Page 40 of The Duke In My Bed (The Heirs’ Club of Scoundrels #1)

We cannot fight for love, as men may do; We should be wooed, and were not made to woo.

Louisa lay curled on the settee in the drawing room, her head propped on a pillow and the lamp on the table beside her burning low.

Feeling wretched by the time she’d returned home from the park, Louisa quickly said good-bye to the duke with hardly a glance in his direction.

She immediately shut herself in her bedroom but soon realized that if she were alone, she would end up crying her eyes out and everyone in the house would know it, so she hurried down the stairs and stayed busy with the younger girls until she put them to bed.

Later, when it was time to dress for the evening’s parties, she had no choice but to plead a headache from too much sun. She simply wasn’t up to going out and pretending to enjoy herself.

Louisa needed time to be alone and ponder not only all the emotions stirred inside her from talking with the duke about Nathan and the night he died, but also her womanly desires for the duke.

She hadn’t been able to shake them. Every time he kissed her, she wanted him to kiss her again.

It seemed so unfair that he had ended up being the man of her dreams. He didn’t love her and she doubted he was capable of loving any woman.

But she knew now that she wanted him to love her.

She’d believed him when he said that if she asked him to, he would marry her and fulfill his vow to her brother.

And when she was in his arms kissing him, she was thinking she would very much like to be his wife so she could love him with all the feelings she had inside her—but could she really do that to him?

And would it be fair to her sisters? She’d watched him cringe every time one of the girls screamed, and seen how annoyed he was when Sybil cried.

He’d looked as if he were about ready to chew nails into powder from their incessant talking when they were in the park.

She could allow him to continue being their guardian, but could she subject him to living with her sisters on a daily basis and making a home with them?

She would not live without them, no matter how much she loved the duke.

In time, she would forget about his stimulating kisses, caresses, and embraces. She would keep telling herself she didn’t love him, couldn’t love a man like the Duke of Drakestone.

But she did.

Louisa had changed into her nightrail earlier in the evening, thinking she would go to bed.

And she had for a few minutes, before she was up and donning her robe again.

She didn’t know what was wrong with her.

All afternoon, all she’d wanted to do was be by herself and cry, and yet when the house went quiet and she was alone in the safety of her room, the tears wouldn’t flow.

Her body was tired and weary, but her mind was as active as ever.

She decided she wouldn’t try to sleep again until after Gwen and Mrs. Colthrust returned home.

Maybe then she would finally be able to rid herself of the miserable feelings.

Thankfully, Mrs. Colthrust hadn’t given her any trouble about wanting to stay home.

Only a little warmth emanated from the fireplace, but Louisa didn’t care that the drawing room was chilled.

She snuggled deeper into her robe and tucked her long hair around her neck.

Louisa had insisted that Mrs. Woolwythe and the other maids go to bed so she could be alone, but they wouldn’t until all the fires had been banked and all lamps but the one Louisa was using had been extinguished.

She lay in the semidarkness, wondering how different her life would have been had her parents lived, if Nathan were still alive.

She would probably be married by now, maybe with a babe of her own.

She wouldn’t be responsible for her sisters.

Tears of sorrow for the loss of her parents and Nathan as well as her own lot in life puddled in her eyes, and just as she was thinking they would spill down her cheeks so she could release her pent-up emotion and weep in earnest, she heard a noise that sounded like a light knock.

She sat up and strained her ears to listen.

It would be horrible if Bonnie, Sybil, or Lillian came running in and caught her crying like a baby.

The knocking came again.

Louisa wiped her eyes with the back of her hands and scoffed a rueful laugh as she swung her feet off the settee and rose.

She should know better than to think she had time to cry.

She picked up the lamp and walked into the vestibule to go abovestairs to check on the girls.

Halfway up the stairs, she heard the knocking again and realized it was on the front door.

It couldn’t be Gwen and Mrs. Colthrust back so soon. And they wouldn’t knock, unless someone had accidentally locked them out. Louisa set the lamp on a table and walked to the door, opening it only enough to peek out.

