Page 38 of Trapped with her Cruel Duke (Duke Wars #1)

Six Months Later

All eyes were on the Duke and Duchess of Egerton as they entered the final masquerade ball of the Season at Orions.

Louise was reminded all over again of the first time she had set foot in this room six months ago and how different it felt to do it today.

For one thing, she was no longer the Ice Queen.

When they had originally discussed their costumes, her first thought was to don her previous ensemble, but Christian rejected the idea immediately.

“You are no longer the Ice Queen, my love. You are my vixen of fire,” he had said.

His comment made her laugh, but not as hard as he had when she walked into the drawing room that evening to show off the costume she had picked out.

She wore a dark ochre gown with white embroidery on the cuffs. Her black satin gloves reached her elbows, and she wore a fox mask on her face.

Christian had lifted her into his arms, grinning at her happily.

“You are a vixen, indeed,” he had said, kissing her briefly before they headed to the carriage.

Louise glanced across at her husband, who was every bit the Duke tonight, surveying everything with a critical eye and ensuring that the ball was just as he had intended it to be.

He was wearing a far simpler ensemble. He had been adamant that all eyes should be on his wife, and he had opted for an eagle.

His attire was immaculate, as ever, the strict black lines of his clothing accentuating his muscular figure. Louise’s eyes traveled down his waistcoat, which was made of elongated diamonds in blacks and grays to represent the bird’s feathers. She admired the hard planes of his stomach, lamenting the fact that she would have to wait until they were home before she peeled his clothes off him.

“Stop that,” Christian muttered.

“Hmm?” she murmured innocently.

“I know that look, even behind your mask, and I do not appreciate it.”

“I do not understand,” she said playfully. “I am looking at my husband.”

“Devilish woman. Would you please go and distract yourself with your friends? Sybella looks close to bursting with excitement.”

“Where are you going?” Louise asked in amusement.

“I am going to be a good host and stay away from you for a few moments to gather myself. You have almost driven me to distraction with one carriage ride tonight.” He lowered his voice. “I cannot sport an erection in the middle of a ballroom.”

Louise burst into laughter before she made her way to her friends, her heart full as she saw Sybella and Charlotte standing at the edge of the dance floor.

It was wonderful to be here again. When they had arrived, she was curious as to how she might feel. The last time she had stood in this room, it had been a dark day. Those memories stirred unpleasant emotions as she headed toward her friends.

But all of that is in the past now. Christian and I could have never imagined how happy we would be.

Sybella ran toward her as the other two ladies curtsied to one another. She had chosen a rabbit for her costume, with a sparkling white dress and a mask that brought out the color of her eyes. Charlotte was all in red as a cardinal and looked very fine, indeed.

“I am so pleased to see you,” Sybella said. “Your book is the talk of the town.”

Louise chuckled. “Sybella, you are the most loyal friend in the world, but I do not believe that for a moment. If I were Jane Austen, it might have been the talk of the town, but an encyclopedia about plants is hardly going to catch the gossips’ attention.”

Sybella shook her head. “But you are quite wrong. The illustrations have caught many ladies’ attention. I have spoken to two people who purchased it. I only wish you had published it under your real name.”

“Jack Pendleton shall always be my secret muse,” Louise said softly, and Charlotte laughed.

Louise had considered publishing under the name Jack Frost as an homage to her favorite mischievous cat, but Marcus and Christian had told her it would be quite ridiculous. She had, therefore, chosen Pendleton, her mother’s maiden name, and she was quite content to be anonymous in her pursuit of botany.

Lord Fiorelli had sent her a number of seedlings, which she had planted in the greenhouse at the country estate, and now she had a host of sunflowers to look at whenever she visited.

Lord Fiorelli had become a great friend to her and had sent her many letters since their last meeting. Watching Christian’s jaw tighten every time she opened one was always a delight. No matter how much he understood their shared passion, he would always claim her in some way shortly after she received a letter from the man. She could not complain about that.

“How is your mother?” Sybella asked quietly.

“She is well, thank you. They are very happy in Buckinghamshire. Mama is wonderfully content, and Marcus has promised that she will want for nothing.”

The past few months had been a tumultuous time for her mother. The scandal that followed her out of London had been difficult to bear for several weeks, and Christian had quite lost his temper when several members of his club severed ties with him.

The gossips were fascinated by the Dawson Debts—as they had been dubbed—but after the initial storm, most comments pertained to her father. Anything related to the Iron Harridan was long forgotten in the face of everything the Earl had done.

The debts seemed never-ending, and in very little time, the law had caught up with her father. Louise still hated the idea of him in debtors’ prison, but she knew better than anyone that he only had himself to blame.

Perhaps it will not be forever. Perhaps he will learn the error of his ways and come out a changed man.

She shook her head, unsure if her father had the capacity for change, and glanced across the room at her husband. He was standing beside the Duke of Stonewell, both murmuring to one another as they watched the dancing couples.

Their eyes met from across the room, and even behind the dark mask, Louise could feel the heat of his gaze burning through her.

Hmm, perhaps teasing him during the carriage ride was not my cleverest idea.

“How has it been at the club?” Charlotte asked.

“Far better than when we first got married,” Louise replied with a sigh. “Christian has weathered my mother’s scandal, as have I, and the members seem to have finally accepted us. It is a second home, I must confess. However, I do not come here as often as I did before. I have too much to do at home.”

“How is the rose garden coming along?” Sybella enquired eagerly.

“Beautifully. I believe Neilson is a magician. They are flourishing even at this time of year, and we have too many vegetables. The potatoes are spilling over the beds!”

Sybella laughed. “I have never heard of a duchess so excited by potatoes before.”

“Well,” Louise said triumphantly, “I intend to be the first.”

Both women laughed, but as Louise was about to say something more on the subject, the room spun around her.

Disoriented, she glanced up at the ceiling, which seemed to be swirling, and her legs gave out as a wave of dizziness assailed her.

She felt herself falling down. However, a strong arm suddenly looped around her waist, and she gasped as she saw Christian above her, looking down at her with concern.

“Louise?” he said sharply. “What is it?”

Louise put a hand on her forehead as a crowd formed around them. Sybella and Charlotte fluttered at the edges of her vision, worry written all over their faces.

Christian gently pulled her to her feet, his hands firm on her waist.

“Did someone say something? Who hurt you? I shall call them out.” His eyes darted accusingly to everyone around them, making several guests disperse.

“I am afraid this is your doing, no one else’s,” she muttered, smoothing down her skirts as she regained her balance.

Christian furrowed his brow as he looked down at her. His mask hid much of his face, but she could still glimpse the fear in his eyes.

“What have I done?”

“Your son or daughter is causing their mother to faint, it seems. You have no one to blame but yourself.”

Silence fell over them as Christian stared at her in utter disbelief. Then, his hands moved to his mask, and he pulled it off. A wide grin spread across his face as he lowered himself to her eye level.

“You are jesting,” he whispered, tears welling up in his eyes.

“Have you ever known me to jest about such things?” she asked, a happy smile on her face.

She squealed in surprise as he lifted her into the air and spun her around.

Scandalized gasps rippled through the crowd, and some guests even started whispering as he pulled her down and planted a kiss on her lips.

He carefully lowered her to her feet, his grin never fading as he sighed in contentment.

“I love you, my Duchess,” he said fervently. “I cannot imagine my life without you.”

“Nor I you, my Duke. I cannot wait to meet our little Ice Prince or Princess.”

His happy laugh echoed through the room as he pulled her to him, squeezing her to him tightly as the masks and colors continued to swirl around them.

The End.