Page 13 of The Duke’s Ultimatum (Unrelenting Lords #1)

CHAPTER 13

D erek stared at the papers on his desk, and the words began to blend together, making no sense. He rubbed his eyes and tried again. After the third try he pushed the papers off his desk with a growl.

He sat back in his chair, staring blankly out in front of him. His leg began to bounce with pent up energy. I need to get out of here.

Derek stood and grabbed his coat. He called the footman to bring the carriage around. He knew exactly where he could go where he wouldn’t run into anyone from the ton and therefore wouldn’t feel the need to adhere to any of the blasted rules of polite society.

Derek grimaced at the words. Polite society. What an absolute joke. There was nothing polite about it.

On the short ride into the lesser side of London, Derek peered out the window contemplating every decision that led him to this exact spot. Nothing he could have done would have changed the outcome thanks to his blood. This appointment was passed to him by a relative. He was always destined to live this life.

The carriage settled outside a tavern he used to frequent when he was in town on business. He stepped outside the carriage and took in the sagging outer wall, and for the first time ever, he knew how a wall felt. He, too, felt like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. He just needed one night to set that weight down and remember what life was like before inheriting a dukedom.

Derek stepped inside, giving his eyes a second to acclimate to the low light. Despite the disrepair of the outside, the inside was clean and well-maintained. Charlie, the old owner, always refused to fix the outside. “If people want to judge my establishment on looks, then they can drink somewhere else.” Not only did it keep the bloody aristocrats out but the ambiance of the inside held no refuge for delinquents and ne’er-do-wells. It was the perfect place for Derek to escape the pressure of the business world without fear of getting a venereal disease just by touching something.

“Oi! Do my eyes deceive me or is that boss himself, Derek Fletcher, walking through my doors?”

Derek smiled, already feeling freer than he had in weeks. “Charlie, you old devil, you still own this hovel? I thought someone would have tossed you out on your arse years ago.”

Charlie smiled wide, revealing missing teeth. He lost them intervening with a street altercation between a would-be robber and their victim. Like his outer wall, he refused to get them fixed.

“They tried,” he said with a wink. “The usual, Boss?”

Derek tilted his head, relishing the old nickname. It reminded him of his early days in business when a lot of his deals were made in back rooms, Charlie’s included.

“You know me too well, Charlie.”

The old man chuckled as he poured the whisky and handed it to Derek. “Word on the street is you’ve got yerself a nice duchy now, eh?”

Derek sighed. He was hoping word of his new venture didn’t make it here, but London was a small town. He shrugged. “You heard right, but let’s not talk business tonight, mate.”

Charlie let out a loud, cackling laugh. “You hear that, boys,” he looked at the men bellied up to the bar, “the Boss here doesn’t wanna talk business. As if that’s not the only thing he knows.”

“Oi, I ‘eard he knows a lot of other things!” A drunk from further down the bar shouted much to the amusement of the men around him.

Derek raised his hands to quiet their laughter. The men were all businessmen traveling from various parts of Britain just looking for a night to let loose. Derek paid them no mind.

“All right boys. Settle down. I just want a drink.” He found an empty table close enough to the bar yet far enough away from the drunkards getting lost in their cups.

“This seat taken?” A warm, feminine voice floated over his shoulder. He turned to see a voluptuous red head staring down at him. Her eyes were lit with mischief and fire.

She was pointing to the chair next to him. Derek relaxed into his chair. “It’s all yours, sweetheart.”

“Oy, sweetheart. Well, aren’t you a charmer? You hear that, Charlie?” she called without moving her eyes from Derek’s. “This one here thinks I’m a sweetheart. How comes you don’t talk to me like that?”

Charlie laughed as he wiped down the bar. “Because I know ya!” The bar erupted in laughs again.

The woman waved off Charlie as she sat. She extended her hand to Derek. “Victoria Banks and you are?”

Derek took her hand and raised it to his mouth. “Derek Fletcher,” he said after placing a chaste kiss to the top of her hand.

“Wow. You’re not from around here, are you?” she asked, taking in his attire.

Derek shrugged. “Not originally, no. I used to do business here years ago. Charlie and I go way back. But life led me down an unexpected path, and now, I’m back. I figured I’d check in on my old mate to see if he was still alive.”

