Page 10 of The Cursed Duke (Wayward Dukes' Alliance #19)

July 31, 1815

Fitzroy House

Manchester Square

Mayfair, England

Giles stood at the drawing room windows with a cup of tea, wondering when Hannah would come home from visiting with her mother and sisters. Not until tea had concluded, at least. He didn’t begrudge her the time away, of course, but oddly enough, he missed not having her with him.

“Your Grace?”

He turned at the sound of the butler’s voice with a frown. “What is it, Jenson?”

“The Duke of Udolpho is here to see you.” Heavy doubt lingered in the older man’s voice. “But I rather think the title is fictious.”

A half-grin tugged at the corner of Giles’ lips. “That’s because it is.” Why the devil was the man here at all? “Show him up, Jenson. He means no harm.”

“Of course, Your Grace.”

A few minutes later, his clubmate came into the room looking for all the world like a typical man about Town wanting to bedevil someone in buff-colored breeches, a jacket of bottle green superfine and a brown satin waistcoat. With curiosity in his intense blue eyes and the sunlight that peeked through the clouds making his black hair gleam almost blue, he grinned and greeted Giles.

“I feel it’s been an age since we last talked, Steppingford.”

“Perhaps it has. This week has been a whirlwind.” Made that way due to Hannah’s presence in his life. Where he hadn’t wanted anything to do with her upon discovering her bit of fiction in the paper a week ago, now he wanted to spend more time with her, to know everything about her, for she was accidentally fascinating.

As the other man dropped into a chair, he said, “I apologize for not attending your nuptial ceremony. I was otherwise occupied at the time.”

Giles snorted. “With a woman, no doubt.” Udolpho was quite the rake about London, and he didn’t care that he’d left a string of broken hearts and angry women in his wake.

“Can I help it if I enjoy the ladies?” He rested an ankle on his knee while Giles settled onto a low sofa and returned his teacup to the table in front of him. “How goes the marriage? Tired of your new wife yet?”

“I am not.” It was perhaps the most honest statement he’d ever uttered to a friend. “It has only been a handful of days, and we are still in the discovery stage.” Being with Hannah had been quite the eye-opener for him. His previous courtship had been a long one, and although it had fallen apart once he’d asked for the woman’s hand, the quick aspect of his marriage to Hannah felt infinitely different, almost easier in a way.

“Was the only reason you wed her to get an heir? I’ve heard a few things around the club and wanted to confirm for myself.”

“Or rather Eggleton sent you over here for fresh gossip.” He was well aware of how Club Damnation’s founder operated. When his friend didn’t deny the claim, Giles offered a tight grin. “While it’s true that I do need an heir, and I’ve made strong inroads into setting that particular eventuality into motion, it is not the only reason I went ahead with the wedding after finding out that Hannah made up the whole engagement.”

Interest lit Udolpho’s face. “Ah, then you’ve bedded her.”

“I have. More than a few times, in fact.” That was all he would say, for the details of those couplings were his alone. Just thinking about Hannah’s lush body in every way he’d taken her, with clothes or without had need shivering through his shaft, but since she wasn’t home, he couldn’t give into the urge.

“A bird in hand is worth two in the bush, eh?” The other man lifted an eyebrow in challenge. “Once she is finally with child, will you abandon her to your country estate and carry on here in peace?”

“Honestly, I haven’t decided yet. Of course, I would like to visit the Hampshire property and introduce Hannah to my mother. I owe them both that courtesy.” He frowned, for that would make the whole thing feel all too real. “However, it might prove bad form to hand off a new wife and not go through a pregnancy with her.”

The other man scoffed. “When have you ever cared about what society thinks of you?”

“I don’t, but my wife has lived a rather dismal life already. I would rather not add to that and completely destroy her ability to trust.”

For the space of a few heartbeats, silence reigned between the two men.

Eventually, Udolpho spoke. “Do you love her?”

What the devil did it mean to him? “That is not your business.”

“Perhaps not, but indulge me.” The other man scratched his fingers through the close-cropped beard he kept that defied convention. “Do you love your wife?”

“No.” That was the short answer, and one he would stand by. “I don’t think I can give out my heart again, not after last time.”

“Ah. I assume you loved hard and that didn’t go well? I mean, you are remarkably thick-headed and play things close to the chest. It’s a wonder we know you at all.”

Giles allowed a small grin. “Perhaps that is by design. While I was in India, I didn’t have many people to talk with beyond a superficial social aspect, and though I wrote to a few of my friends here as well as my mother, my attention was given elsewhere.” For several seconds, he thought over his next words. “Yes, I fell for a woman while in India, and when I asked for her hand, she rejected me. It doesn’t matter the reasons, but that scarred me a bit. Made me second guess everything in my life.”