“Your Grace,” she said, her heartbeat racing at the sight of him. He was handsomely dressed in his evening attire, and she was most inappropriately dressed in her nightclothes. She immediately grabbed the lapels of her robe in her hand and tightened the garment around her.

He pushed the door wide and walked inside, closing it behind him. He laid his hat and gloves on the table by the lamp and asked, “Where are the servants?”

“I sent them all to bed some time ago. You shouldn’t be here this time of night, especially with me dressed as I am.”

“This isn’t the first time I’ve done something inappropriate, Louisa, and it won’t be the last. Where are your sisters?”

“Asleep. Why? And what are you doing barging into my house?”

“I came for this.” He gently pulled her to him, circling her back with his strong arms, and hugged her close to him. He laid his cheek on the side of her head and whispered, “I had to make sure you’re all right.”

Despite her intentions, Louisa’s body betrayed her, and she melted against the warmth of the duke’s hard chest.

“I’m fine,” she whispered back, glad her face was hidden in his waistcoat when she fibbed. She wasn’t fine, but oh how the comfort of his embrace made her feel better.

“I don’t think you are, Louisa. I feel your body trembling.”

“It’s cold,” she managed to say, knowing that was only half a fib.

He picked up the sides of his cloak and wrapped them around her, cocooning her into his embrace. She tried to pull away, but he held her to him. She had been at the point of crying all afternoon, and she feared receiving his kindness and concern now would push her over the edge.

He held her tighter and kissed the top of her head. “You might as well be still,” he said softly. “I am not going to let you go.”

She swallowed hard and stopped struggling.

After a few moments, he said, “I want you to know that I’m sorry your brother died.”

“No, please don’t tell me that,” she said. She didn’t want to talk about the accident. She didn’t want to go through the pain of talking about Nathan again.

“I have to. I wanted to this afternoon. You must know, if I could go back and change that night, I would.”

Louisa shook her head, choking back tears and trying to cry silently, as she had at the park, so he wouldn’t know. His heartfelt sympathy was draining what little control she had of her emotions.

“I should have told you a long time ago.” He kissed her temple and the edge of her eye while he ran his hands soothingly up and down her back. “I would take his place so he could be here with you and your sisters if I could.”

“I don’t want to hear that. Please, let me go, please,” she begged, despair filling her. She struggled to get free again, knowing she couldn’t deny herself the relief that comes from crying, but not wanting him to see her cry.

The duke held her tighter, cupping her head to his chest, forcing her to accept the comfort of his arms and his words. “I’m not letting go, Louisa.”

“You must,” she said between choking breaths.

“You don’t know how badly I wanted to hold you this afternoon and comfort you like this.”

As if those were the magic words, the words she’d longed to hear for two years, the tears started flowing and her body started shaking.

She knew she was being lifted into his arms and carried, but she no longer wanted to struggle.

She snuggled deeper into his embrace, hiding her face in his waistcoat again, and wept as she had never wept before.

Louisa didn’t know how long she cried before the sobs, shaking, and sniffling faded. Her throat hurt and her breathing was labored, but inside, she felt better than she had in a long time.

As she calmed, she noticed they were in the drawing room on the settee and she was sitting on his lap.

And she had on her nightclothes! That was definitely not proper behavior for a young lady, but she didn’t move.

She wanted to stay forever with her cheek pressed to the duke’s chest, hearing his heartbeat and feeling his arms wrapped tightly around her.

She took in a deep shuddering breath and lifted her head to look at him.

“You can use my handkerchief,” he said, brushing her hair away from her damp face. There was a little light from the corridor shining into the room, but Louisa didn’t have to see his face and eyes clearly to know he was smiling warmly at her. She heard it in his voice.

“Thank you.” She took the handkerchief.

“Do you feel better now?”

She nodded. “How did you know I needed to cry?”

“It was more that I knew I wanted to hold you.”

His words touched her heart. For all his bluster and complaining, he realized what no one else seemed to know: She needed to be held. And she was glad it was the duke who’d figured that out.

“I’ve heard it said that a kiss can make something that’s hurt feel better,” he said.

“I’ve heard it, too. Have you ever tried it?”

“No. Do you want to?”

“Yes,” she said softly.