Duchess by Mistake (22 page)

* * *

"Leaving this bed is the most difficult thing I've ever done," he murmured much later. Night had turned his chamber black.

She felt the same. Their lovemaking had never been more passionate, her love for him never more potent.

He went up on one arm. "I dare not allow myself a kiss for I could never be strong enough to stop." His bare legs swung over the side of the bed, and he shimmied into his breeches then bent to scoop up her frock. Their heated encounter had not allowed for a slow disrobing. Her stays had remained, her thin shift greedily pushed up, her drawers shoved down as she'd eagerly parted her thighs to receive him.

"Allow me to help restore your dress," he said, his voice more gentle and less husky than it had been when they'd entered his chamber and slammed into each other's arms with breathless urgency.

Once her dress was on, she lit a candle and turned to regard him. "I should like to watch you dress. I believe I may even be able to tie your cravat. I used to do  James's before Papa got him a valet." She knew she should be embarrassed to admit how she loved to stare at her husband's bare, lithe body in the candlelight. Even that first day—that day he'd stood in his bath, water gleaming on his bronzed torso—she had thought him magnificent.

"I shall not make eye contact with you. I cannot permit myself the pleasure for I really must be off to the House of Lords."

She frowned. "And I had hoped we would have you tonight. I promised to take the girls to Almack's."

"I'm sorry. Perhaps next time. I realize how neglectful I've been of my family."

She started to ask why he had neglected the House of Lords the previous night but decided against it. She wanted neither to introduce an inharmonious subject after such a heavenly encounter, nor to have Philip think her cousin was spying on him. "Indeed  you have. I had to learn from Lydia that you've gone ahead with plans for your own political dinner here on Friday."

"I thought we'd agreed to it."

"We had, but I wasn't aware we'd set a date."

"Forgive me. Had there not been such friction between us, we would have better communicated."

"I vow to be a better wife."

He stopped adjusting his buttons and allowed himself to peer at her. "There is no better wife."

Now she understood what he'd meant about not making eye contact. As their gazes locked, she felt compelled to move to him, to fit herself to him and initiate a fresh wave of passion.

But she couldn't; they couldn't. They both had obligations.

She stayed rooted to the Turkey carpet, flooded with profound feelings of love and stunned by his declaration. "I shall try to be worthy of your praise, my dearest." Then her gaze flicked away and she tried for flippancy. "Now, I believe I'll have a go with your cravat, you handsome devil."

* * *

Before she went to Almack's she had the satisfaction of Philip placing still another lovely jeweled necklace on her. Tonight's was diamonds, and they complimented her soft white dress that was shot with silver threads.

He stayed long enough to see all of his sisters dressed in their elegant finery, and he paid particular attention to Clair's transformation and complimented her with great sincerity.

At the assembly rooms, Elizabeth took pleasure in Clair's success. She danced as much as Margaret or Caro, even though she was not as pretty as her sisters.

They had collected Anna, and Elizabeth was happy to have another matron to sit with her and watch the dancers. "Lydia told me that Captain Smythe called on you today. How can the man have expected a lovely girl like you to be prostrate for his return after all this time? Surely he knew many other men—men of much higher rank—would want you for a wife!"

Elizabeth shrugged. "I have come to believe that all the agony that man put me through was the best thing that ever happened to me."

"How can you say that?"

"My perceived love for the lout kept me from marriage long enough to allow Philip to return from Italy."

A lovely smile lifted Anna's face. "I hadn't thought of it that way. Oh, my dear sister, I cannot tell you how happy I am that you've fallen in love with your own husband. Did I not tell you it would happen?"

"It is just as you said it would be, just as it was for you." Elizabeth's shoulders slumped. "Only Philip doesn't love me like Haverstock loves you."

Anna shook her head. "But, my dearest, it
is
just as it was with Charles and me. I was most passionately in love with him for many months before he came to realize his love of me."

"But I know that there was no other woman in his life, no mistress. We all believed from the start that your marriage was . . . passionate."