“Understandable.” The other man held his gaze. “Does she love you?”

“I would have no idea.” He shrugged. “It has only been a handful of days. And she was an innocent when we met.”

Udolpho nodded. “You haven’t talked about possible feelings or where you might want your union to head?”

“Of course not. Or rather, not at length. Why should we at this stage?”

“You’re married, you great idiot!” His friend’s expression reflected incredulity. “What the hell do the two of you do when together?”

Heat crept up the back of Giles’ neck. “We converse upon subjects of the day. I’m teaching her about politics and the pitfalls of the House of Lords.” Once more, he shrugged. “I read interesting bits from the papers to her, and she reads to me from various books she enjoys. When I go over correspondence or the ledgers, she sketches. Most mornings, we go out riding, for she is intensely interested in horseflesh. Beyond that, we are involved in carnal things, and I detest conversation during sex.”

“I see.”

“Does that answer your question?”

“Not in the least.” Udolpho leaned forward, planted both feet on the floor, and rested his forearms on his knees with his hands dangling between his thighs. “I can understand that you married this chit to further your line. That is what is done in the beau monde when a man holds a title, but knowing you, with the past that you carry around, the fact that you’ve even agreed to a marriage, and to a stranger, begs questions. Then to find out you’ve immersed yourself in domesticity? Something isn’t ringing true.”

Good God, but he was annoying. “You of all people know that ton marriages don’t always have the softer emotions involved.”

“Ha.” The other man pulled a face. “My situation was different. I pretended I was a titled duke as I have since joining Club Damnation, and when I married, the woman loved me. For the title, but she wed me all the same.”

“Ah, so love must be why she threw a vase at your head that left the scar behind when she found out you were naught but a pickpocket after your stint in the war.” One of Giles’ eyebrows rose in challenge.

Ruddy color crept up Udolpho’s neck and into his ears. “Yes, well, I’m not proud of that. Neither am I proud of the fact that we’d had a horrible row shortly before her accident that left her in a coma. She died no doubt thinking I didn’t love her.” All joviality faded from his expression. Shadows haunted his eyes. “For that, I can never forgive myself.”

All his friends had personal demons they must always fight. “I’m sorry to mention it.”

“Such is life. Are we even living if we don’t acquire scars, both physically as well as on our hearts and souls?” When Giles didn’t answer, his friend blew out a breath. “My point is love is an oddity, my friend. But if you have it?” A wave of longing went through his expression. “Grab hold of it and don’t let go, because it can be snatched away more quickly than you can blink.”

Obviously, the man suffered from regrets, but Giles didn’t mention them, for now was not the time. “While I appreciate your concern—as well as Eggleton’s concerns—I can take care of myself. What happens between my wife and me is my business alone, as are my decisions therein.”

Udolpho’s lips twitched. “I don’t doubt it, but tell me, how is it bedding a plump, or dare I say, a woman who runs the risk of going to fat in a few years woman?”

Immediately, a hot white rage slammed into Giles’ chest. “How dare you!” He bolted off the low sofa and brought the other man up by his cravat for the slight against her. As he shook his friend, tightened his grip on the cravat, he said with a decent growl in his voice, “Do not ever refer to my duchess in such a derogatory way again else I’ll put a ball through your heart.” To make his point more clear, he shuttled the man across the room and then shoved him against the wall. “Hannah is beautiful on the inside and the out. You’ll do well to remember that.”

Udolpho made a strangled sort of sound in his throat. He stared at Giles in shock then with dawning understanding. Punching his shoulder, he asked, “Don’t love her, eh?”

His chest tightened. “Do shut up.” Seconds later, he released the man and put space between them. “It’s complicated.”

“So I can see.” The other man applied himself to straightening his cravat and collar.

Once more, Giles drifted to the windows. “Perhaps I don’t want to love her in the event something happens, and I lose her. I am cursed, after all.”

“Come off it.” His friend snorted. “You’re not; you just say that to explain away life’s ills.” When Giles didn’t answer, Udolpho huffed. “Will you at least introduce me to her so I can form my own opinions?”

“I will not. At least not yet.” He shoved a hand through his hair as he turned to face the other man. “She is visiting with her mother and sisters this afternoon in any event.”

“Ah.”

The butler returned at that moment. “Your Grace, a man from Tattersalls is here with news that he’s delivered your new thoroughbred to the mews unless you instruct him otherwise.”

