Page 29 of The Duke Steals a Bride (Stolen by the Duke #5)

Chapter Twenty-Nine

“C an we go and play with Georgina in the nursery before dinner?”

Isabella’s voice was plaintive, almost begging, as she tugged on Christine’s skirt, gazing up at her with big eyes. “Pretty please?”

Christine’s heart melted a bit as she gazed at the little girl. Beatrice and Georgina were gazing at her with equal looks of hope on their faces. She hesitated before nodding her head. There was just enough time for the girls and their new friend to play before the dinner gong sounded.

“Off you go,” Christine said, smiling widely. “But behave yourselves—do not get too boisterous. I will instruct Miss Mayhew and your maid to watch you.”

The girls squealed with delight, before running out of the drawing room together, their hair flying behind them. Christine watched them for a moment, still smiling, before turning back to her guests.

Her breath caught in her throat. Her husband was watching her across the room, where he was standing with Lady Ridgewell and her daughter, Lady Ava.

Their eyes met and held. It was a gaze filled with promise…and hunger. Christine’s knees started to wobble a little.

Even though I am looking forward to this dinner with our guests, I must admit I do not know how I will survive until he touches me again.

She shivered. It was as if she were captive to him—as if he had ensnared her in this web of longing and desire. The more they made love, the stronger the web became.

She took a deep breath, trying to push down the ever-present, fierce desire for him, walking slowly toward the group. The duke had suggested inviting Lady Ridgewell and her younger daughters for dinner, after the twins had begged for an afternoon to play with Lady Georgina, who they had bonded with at that terrible garden party. It had shocked Christine, just a little.

Where had the taciturn, grumpy man she had married vanished to?

It as if a new man entirely has taken his place. A man filled with joy and delight. A man who is opening up to his children. It is truly amazing.

“The girls are playing again in the nursery for a short while before dinner,” Christine said, as she approached, with a small laugh. “I simply could not resist their entreaties.”

“I would have thought they would be too tired for further play after the day they have spent together,” Lady Ridgewell said, arching her eyebrows. “They have been running around the grounds and climbing trees for the entire time!”

“They certainly have energy to burn, Lady Ridgewell,” said the duke, with a sardonic smile.

They all laughed. Christine turned as a footman approached carrying glasses of champagne on a silver tray, taking one, with a smile. The duke took one, as well. He reached over, stroking the side of her arm quickly, his dark eyes burning with hunger again, whispering into her ear.

“I am going to do something new to you tonight, little mouse,” he whispered, his warm breath against her neck. “Something which is going to make you moan in that delectable way you do.”

Christine blushed fiercely, trying to keep a straight face, taking a long sip of her champagne. She moved away from him, trying not to look back at him. Her face felt as hot as a furnace.

He is insatiable. But then again, so am I.

As Edwin engaged Lady Ridgewell in a conversation about the best operettas currently playing in London, she and Lady Ava took a turn around the room, arm in arm.

“I can see that you and the duke are very happily married now,” Lady Ava murmured, with a small, shy smile. “Something has changed between the two of you. He can barely keep his hands off you…and his eyes are always searching for you.”

Christine blushed again. “Things have…improved between us, Ava.” She hesitated. “I finally feel as if I am not just the consolation prize after Violet’s disappearance.”

“How could you ever be a consolation prize?” whispered the lady, in a kindly voice. “You are every bit as beautiful and charming as your older sister, Christine. You always were. Perhaps stepping out of her shadow has made you finally realize it.”

“You are too sweet,” said Christine, her heart flipping over in her chest. “But I accept that most of the world sees me as second best to Violet.” She frowned. “But somehow, it simply doesn’t matter any longer.”

“It is because you are not second best in your husband’s eyes,” whispered Ava, with a knowing look. “He has given you permission to blossom—exactly as you are.”

Christine laughed. They kept walking.

She pondered the other lady’s words as they headed toward the pianoforte. Was it true? Had the duke’s passion for her finally given her permission to relax and simply be, basking in his attention? And had her desire for him unlocked a key inside of her, as well?