Anna's long lashes lowered. "From the start, it was. There was a very great physical compatibility between us." Her lashes lifted, and she peered into Elizabeth's eyes. "For the woman, I think that for the physical to be satisfying, her heart must also be engaged. That is not necessary for the man."

"It would destroy me to learn that Philip was intimate with another woman."

Anna's huge chocolate eyes regarded her intently. "Keep him satisfied every night, and he will be incapable of looking elsewhere."

The heat rose in Elizabeth's cheeks and she quickly looked away. She was disappointed to see that Clair had no partner for the current set. The poor young woman stood alone at the side of the chamber, peering at her sisters.

Elizabeth felt a tap at her shoulder and whirled around. Towering above her was Captain Smythe, sinfully handsome in his regimentals. "Would your grace do me the goodness of standing up with me for the next set?"

"Her grace chooses not to dance," Elizabeth snapped.

He rounded the row of chairs where she sat and came to face her. "Very well. I shall sit with my dear old friend." His gaze then connected with that of the marchioness, and he bowed. "Good evening, Lady Haverstock."

After they exchanged greetings, he plopped down beside Elizabeth. "Where is your duke tonight?"

"He's fulfilling his responsibilities at the House of Lords."

"Which is much less threatening than fulfilling one's duties on a battlefield."

She refused to look at him. "I am sure my husband would agree most heartily with that statement." Every time she referred to Philip as her husband, her chest seemed to expand with pride.

"If you were my wife, I would not neglect you so."

She gave him a cold stare. "I. Am. Not. Neglected. My husband and I make time to spend with one another every day." Her insides fluttered at the memory of the intimacies that very afternoon.

"What does a chap have to do to dance with the lovely Duchess of Aldridge?"

Her gaze darted to Clair. "If you go and ask my sister, Lady Clair Ponsby, to stand up with you, I will favor you with a dance later."

His gaze arrowed to the spot where Clair stood. "The freckled lady in yellow?"

"Yes."

He leapt to his feet and moved toward Clair. His striking presence drew attention away from the dancers and sent Pretty Young Things tittering to one another behind their fans.

Once he and Clair were on the dance floor, Anna turned to her. "The Captain is certainly possessed of arrogance."

"I can't think why he persists in wanting to see me."

"Perhaps he's conceited enough to think you'd throw over a duke to elope with him."

Elizabeth gave a bitter laugh. "I have my doubts that he's ever truly wished to be wed."

"Then perhaps he's one of those men who likes to seduce other men's wives, especially ones who may be neglected by their husbands—not that you are."

"Most people think I am, but they are unaware of the time Philip and I carve out of each day to be alone with each other."

"That is exactly what Charles and I have always done."

"You must be my inspiration for a happy marriage. How I pray that I am doing the right thing!"

"Love conquers all. I know that sounds trite, but love trumps every force that opposes the union of two beings."

She and Anna could not help but to watch Captain Smythe as he and Clair elegantly strode hand-in-hand down the longway, every eye in the lofty chamber drawn to the stunning officer.

He waited until the night's final dance—a waltz—to claim Elizabeth. How she had loved feeling the touch of his hand at her waist before. Before Philip. Tonight, she stiffened and did her best to preserve a large gap between them. Tonight, she lamented that she'd agreed to stand up with him. Most of all, tonight she longed to be waltzing across this dance floor with her husband.

"I feel I owe you an explanation," he began after he waltzed them into a remote corner of the room that was bereft of onlookers.

"You owe me nothing."

"But you see, when last I saw you, I was but two and twenty and in no position to offer for a wife—especially one who is the daughter of a marquess."

"You don't need to tell me any of this."

"I need you to understand. I hurried back to London the moment my circumstances changed."

She lifted a brow and regarded him. "Pray, Captain, how have your circumstances changed?"

"My father's brother died, and having no children, he left me extremely well fixed."

"Then I'm very happy for you. You have come to the right place to seek a wife. I'm sure you could take your choice."

His grip on her hand tightened. "There's only one woman in this chamber I would choose to spend the rest of my life with."