Damn it all to hell.

“Thank you, Jensen. I will attend him directly.” Then he looked at his friend. “Enjoy tepid tea. I shall return.” Not for worlds would he admit that he’d bought the horse simply because Hannah admired her.

Later that afternoon

Fashionable hour

Dinner was a few hours off, but as far as Giles knew, Hannah hadn’t come home. Of course, he’d had a nap after Udolpho had left, but still, when he couldn’t locate his wife anywhere in the townhouse, mild panic rose in his chest.

Finally, he met the butler in the lower corridor on his way to the entry hall. “Jensen, have you seen Lady Steppingford recently?”

“She popped in while you were napping, and not wishing to disturb you, she decided to go riding in Hyde Park.”

His eyebrows went up in surprise. “By herself?”

The butler regarded him with speculation. “No, she took a footman.”

“Which one?”

“I believe it was Daniel, Your Grace.”

Damnation. Of course that particular footman was the best looking of the bunch, and the most charming. Did that mean Hannah wished to enter into scandal with him? Had she already found him—Giles—lacking in some way?”

“Thank you, Jensen. I shall join her there.”

Not long afterward, once more on Storm, Giles arrived at Hyde Park during the height of the fashionable hour. After working his way through the heavy vehicle traffic and acknowledging a few of his friends as they strolled the pavement, he then followed the bridle path through the park until he finally located his wife sitting on a large boulder with a sketch book in her lap. Once more, she wore the habit she usually did when riding. Every so often, she would glance at the two horses and the footman as they stood several feet away from her before referring back to her sketch book, her charcoal moving across the page.

The uncomfortable tightness in his chest eased somewhat, since it didn’t immediately appear that she was trying to conduct an affair with the footman. After he’d dismounted, he approached her location with the reins in his gloved hand. “Hannah?”

She startled and gasped. “Giles, er I mean Steppingford. I didn’t expect you just now.”

“So I can see.” His gaze cut to the footman. “Please return to your post. I shall escort Her Grace back home.” Once the younger man left the area, Giles tossed the reins over his pommel and let his horse wander over the grass to where her mount grazed. “You didn’t tell me you were going out.”

“I didn’t wish to wake you while you were having a nap; you looked so peaceful.”

“Have you met with friends while here during the fashionable hour?”

“Ha.” Hannah snorted. Humor twinkled in her eyes. “I have no friends, and to be fair, I was never popular with beau monde ladies my age due to my bigger size and penchant for ignoring them.” She frowned, and that practically demanded his focus drop to her mouth. “I merely wished to ride for the pure joy of it and because it’s not currently raining. Afterward, I decided to do some sketching, for you have handsome pieces of horseflesh.”

Would she also think that about the new horse that had arrived? For that matter, had the butler mentioned the new thoroughbred had been delivered?

“And the footman?”

Confusion went through her expression. “What about him?”

“Do you fancy him?” He hated to ask, but he would know if she wasn’t faithful. “Wish to conduct an affair with him?” The damned possession was evident in his voice, but he couldn’t help it.

“What?” His wife stared at him as if he’d gone mad. “I do not. I only took him with me because Jensen suggested it to deflect gossip.”

Of course that made sense. “What about your maid?”

She made a dismissive sound in her throat. “Molly is dreadfully dull. Not like my maid from home, but since I couldn’t bring her, I’m stuck with her. That is not to say I don’t appreciate her, but she has no imagination.” A blush stained her cheeks. “I apologize, for that sounded harsh.”

He couldn’t prevent his lips from twitching with amusement. She had a way of turning a phrase that made him want to laugh. “I see. What have you been drawing?” As he talked, Giles removed his gloves then tossed them onto the top of the boulder next to her.

“Have a look.”

Without comment, he flipped through her sketchbook. When he came to one page where she’d done a rendition of him, half in shadow, he gasped, for it was damned impressive. Is that how she saw him? Not quite in the light but not quite out of it? Interesting, indeed. “You are talented in this.”

“Thank you.” Another blush took over her cheeks. “I merely dabble. It keeps my mind occupied.”

“Mmm.” Awareness of her surged through his blood. After he set the sketchbook on top of his gloves, he eased a hand beneath the skirting of her riding habit. Since they were in a remote area of the park and away from the afternoon crowds, he wanted to find out how far she’d let him go. “There are other ways to occupy your mind, little rabbit, even though you have quite the gift for sketching.”

“Oh.” Her eyes rounded but the blue depths darkened. “You can’t mean to do that here.”