Ava sat down at the pianoforte, her hands resting on the keys. Suddenly, the door opened. It was Jessop, the butler…and behind him, with his hair meticulously brushed, and dressed in one of his best jackets, was Oliver, looking a little embarrassed.

“The Marquess of Browning,” the butler announced, in his dry voice.

“Browning,” the duke said, walking swiftly over to his friend, a surprised, but pleased, look on his face. “And what devilish wind brought you here, I wonder?”

“Good evening to you as well, Ironstone,” Oliver replied, rubbing his neck, looking sheepish now. “I was simply passing the castle and thought I would call. That is all.”

The duke raised his eyebrows. “Passing, eh?” He turned, looking at Lady Ava, still sitting at the pianoforte. The lady’s face was aflame. He turned back to his friend, a sly smile on his face. “I see. Well, you had better stay for dinner, then. The more the merrier, as they say.”

Christine stifled a laugh. Oliver must have seen their guests’ carriage at Ironstone from the road…and thought he would take his chance. Clearly, he was entirely smitten with the beautiful Lady Ava, after dancing together at that ball.

“If you insist,” said Oliver, adjusting his cravat, staring across the room at the lady. He cleared his throat. “And if you have room, of course.”

“There is always room at my table for you, Browning,” the duke said, with an indulgent smile. “It promises to be an interesting evening indeed.”

* * *

“Tell us the story of how you took a gondola ride with a rat again, Uncle Oliver!” Isabella said, gazing at him across the dinner table. “Georgina has not heard it yet.”

Oliver looked embarrassed, glancing at Lady Ava, who was staring at him with shining eyes.

“Oh, do tell, my lord,” the lady said, in a shy voice. “I am all agog to hear it.”

Edwin stifled a laugh, picking up his wine glass, as Oliver launched into his tale—an even more exaggerated version, for the benefit of Lady Ava, of course. His friend was obviously besotted by the lady. He had barely been able to take his eyes off her during the first course and the second.

“Well, you see,” Oliver began, clearing his throat, “it was a splendid evening in Venice, and I was enjoying the most delightful gondola ride. The canals were as calm as a summer’s evening, the stars twinkling overhead—quite magical, really. But, just as I was about to reach for a small gift I had prepared for my… companion, a most curious thing happened.”

“A rat, Uncle,” Isabella teased, grinning.

“Yes, yes,” Oliver said quickly, adjusting his posture as he shot a quick, nervous glance at Lady Ava. “A rat! Imagine my surprise, for the creature had the audacity to scurry right across my lap! Naturally, I jumped in surprise and…” He hesitated for a moment, choosing his words carefully. “Well, I might have—er—made a rather loud noise of alarm. It was not dignified, I confess.”

Lady Ava’s eyes widened in innocent surprise. “A rat?”

“Indeed,” Oliver said, with a dramatic sigh. “But the true marvel was that the gondolier, in his panic to get us away from the creature, nearly tipped the gondola over into the water. I nearly became a very soggy gentleman!”

The table erupted in giggles, Isabella leaning forward with a mischievous grin. “You didn’t fall in, did you?”

Oliver chuckled. “Oh, no, but the whole affair certainly took an unexpected turn. I spent the rest of the ride on the edge, making certain the rat didn’t return—though, I’m pleased to say it never did.”

Lady Ava was laughing softly, clearly charmed by the lighthearted tale. “It sounds like quite an adventure, my lord.”

“I think Browning has been hit by Cupid’s arrow,” Edwin whispered to Christine, leaning across the table toward her. “It is the only explanation.”

She leaned across the table toward him, a big smile on her face, her eyes glowing in the candlelight. “I think the feeling is mutual. Lady Ava is entranced, as well.”

“A successful evening all round then,” he whispered, leaning under the table with one hand, finding her lap. He squeezed her leg. “And I hope it will only become more interesting as the night progresses, little mouse.”

