Falling Into Bed with a Duke (Hellions of Havisham) (20 page)

“Only that I love you,” she said.

His grin grew. “You should always say that only to the left ear.”

“I’m sorry that I can’t make him like me,” she lied. She couldn’t care less if Edward liked her. Every time he went on his travels, she prayed fervently that he wouldn’t return. Life was so much easier when he wasn’t about.

Albert tucked loose strands of her hair behind her ear. “Edward can be trying at times. I think where you’re concerned, though, he’s jealous. I have a beautiful wife. And he is alone.”

She gave him a teasing look. “Based upon all the women he talks about, I’m not certain you can accurately claim that he is alone.”

“But none of them are good for him. Not the way you were good for me. Although he did say that if we took a trip together, he would grow up when we got back.”

Her chest tightened. “Are you going?”

Slowly, he shook his head. “I won’t leave you.”

Swallowing her fears, the fears she’d always had regarding her good fortune in having such a wonderful man’s love, the fears that their happiness could be ripped away, she said, “You can go if you want.”

Cradling her jaw, he held her gaze. “I’m not going to leave you while you’re with child.”

“I’ll be perfectly fine.”

“If you were to lose the babe while I was away, do you think I’d ever forgive myself?”

“It wouldn’t be your fault. Neither of us did anything that caused me to lose the other three. I hope this one is a boy. I want to give you your heir.”

“I hope only that it’s healthy and that you survive bringing it into the world.” He drew her close, wrapped his arms tightly around her. “I don’t want to lose you, Julia.”

“You won’t,” she promised, even knowing that some promises weren’t meant to be kept.

S
ITTING in his library, Ashe swirled the amber liquid in his glass, mesmerized by a vortex that seemed to resemble his life. He needed to marry a woman with a dowry. Minerva Dodger had the largest available. Why would he settle for less?

Plus he liked her, especially in the bedchamber. What they had shared revealed a passion that far surpassed anything he’d ever experienced.

He hadn’t liked one bit walking into the Dodger parlor to find Burleigh sharing the sofa with Minerva. As a rule, he wasn’t the jealous sort, but it appeared, where she was concerned, none of his rules were holding.

Tomorrow, preparations for moving into Ashebury Place would begin in earnest. Tonight he was in need of a distraction. It existed at a gaming hell, even if he didn’t wager. And Minerva would be within the walls of the establishment. Getting up, he returned his glass to the sideboard, turned for the door.

“Ah, there you are,” Edward said as he strolled in. “Have some jolly good news. I’ve spoken with Grey. Whatever items you want to leave here, I shall have the means to purchase.”

Ashe released a grateful sigh. “That certainly makes things easier all the way around. I’ll have my man of business tally up the costs.”

“I thought you’d be pleased.” He walked to the table, poured himself a scotch. “What shall we do tonight to celebrate?”

“I was about to head to the Dragons. You’re welcome to join me.”

Edward studied his scotch as though he were seeking an answer within its depths. “No, I’m more in the mood for something that involves women.”

“Women are at the Dragons.”

“Respectable women.” He shook his head. “Not the sort I fancy.”

Ashe felt somewhat of a dilemma, not wanting to abandon Edward after his generosity but very much wanting to see Minerva. His desire to be with her won out. “As I’m not in the mood for the sort of women you fancy, I’ll leave you to them.”

Edward grinned. “You’re already starting to sound married. By the by, when you do move out, leave the spirits.”

“If you want any staff to stay behind, just let me know how many.”

“Leave as many as you like. I’ll keep them on.” As though his words were of no consequence, he tossed back his scotch.

But Ashe knew them for what they were: an attempt to ease his burden. “Edward, I appreciate everything you’ve done here.”

His lips twisted up into a mockery of smile. “We orphans have to stick together.”

“As much as I wish you hadn’t lost your parents, I was always rather glad I didn’t have to go to Havisham alone.”

Edward reached for a decanter. “You’re getting sentimental. It doesn’t suit you. Go lose some money. You’ll feel better.”

Grateful that Edward was putting an end to what might have become an uncomfortable conversation, Ashe chuckled with relief. “And you . . . go find yourself a good woman for the night.”