Those continued protests never failed to bring his protective—and possessive—instincts to the forefront. “My dear, I can do whatever I want whenever I want. I’m a duke.” The trembles in her thighs transferred to his fingers.

“Yet what you want is so scandalous.”

“I want to make it clear that you belong to me, and that if the footman—or any man—has the gall to so much as brush you arm, I will kill him.” It was a threat for certain, and he didn’t care to soften the statement. He held her gaze. “Besides, can you tell me that you aren’t curious about indulging in such a thing in public?”

A few heartbeats went by before she answered. “I honestly couldn’t say; it is not something I’ve thought about.”

“Well, let me attempt to change your mind.” Something about his inexperienced wife who preferred her own company over anyone else’s intrigued him, and a part of him wished she enjoyed spending time with him as well, for she hadn’t confirmed that or set his mind at ease.

“But I—”

“You are mine, Hannah. Remember that.” Then he tugged her off the boulder but kept her pinned against the side of it. Because of its enormous size, only his head and top hat would be visible over it from anyone approaching from the path. Watching her the whole time, Giles freed his erect shaft from the frontfalls of his breeches. “Mine.” As she rested her hands on his shoulders, he claimed her lips in a hard kiss designed to tease but also remind her of who she’d married.

As if a match had been dropped into dry tinder, desire immediately flared between them. Tongues met and dueled, but it was a bit difficult to kiss her as he wished with the brim of her bonnet, but that didn’t stop him. He couldn’t help but cup her breasts and worry the nipples into hard buds through the fabric. Damn but he wished he had the freedom to see her naked and laid out for his pleasure and hers, but there was time enough for that.

When she moaned her approval, he marshalled his thoughts. Limited time alone meant attending to the task at hand, and that meant showing her that he wasn’t a man to trifle with, that he was a man who would demand her faithfulness… at least until she bore him an heir. But beyond that, he simply wanted her, as he had from the first time he’d met her. Urgency shot through his member, and he wasted no time in drawing up fistfuls of her skirting, yanking up one of her legs and encouraged her to wrap it about his hip.

When she did then stared up at him with need in those lake blue eyes, he knew a sensation of falling, but then he gripped the back of her thigh, fit his wide tip to her opening, and seconds later, he flexed his hips, impaling himself into her tight, honeyed heat.

God, she felt wonderful.

“Oh, Giles…” The whisper trailed away as her eyes fluttered closed. “That first stroke is always amazing.” Her fingers flexed, dug into his shoulders, and he welcomed the light bite of pain; it enhanced his own pleasure.

He didn’t answer with words. Instead, he withdrew only for the sheer bliss of shoving back into her body, and when their moans blended together, he moved. With her trapped between the boulder and him, he claimed her with quick, hard strokes that went deep and kept her pinned. Over and over again he penetrated her passage, hoped he made a lasting impression on her, that he would do anything for her merely because she was his wife.

Through it all, she mumbled unintelligible words to him, encouraged him, clung to him while meeting his thrusts by canting her hips as best she could.

Perhaps due to the imminent threat of being discovered or the intensity of his strokes, his wife found release fairly quickly this time without any other enhancement. A series of cries left her throat as she gave herself up to the feelings, and she was just as gorgeous as she always was with a flush over her upper chest and cheeks that made the faint smattering of freckles more visible. While her passage quivered and her inner muscles sucked greedily at his shaft, he was pulled into his own release, and he came hard.

“Hannah!” His member pulsed as waves of pure bliss swept over him and he ground into her in the hopeless attempt to prolong the sensations for them both.

Fuck, that was the best coupling yet. Did the woman make the difference? Or what if it was the fact that his heart had indeed been engaged, and he was ignoring it? There were no answers just yet.

She slumped into his arms as her leg slipped off his hip and her foot found purchase on the ground. “You will be the death of me, I think,” she whispered and gave him an exhausted smile.

“Enjoyed that, did you?” he asked while a piece of his heart escaped from the wall he’d built around that organ.

“Very much.” Her giggle was unexpectedly everything. “The feeling of discovery gave the act a greater edge.” She laid a hand on his sleeve as he put himself and his clothing to rights. “Thank you for always expanding my horizons. What an education I am having since I met you.”

“It was my privilege.” Was she always this unruffled? What he wouldn’t give to see her completely undone and uninhibited. “Shall we go home? I’m sure you’ll want to freshen up before dinner.”

She nodded. “If you’ll retrieve my sketchbook?” As he did so and took his gloves in hand, she sighed. “Are you for your club tonight?”

“I thought to stay in if you wouldn’t mind the company?” What was happening to him?

“I would be delighted.”

And the feeling of falling returned.