She blushed fiercely. He caught his breath. She looked so delectable this evening in a lavender colored gown, her hair shining like spun gold in the dim light.

Each day she seemed to become more beautiful—as if she were blooming like a flower, her petals slowly unfurling.

He couldn’t resist pulling up the skirt of her gown beneath the table, finding her silky stockinged leg, running his hand up it. She shuddered, her blush deepening, looking equally enthralled and embarrassed.

“Stop,” she murmured, as his hand slid higher, connecting with the bare flesh of her upper thigh, where the stocking stopped. “It is not appropriate. We are surrounded by people…”

“No, it is not appropriate at all,” he whispered, his voice turning husky. “But it is good, is it not?”

“Yes,” she breathed, her head tilting back a little, a dreamy look entering her eyes. “Yes, it is very good, indeed.”

His hand finally found her moist folds, which he simply couldn’t get enough of. He felt a thrill of triumph as well as heightened desire as he hit his mark, circling her nub of pleasure. He saw her strain in her seat, trying to keep herself composed.

As for himself, he was so engorged it was painful.

“You will come to me tonight,” he whispered, his eyes glittering fiercely. “Even if our guests keep us up until midnight. Understand?”

“Yes,” she whispered, visibly gulping. “Yes, I understand.”

“Good girl. I am going to kiss every single inch of your body,” he whispered intently, staring into her eyes, as he kept caressing her. “And then I am going to take you up against the wall.”

She sighed, a hissing sound, which drove him even crazier. It was all he could do to not push aside the tablecloth and lunge at her, to place her on top of the table, hitch her skirts high, and plunge into her silky moistness, over and over.

I will do it one day…when we are alone.

“Ironstone? Did you hear me?”

Oliver’s voice penetrated his consciousness as if from a great distance. He whipped his head around, withdrawing his hand, straightening. His heart was pounding hard, and lust was thickening his blood. Desperately, he tried to focus.

He realized, with a start, that everyone at the table was looking at them. Clearly, he had been so engrossed in his delectable task that he hadn’t heard any of the conversation.

Christine picked up her wine glass, drinking deeply. She refused to look at him. He picked up his own glass, taking a deep breath.

“Apologies, Browning,” he mumbled. “What were you saying?”

“I remember you told me you were searching for Lady Violet. Recently, one of the gentlemen I play cards with mentioned he thought they saw Her Grace’s older sister,” said Oliver slowly. “In London. At the docks…not long after your wedding.”

Christine gasped, staring at Oliver. “Did he see if she boarded a ship?”

Oliver nodded slowly. “Yes. It was a ship bound for the continent.” He paused. “Perhaps France or Italy. He was not entirely certain.”

“Was he entirely certain it was Lady Violet?” Edwin stared at his friend steadily. “Is he sure it was her?”

Oliver shrugged, frowning. “He said she looked like her, but he was very far away and so cannot say for certain.” He looked at Christine. “I am sorry, but I thought you should know.”

“Of course,” Christine stammered, with a small smile. “Thank you, Oliver. Any information about her, no matter how small or seemingly inconsequential, helps.”

Edwin frowned, draining his glass. Christine was trying to hide it, but she was upset now. He could see it in the way her hand trembled on the stem of her wine glass, and the small furrow between her brows.

Damnation. I do not like to see her so upset.

He was still actively searching for the missing lady, just as he had promised her he would. The information Oliver had just given matched the report the private investigator had handed to him about the lady being at the docks. But if Lady Violet Andrews had indeed been there, she was long gone now—she had sailed to a new life entirely.

His eyes strayed to his wife again, his heart filling with such strong feeling, it shocked him. He didn’t want to see her hurt. He would move heaven and earth to stop that happening.

The ferocity of his need to protect her shocked him a little. He shied away from the thought of what it might mean, instead focusing on a plan of action, as he always did.

I will narrow the search to France or Italy. I only hope that Christine can cope with what I find… and it does not destroy her entirely.