“Don’t want a good one.” He grinned devilishly and wiggled his eyebrows. “I want one who is very, very wicked.”

But Ashe knew that sometimes they were one and the same. Minerva Dodger had taught him that.

Chapter 15

F
EELING restless and on edge, Minerva stood within the shadowed balcony of the Twin Dragons and looked out over the gaming floor. Seeing Ashe this afternoon had left her longing to be in his arms. She’d considered sending him a missive inviting him to join her here. But she rather hoped that he might make an appearance without her invitation, which was the reason she was standing here rather than being where she was supposed to be. Others were waiting on her. She needed to go.

Taking her gaze on a final sweep of the floor, she felt her heart kick against her ribs at the sight of Ashe wandering slowly about the card tables before heading for the roulette wheel. Had he been looking for her? Why else would he bother to take a detour through that area rather than heading straight for the wheel?

She very nearly shouted at him, to gain his attention, to invite him to join her. But propriety required a bit more decorum. She headed for the gaming floor.

He was standing near the roulette table, watching, not yet playing. She liked that he wasn’t the sort to dive right into gambling, that he took his time. Some of the members were rather rabid about it. The gentlemen who were had been included on her list:
Men I’ll Never Marry.

She knew she could never love someone for whom gambling was an obsession rather than a pleasant pastime.

“Your Grace.”

He turned, his brilliant blue eyes warming. “Miss Dodger. I was hoping to find you here, but I didn’t see you at the tables.”

When had any man sounded so sincere when speaking with her? “I’m playing in a private room. Would you care to join us? I know cards isn’t a game you prefer, but you don’t have to play. You could watch.”

He gave her a wicked smile. “I’ve never seen the appeal of being a voyeur. However, watching you could prove me wrong.”

“I don’t think I’d be that interesting. And you’re right. It’s incredibly boring to watch someone play. I don’t even know why I made the suggestion.”

“If the choice is standing here watching a wheel spin and my coins dwindle or watching you, I choose the later. Besides, I’m assuming this is the exclusive game in the inner sanctum that is whispered about, but few are allowed to experience.”

She smiled brightly. “It is indeed.”

“Then I would be more than delighted to accept your invitation.”

“Who knows? You might even decide to play.”

T
HE private rooms were legendary. He wasn’t surprised Minerva possessed a key that granted her access to them, but it did allow him to understand why she might have instructed his driver to bring her here. With her mask hidden in the folds of her skirts, she could whisk through the gaming area and find solace in here. Even if he’d followed his driver that first night, she’d have been able to disappear before Ashe would have been able to catch a good glimpse of her unmasked.

Clever girl.

She led him up a set of stairs and down a darkened hallway. They passed a shadowed alcove. Grabbing her arm, he drew her back into it and latched his mouth onto hers. She didn’t protest or object. Merely wound her arms around his neck, pressed her breasts against his chest, drove him mad with her eagerness.

Why were they playing this damned game when this existed between them? Why weren’t they at his residence, in his bed? And why was it that he couldn’t get enough of her? Was it because she was the one who established the rules, the one in charge, the one who dictated the terms of their arrangement?

What arrangement? He was trying to keep his head, court her the way her blasted book said he was supposed to court her, but all he could think of was cupping her bare breast, kneading it, suckling on it. All he wanted was the freedom to glide his mouth along her bare legs, kiss her behind her knees, press his lips to her birthmark, tease and taunt her with his fingers and tongue. He wanted to be inside her, riding a wave of pleasure that was more intense than anything he’d ever experienced.

He dragged his mouth along her throat. “Come to my residence.”

“I’m not half-tempted,” she said on a sigh.

“Be all tempted.”

With a soft laugh, she cradled his face. “Doesn’t it frighten you? This mad attraction between us?”

“No. We should glory in it. It’s not always like this.”

“Is it not?”

He cupped her cheeks. “For me, it’s never been this intense with any other woman. Marry me, Minerva. We’ll have this every night.”

He heard her small gasp of surprise. “I don’t know that it’s enough to carry us through a lifetime.”

“But what a ride we’ll have until it burns out.”

“So you think it’ll burn out.”