Victoria snickered. “Barely.”

Derek smiled, enjoying her company and the fact that her soft, pliable body was so close to his. “How about you? I haven’t been here in years, but I don’t remember you. What brought you to this fine establishment?”

Once again, Victoria’s face widened into a bright smile. “I escaped the east side of Whitechapel a few years ago and made my way into London hoping to find work. Charlie here,” she said with a nod in his direction, “took me in, gave me a respectable job, and the rest is history.”

Derek titled his head. “Respectable job?”

Victoria swatted him. “What, you think I’m a strumpet?” Her mock horror only added to her allure.

Derek held up his hands. “I said no such thing. I know Charlie; he wouldn’t dream of hiring girls for our amusement. However, I do know he has no problem with a woman who comes in here with her own mind to do what she wants with what she has.”

Victoria licked her lips as she scooted her chair closer to Derek and leaned into him. Her soft breasts pushed up against his shoulder. “I heard they called you ‘Boss.’ Why is that?”

Derek considered her. “Because I like to be in charge.”

Victoria’s eyes flashed with heat. “Well, well, well, isn’t it just my lucky day? I’ve been known to like being told what to do.” She brought a finger up and lazily traced long strokes along his thigh. “Who would’ve thought someone like you and someone like me would be in the same place at the same time?”

Derek swallowed. This is what he was missing. Someone who knew the ropes and knew how to play this kind of game. Not bloody society games but primal games. The widow knew how to. Victoria knew how to. Eleanor did not.

Derek cursed at the path his thoughts took. Here he was sitting with his ideal woman, historically speaking, and he started thinking of Eleanor.

Derek looked towards the back hallway that led to the back alley. He licked his lips as he leaned to whisper in her ear, “I know a place where we can talk more about our commonalities, if you’re up for it, that is.”

Victoria’s tongue darted out to lick the corner of her lip. His eyes tracked the tempting motion, and he raised his finger to touch the spot her tongue just touched.

“Lead the way, Boss.”

Derek stood, grabbed her hand, and led her down the hallway to the back alley. Night was settling in, giving the alley an iridescent hue which highlighted the gold streaks in Victoria’s auburn hair.

Victoria looked over to the main street just off the alley. “It’s becoming a busy time of night; aren’t you worried about being seen and offending someone’s sensibilities?”

Derek shook his head. “Let them watch, so I can show them the proper way. Besides, the only sensibilities I’m going to ruin are yours.” He pushed her up against the wall which elicited a squeal of delight from Victoria.

“Oh, a rough one, eh? Do your worst, Boss.” Her voice was full of challenge and lust.

Her wicked words fueled the fire that had been simmering for weeks. He attacked her throat with vigor and hot, open-mouthed kisses. Her curvy body vibrated under his touch. This was what he needed. Someone who could match his energy and experience.

The girl’s hand pulled at his shirt, running her hands up his chest. Derek shivered under her touch. He brought his mouth up to hers and covered her moans with his mouth.

He opened his eyes and saw brown eyes staring back at him. Not green eyes. Derek reared back and shook his head.

“Everything all right?” Victoria asked, still panting from his kisses.

“Yes, sorry. I’m… sorry. Just a wayward thought.”

Victoria pursed her lips. “Now, now, we can’t let thinking get in the way of our good time.” She reached down to cup him through his trousers. Derek closed his eyes and let out a hiss of air.

“There,” she said as she began to massage the area. “Isn’t this better than thinking?” Her voice dripped in sensuality.

Derek nodded and took her mouth, his hands finding their way down her body and under her skirts.

Just as he was about to make contact, the image of soft blonde curls and bright green eyes infiltrated his thoughts.

With a curse, Derek jumped back.

Victoria took a moment then righted her skirts. “Ah. I see.”

Derek rubbed his face. “What? What do you see?” he spat, angrier at himself than her.

Victoria patted his cheek and moved around him, towards the back door to the tavern. “If you can talk her into it, you should bring her around. I’m sure the three of us would have a good time.”

Derek bristled. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. There is no her .”

Victoria chuckled as she opened the door. “Oh sweetie, I know what I bring to the table. There’s someone else.” With that, she closed the door, leaving Derek alone in the alley.

