Page 35 of Her Temporary Duke (Rakes and Roses #2)

His lips clashed with hers in a kiss that was all molten heat and barely reined hunger. Then, his mouth blazed a path downward, dragging along the column of her throat, pausing to taste the hollow just above her collarbone before drifting lower. She felt each kiss like a brand on her skin.

When he reached her breasts, her breath shattered.

His tongue circled one nipple, then the other, slow and unhurried.

He suckled with devastating patience, drawing each taut peak into his mouth until her spine bowed and her hands clutched the arms of the chair in frantic search of something to hold.

His teeth grazed just enough to send lightning straight to her core, then soothed the sting with the warm, silken sweep of his tongue.

And still, he descended.

Charlotte’s thighs trembled as he knelt again, broad shoulders settling between them. His palms eased her knees apart, coaxing her open like a bloom. She let herself fall into it—this wicked, wondrous unraveling.

The cool air caressed her slick heat, and she shivered, exposed and aching.

“ Seth —” she started, but the words fell apart on her tongue.

He kissed the inside of one thigh. Then the other. Her hands flew to the arms of the chair as his mouth moved closer—closer—and then—

“ Oh …” she breathed.

She hadn’t known. Hadn’t even imagined. That a man’s mouth could do this.

His tongue was slow at first, teasing, tracing delicate, maddening patterns against the most sensitive part of her. She shuddered, thighs tensing. She tried to close them, instinct and disbelief at war inside her. But his hands came up, firm on her hips, keeping her open.

She moaned. It was soft at first, then louder as he deepened the rhythm. Each flick of his tongue sent sparks cascading down her spine. Every press of his lips built the tension inside her like the rising of a tide.

She couldn’t stay still. Her hips rocked. Her fingers slid into his damp hair, tangling, desperate to ground herself. The sensations were exquisite, foreign, and utterly addictive. She was being devoured… made sacred by his mouth.

And Seth— God above —he was relentless!

“Please,” she gasped, not knowing what she begged for. More ? Mercy ?

He growled softly, the vibration of it making her cry out. His tongue found a new rhythm, and her body answered with helpless urgency.

The pressure inside her built… and built. Until it was a relentless, pulsing ache that clawed higher with every second. She felt like she might shatter. Her vision blurred. Her breath came in broken sobs.

“I… I can’t—” she gasped.

Pleasure surged through her in a wave so powerful it consumed her voice, her thoughts, her entire world. She came apart on his tongue, hips jerking, thighs trembling around his head. The ecstasy was overwhelming, like a fire lit inside her that was white-hot and unending.

And he didn’t stop. He guided her through, lapping at her as though her release was the sweetest nectar he’d ever tasted.

When she could breathe again, when her limbs returned to her, Charlotte’s eyes fluttered open to find him watching her reverently.

His lips were wet. His hair was a mess from her fingers. He looked completely undone.

And she’d never felt more beautiful in her life.

“Charlotte, you have arrived at last!” Uncle Henry called out as Charlotte and Seth walked to the front door of Hamilton House. He had appeared clad in tweeds and carrying a rifle on his shoulder from the direction of the park.

“ Amelia , Uncle Henry,” Charlotte replied, “I am Amelia. Come from London to visit with my sister.”

“Good Lord!” Uncle Henry boomed, “ Amelia ? Are you certain? You look exactly like our Charlotte to me.”

“Quite sure, Uncle Henry,” she grimaced. “Charlotte and I are twins, after all.”

“Ah, yes, I had forgotten. And who might this charming fellow be?”

“His Grace, the Duke of Bellmonte,” Charlotte introduced.

Henry swiped his hat from his head instantly. “Your Grace, what an unexpected honor. I am not familiar with your family, but I don’t get down to London much. My estates here occupy much of my time.”

“You have a fine estate, Lord Stockton,” Seth commended, taking in the surroundings, “and a majestic house at that.”

Henry visibly preened under the praise and waved them towards the house.

“Enter, enter. I shall have tea prepared for us and introduce you to my wife and daughters. Charlott— Amelia , I do not recall that you will ever have met them.”

“I have not,” Charlotte smiled, “I have been looking forward to making their acquaintance almost as much as seeing my dear sister again.”

As they started walking to the front door, Seth suddenly noticed how they had been greeted.

“You said arrived at last, Stockton. Were you expecting your niece soon?”

“Ah, no. I must have misspoken,” Henry chortled. “She went away about a month ago, and we’ve not heard from her since. She has post unopened, so clearly, we are not the only ones left in the dark to her whereabouts. She did say that she was going to visit with you, Amelia. Did you not see her?”

Charlotte had not considered this in her story. Of course, she had told her family that she was going to visit her sister in London. It hadn’t occurred to her that it might seem strange if Amelia suddenly turned up wanting to visit Charlotte.

“Yes, of course, we did for a few days. And arranged to return the visit so that Amelia could meet her cousins,” Seth put in smoothly.