He cursed the disappointment he heard in her voice. Part of him thought it had to. Part of him couldn’t imagine it. She wanted guarantees. He wanted to bed her again. But he wasn’t going to lie to her.

“Do you love me?” she asked.

He bit back a frustrated sigh. “I care for you very much. Love . . . love is what made the Marquess of Marsden go mad. I know you yearn for it, but it is not all warmth and joy and happily-ever-after. This attraction we feel can carry us far.”

“I just don’t know if it’ll carry us far enough.”

He should give up on her. She wasn’t the only woman with a dowry. But dammit all, he wanted her. Her stubbornness, her willingness to go after what she wanted, even her belief in love. He’d never known a woman as complex, complicated, or intriguing. A lifetime with her would ensure he was never bored.

He took her mouth once more, rough and hungrily, just one more taste, one more nibble, one more sweep of his tongue. When he broke off the kiss, she staggered. He steadied her, grinned. “We could have that every night. Consider it.”

Taking her hand, he led her out into the hallway.

“You don’t play fair,” she said softly.

“This isn’t a game.”

“Is it not?”

It was the future of his estates, his legacy. He wished he could give her the love she wanted, she deserved. But he could ensure she didn’t regret marrying him. “I want you,” he said simply. “That’s not going to change.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Because I know my own mind.”

“I want you to know your own heart.”

He squeezed her hand, realizing only at that moment that he’d never released it. They weren’t going to resolve this tonight, and he wanted to enjoy the time he was with her. Wanted her to enjoy the time she was with him. “I want to watch you play cards.”

At the end of the hallway, she stopped at a door, knocked, and with a single word spoken, gained entry. He followed her into a room that he’d heard whispers about for as long as he’d been a member. The dark location offered sitting areas and tables lined with decanters.

Minerva escorted him through parted draperies into a chamber that was better lit. A large, round, baize-covered table was the focus, several people already sitting around it. Standing, the gentlemen narrowed their eyes suspiciously. The ladies remained as they were and gave him a more speculative look.

“I believe everyone knows everyone,” Minerva said.

“Ashebury,” Lovingdon said, and Ashe should have realized her half brother would be here. Lovingdon’s wife was sitting beside him. The Duke and Duchess of Avendale were next. Lords Langdon and Rexton. Drake Darling.

“Lovingdon.” Ashe bowed his head slightly. “Ladies. Gentlemen.”

“We’ll sit over here,” Minerva said, taking his hand and guiding him to an empty chair at the far end. By the time they reached it, a footman had added another.

Ashe assisted Minerva in taking her seat, then waited as the gentlemen finished sizing him up. It was several interminable minutes before Lovingdon gave a brisk nod, and the gents settled into their places.

“Ashe isn’t going to play,” Minerva said. “He’s merely going to watch.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Avendale asked.

“The fun is in watching you lose your money while I keep mine,” Ashe said.

“Roulette is his game,” Minerva explained, and he wondered at her need to defend him. After removing her gloves, she set them in her lap, placed her hands on top of the table.

He studied those slender pale fingers and recalled the feel of them wrapped around him. As discreetly as possible, beneath the table, he set his hand on her thigh, squeezing gently through layers of petticoats. Her eyes meeting his, he saw the pleasure in hers, watched as a small smile spread slowly—

“You may be only observing, Ashebury,” Lovingdon said, “but I must insist your hands remain on top of the table.”

Ashebury’s jaw tightened. He was growing weary of the man’s interfering with his seduction of Minerva—even if she was Lovingdon’s sister, and he had an obligation to protect her.

“He’s concerned with you cheating,” the Duchess of Lovingdon said. “Or helping Minerva cheat.”

He didn’t remove his hand from her thigh. Instead, he squeezed again, before narrowing his eyes at her brother. “I’m finding it most difficult not to take offense. I do not cheat.”

“Unfortunately, we do,” Minerva said softly, her cheeks turning the most becoming shade of pink. “So hands must stay visible.” Leaning over, she whispered near his ear, “Regretfully.”

Regretfully indeed. Holding Lovingdon’s gaze, Ashe set his left hand on the table, fingers splayed, placed his right forearm along the back of Minerva’s chair and closed his fingers around her shoulder. She looked at him, looked at her brother. The tension mounted.