“Open up, you bloody bastard! I know you’re there!” Derek pounded on the door which was a bad move considering his head was currently resting against the door. He couldn’t tell if his head was pounding because of the alcohol or because of him hitting the door.

A light in the window flickered on seconds before a very sleepy and disgruntled William opened the door.

“Do you know what time it is?” his voice croaked.

Derek pushed past William and stumbled into the parlor right off the main hallway. He flopped face down onto the sofa.

He began shouting into the cushions. William shuffled into the room, closing the door after him.

“Whatever you’re saying, I can’t understand you. At least sit up and talk. I doubt my sofa will be able to listen to your woes and help you.”

Derek sighed and rolled onto his back. He rubbed his eyes, hoping to clear them, but the haze of alcohol still coated his vision.

“I can’t have her.”

“Who?”

“Her,” Derek emphasized as if it would make it clearer who the subject of his despair was. “Victoria said I should bring her around, but she wouldn’t be caught dead in a place like that. It would be beneath her.”

William rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “Who’s Victoria?”

“A girl I met at Charlie’s.”

“You were at Charlie’s?”

Derek covered his head with a pillow. “Yes. Because of her.”

“Victoria?”

Derek threw the pillow. “No! Keep up!”

William rubbed his face and sat in a chair opposite the sofa. “Derek, it is too late to make any sense of what you’re saying. You obviously are properly doxed, so if you would like, I can make up a bed for you sleep in, but other than that, I think you should call it a night. You’re not making any sense.”

“Eleanor,” his voice rasped.

“What about her?” William rested his head on the back of his chair.

“I can’t have her.”

Realization hit William, and he lifted his head. “Oh. Her.”

Derek sighed. “Yes. Her.”

William tilted his head. “Why not? You’re a duke. You wouldn’t be the first duke to court his ward. And you’re not even a relation—not first cousins.” William paused. “Although, even that isn’t unheard of. So, go after her if you want to.”

Derek remained silent. His world was still spinning. After Victoria left him in the alley, he found another pub to drink away the idea of entertaining Eleanor.

William took Derek’s silence as a sign of forfeit. He placed his arms on the arm rests to push himself out of the chair.

“Well, if that’s all, I’m going back to bed.”

“Because I can’t give her what she wants.”

William sighed and plopped back down in the chair. “What does she want?”

“I don’t know!” Derek shot his arms out above him.

William stood, agitated. “Well, if you don’t know what she wants, who are you to say you’re not what she wants?”

“Because she’s proper, refined, the epitome of everything the ton stands for, and I want nothing to do with that world.”

“Sounds like you are the problem. If you don’t want that life, don’t have it.”

Derek sat up and immediately regretted it. “You’re not listening!”

“Because you’re not making any sense!” Derek could tell William was not going to put up with his behavior for much longer. He was surprised his tight-laced friend allowed him to go on this long.

Derek groaned and shook his head, trying to right his thoughts. He rested his elbows on his knees and took a deep breath. “She is under my care. I should be looking for what is best for her, not what I want. She needs a level-headed young man who will give her the conventional societal life she’s probably dreamed of since she was a girl. I am not cut out for that life. It’s hard enough being a part of it as much as I am now. I’m hoping once these girls are married off, I can return to my businesses full time.”

Derek felt small under his friend’s scrutiny. “So, don’t pursue it. You haven’t done anything to make her think you are interested.” Derek’s face must have given himself away.

“Derek,” his friend’s voice chided, “what did you do?’

“I kissed her.”

William groaned. “It is too late for this. I’m going to bed. Feel free to stay here and sleep off the ungodly amount of alcohol you no doubt consumed, but I don’t have the strength to deal with you like this.”

Derek nodded. “I think I’ll take you up on that offer. I don’t want the girls seeing me like this.”

William acknowledged him and went to alert his maid to make up the guest room for Derek.

Derek sat in the darkened parlor. What had become of him? A year ago, he was riding high, one of the richest and well-known men in England, and now, he was drunk on his best friend’s sofa, pining over a girl he was in charge of making sure she was taken care of.

And for some unknown reason, he wanted to be the one who took care of her.