They walked in, and Charlotte had to remind herself that she did not know her way around this house. Henry directed them to the reception room, leaving them to inform his wife and daughters of their guests.

“That was quick thinking,” Charlotte whispered.

“It would not be the end of the world if they knew the truth. The two of you have not done anything wrong; it is a child’s game, no more,” Seth reminded gently.

“I know, but until I have spoken to Amelia, I do not want to end this particular game. She may have reasons for not wanting to,” Charlotte murmured. “I wonder where she could be? I suppose I just assumed that she was here, despite not responding to my post.”

“There are no other properties in the estate that she could have taken up residence within?” Seth asked.

“None that belong to us or the Nightingales.”

“What of the house you lived in with your mother and father?” he added.

“Sold after my father’s death. Mother needed the funds. I did not know it at the time, I was too young. But I discovered it later. I do not remember the place anyway.”

“And the house in Carlisle where you lived with your mother?”

“Rented. She might have gone there, I suppose, if it were vacant. And if Reginald is to be believed, financing it would not have been an issue.”

The door opened, and Aunt Judith swept imperiously into the room.

“Amelia, I have not seen you since you were a little girl, dear! Do you remember your sweet aunt?”

“I do indeed, Aunt Judith,” she tried for a beam. “And I am only sorry that it has been so long since I was last in your company. Are these my cousins?”

Emmeline, Jean, and Alice had filed into the room behind their mother. Charlotte made introductions, and everyone looked suitably impressed by Seth’s rank, though he appeared uncomfortable when Charlotte disclosed it.

“I am disappointed to have missed my sister,” Charlotte said as they sat down to tea, “I probably should have written in advance of my visit.”

“Cousin Charlotte has had a few letters in the last few weeks, more than she has had written to her in the last year,” Emmeline said.

“Did she say where she planned to go after visiting with me?” Charlotte asked.

“No, simply that she was traveling to London,” Aunt Judith said.

Then she did not make a return trip at all in my stead. The last they saw of me was… me.

“Of course, you might ask Viscount Beswick; he might know,” Jean chimed in the tone of one sharing gossip.

It earned her a stern look from her mother.

“Luke?” Charlotte said, then instantly regretted it. Although Charlotte had written of Luke to Amelia many times, the pair were not on such familiar terms.

“I mean, is the Viscount of Beswick friendly with Charlotte? She mentioned a friendship with him.”

“My daughters suffer from the modern malady of gossip, both listening and sharing,” Aunt Judith waved away.

“Hardly gossip, Mama,” Jean protested, “they have been seen together. I have it on reliable authority.”

“And where is that?” Charlotte asked.

“Promenading at the races in York,” Jean said with a touch of pride.

“And at the assembly rooms,” Alice put in conspiratorially.

“In the past month?” Charlotte pressed, and Jean nodded subtly as if it were the greatest secret.

That would mean Amelia somehow found Luke but decided against arriving at Hamilton House. Why?

“Perhaps we should pay a visit to the Viscount Beswick, then?” Seth suggested. “Does he live nearby?”

“The priory is only a few miles away,” Emmeline said.

“He is not there,” Uncle Henry put in unexpectedly.

All eyes turned to him, and he blinked in surprise at the attention.

“I went over there stalking a particularly fine stag and was told by the agent that he had gone to Scotland.”

“Agent?” Aunt Judith demanded, turning her full and formidable attention onto her husband, “Whatever do you mean, Henry? What agent?”

“Well, I presume since his mother died, that young Beswick wanted a change of scenery—”

“ Died ?” Charlotte all but spluttered, directing the room of eyes her way this time, before reprimanding herself again for speaking out of turn. “I—I mean to say, how unfortunate.”

“Ah, yes,” Uncle Henry nodded slowly, “and he has decided to sell Beswick Priory. The agent was in the process of valuing the place and arranging the sale. No shortage of buyers, I’m thinking.”

His mother died? Oh, how tragic for Luke… and I had not been there to console him in his time of need…

A terribly guilt-laden pit grew in Charlotte’s belly. She had not considered what the consequences of not being herself for a while might have been for those she cared for.

“How could you know something like this and not tell us, Papa?” Emmeline cried out.

“None of you were particularly friends with young Beswick, only Charlotte. It didn’t seem to be the kind of news you would find interesting,” Uncle Henry protested.

“A neighbor of ours decides to move, selling his ancestral home, and you do not think it is worthy of note,” Aunt Judith tutted with disgust, “honestly, Henry, I despair.”

“Did he say where in Scotland?” Charlotte asked, trying to keep the urgency from her voice.

“Oh, I don’t know. It went in one ear and out the other, so to speak. Stra — something. Strath perhaps? That’s a name the Scots use, isn’t it? I cannot recall in all honesty.”

Charlotte looked at Seth and saw her own despair in his eyes. Their only leads were now an old and derelict home in Carlisle and the entire country of Scotland.

If Amelia had indeed, by some miracle, gone with Luke to Scotland, they could be anywhere. What chance of finding them before the term of the marriage clause expired? That was just over a week away.