“I don’t need help cheating,” she finally announced. “I’m rather insulted that you would think I would. As long as hands are visible, I don’t think they have to be on the table.”

“As long as they’re visible,” Lovingdon affirmed, but he didn’t sound very happy about it. Ashe wondered how happy the man was going to be when they became relations.

“Shall we begin?” Darling asked.

Murmurs of agreement filled the silence. Minerva rubbed her hands together, popped her knuckles. Ashe didn’t know why he found the unladylike movement endearing and erotic.

Everyone tossed a chip into the center of the table. Darling began dealing the cards. Ashe was astounded by the stacks of chips resting in front of each person. He didn’t resent them their wealth. He only wished he could emulate it. Although, if his plans came to fruition, he would very soon have an immense fortune himself.

As discreetly as possible, Minerva showed him her cards, gave him a gamine smile. Was she flirting with him or signaling that she was pleased with her hand? He tried to make sense of the numbers. In the best of times, it was difficult, but when she was quickly arranging the cards in some sort of order, it was impossible. Still, he smiled back, pretended to know what the bloody hell those dancing figures signified.

She discarded two of them. He hadn’t a clue as to what she found offensive about them. He wondered if she would always be content with his watching, if a time would come when she would encourage, might even insist, that he play. Might think he was being rude or snobbish if he didn’t.

When the round ended, she was the one who reached across the table and brought in all the chips. “Ah, five hundred pounds. Lucky me. You can help me stack them,” she told him.

He could manage that. The various denominations were marked in different colors. He didn’t have to add anything up. “How did you know how much?”

“I kept a tally as the chips went in.”

In her head? She didn’t even need to put it on paper? “Remarkable.”

She scoffed. “Not really. I’m sure everyone at the table is doing the same.”

Bloody hell. She was sharp. He would have to ensure that she never found out about his inability to conquer numbers. Otherwise, she might think him a complete ninny, and why would she ever want a man who couldn’t keep up with her?

Darling gathered up the cards, began shuffling them with ease. “Say, Ashebury, I had a rather interesting conversation with Lord Sheridan recently. He demanded that I revoke your membership.”

Every movement at the table stilled. Glasses lifted partway, people leaning in to say something to their spouse, wrists flicking to toss another chip toward the center of the table. Except for the shuffling of cards. Their rush of sound punctuated the otherwise hushed silence as all eyes came to bear on Ashe. Minerva’s delicate brow furrowed, her dark eyes reflected concern.

“He said there was an altercation between you two,” Darling continued, his hands never stopping the incessant shuffling.

“I’d hardly call it an altercation,” Ashe said.

“He claims you tossed scotch onto him.”

Sheridan’s pride obviously prevented him from admitting that he’d also become intimately acquainted with Ashe’s fist. “An accident, I assure you. I stumbled, and my scotch flew. I couldn’t stop it from landing on him.”

With a nod, Darling began dealing. “That was Thomas’s account as well, which was the reason I didn’t bother you with it earlier, but as you were here, I thought I would ask.”

“Just clumsiness on my part.”

“I never much liked Sheridan,” Rexton said.

“I hope Lady Hyacinth does. I hear they are to marry,” the Duchess of Lovingdon said.

“That came about rather quickly. How did he manage it?” Minerva asked.

“A compromising encounter in a garden, from what I understand. Better her than you, I say.”

“Did he call on you?” Lovingdon asked.

Minerva waved a hand, before picking up her cards and beginning to arrange them. “Several days ago. I feel for the girl. He wants only her dowry.”

Even after the girl had insulted her, she could still work up sympathy for her. Ashe wasn’t certain he’d be able to do the same, and yet he wasn’t surprised by her feelings. She possessed a decency that he’d found lacking in many of the ladies with whom he’d flirted over the years.

“She’ll be a countess,” Langdon said.

“She’ll be unhappy.”

“I doubt it. From what I understand, she arranged to be discovered in the garden.”

“Still, she has my sympathy, and I saw you swap out your card, Langdon.”

“You weren’t even looking at me.”

She merely gave him a triumphant smile that caused Ashe’s gut to tighten. He wanted that smile. He wanted all her smiles.