. Even the sweetest, most forgiving horse eventually broke after taking a rough hand one too many times. And if her speech the night prior was any indication, his son was driving her to this panic.

Self-revulsion ate away at his gut. It was his fault Colborn was turning into a poor excuse for a man, and in turn, it was his fault Lady Felicity was in the position she was in now.

He would speak with his son at the next available opportunity—which should be for Pandora’s birthday. He would set his son straight and hopefully save his son’s marriage in the process.

Ash would not think about how flat and hollow that made him feel. Hopefully, her carriage would be ready soon. As soon as she was off the estate and he couldn’t hear her tinkling laughter mixing with his daughter’s, these unwanted thoughts and feelings would fade. As the saying went— out of sight, out of mind . If only the saying extended to out of dreams.

Ash’s butler stepped into the breakfast room. Thank God. Every smile she discreetly sent his way was like a kick to the heart. His heart seemed to be beating in a rhythm of: Not yours. Not yours. Not yours.

“ Ah, Baldwin. Is Lady Felicity’s carriage ready?”

Silence fell. Ash refused to look at Lady Felicity or his daughter.

“Unfortunately, Your Grace, after the storm last evening, the roads are impassible. Word has it the River Arun has flooded in many places.”

Ash’s heart faltered, stopped.

“So, I cannot leave?” Lady Felicity asked.

Ash slowly turned toward her, her gaze locked on him.

“No, my lady,” the butler said. “Based on the reports, it may be a few days.”

Ash’s heart kicked up again: Shite, shite, shite.

A slow, seductive smile spread across Lady Felicity’s face. One of those smiles that was all lips and all secrets. All knowing.

But it would be fine. He would just find a way to avoid her until the roads were traversable again. It would be fine.

Fine.

Maybe if you say it enough times, you’ll believe it.

Fine.