How ill-mannered it would be for her to acknowledge that he referred to her. "I do hope you refer to one of Aldridge's sisters. He has three very sweet sisters who are still unmarried."

"Confound it! I'm lovesick over you."

How different their lives would have been had he spoken those words last year! Thank God he had not. "I am sorry for it, but I know from experience that broken hearts can mend."

He understood. His step slowed and he spoke in an anguished voice. "Oh, God, what I've lost."

Upon entering the house on Trent Square, the sisters scattered like ants, Margaret to the music room for her twice-weekly lessons upon the pianoforte, Clair to the mathematics' school room, and Elizabeth was on her way to the kitchen to ensure there were adequate stores of food. Mrs. Hudson, nearly weighted down with a large basket of laundry, was descending the stairs, her little daughter a step behind.

"Stop right there, Mrs. Hudson," barked Abraham, who was just behind Elizabeth. He raced up the stairs to relieve the pretty young widow of the heavy basket. "Yer far too little to be carrying such a big load. Did you not know I was comin' today? Yer to save things like this for me."

"You're too kind," she said shyly as he took the basket.

"It's you who are the kind one. Coming here today,  I read the words on several shop windows, all owing to yer kindliness in instructing me."

Elizabeth was touched over the encounter but had her own duties to attend.

In the basement kitchen, she found Mrs. Leander, who smiled up at her. "As glad as I am to see you, your grace, I'd rather it be Abraham."

"He's carrying down the laundry as we speak."

"Thank goodness. I declare, I don't mean to seem ungrateful, but we could use that dear man around here every day, not just the two days a week your visits have been pared down to."

"Perhaps I should speak to my husband to see if Abraham can be spared more." Why was it she was still so unaccustomed to thinking of herself as the mistress of Aldridge House? Shouldn't the duchess have a say in such decisions? She had yet to feel as if she were a duchess.

"I would think a man possessed of Abraham's strength and his congeniality would not easily be given up." Mrs. Leander shrugged. "We wouldn't have to have a man as fine as him, though he's uncommonly good with the children. So many of our little lads and lassies have never known their own dear fathers."

"It does seem as if Abraham  thinks he has to fill their shoes." Elizabeth heard Mrs. Hudson and the footman just beyond the door and held her index finger to her mouth.

Then Elizabeth cleared her throat. "Tell me, Mrs. Leander, now that things are so settled do you not agree that my sisters and I are only needed twice a week?"

Abraham and Mrs. Hudson passed the open door and strode to the washroom at the end of the corridor.

"Oh, I do agree. Now that your grace has so efficiently organized the house and everyone's duties." She lowered her voice, "But it would be nice to have a man around."

Elizabeth pondered the idea of having a man always at Number 7. The idea had great merit, but she could not yet commit to it. For now, she would be flippant. "The difficulty with having Abraham living here is that you ladies would all fall in love with him!"

A benevolent smile crossed the elder woman's face. "If I were a dozen years younger, yes, I'd be swoonin' over that big, strapping lad." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "I'm not sayin' Mrs. Hudson has actually fallen for the fellow, but it wouldn't surprise me if he ain't responsible for curing her melancholy. She was hurtin' very badly when I met her, and you must see the bright change that's come over her."

"I have noticed her diminishing grief and am grateful for the cause, whatever or whoever might be responsible for it."

* * *

When the group returned to Aldridge House from Trent Square, Elizabeth wondered whose large open barouche was parked in front. She had expected to see Richie's smaller curricle. Her question was answered the moment she stepped into the house and saw Captain Smythe—in his full uniform—standing next to Richie.

How could she have forgotten that it was Richie who had first introduced him to Elizabeth? The two had been at Harrow together. Even before they spoke, she recalled the Captain telling her he had come into a great deal of money. Which explained the luxurious barouche. Richie certainly did not own anything so fine.

Then she stiffened as she recalled his final words to her at Almack's. She glared at the pair of them. "It appears as if someone is being presumptuous."

Captain Smythe stepped forward. "That would be me, your grace. It's been three long years since I've been able to ride through Hyde Park. Surely you would not deny a needy soldier."