ROMANCE: MC BIKER ROMANCE: Bad Boy Biker's Baby (Bad Boy Alpha Male Motorcycle Club Romance) (Contemporary MC Biker Pregnancy Romance) (55 page)

Dominick went on the offensive, and he hammered the Duke back. Over and over his foil clashed against Andrew’s. And just when it looked as though Dominick might get a blow past the other man's guard, Andrew dashed out with a wild thrust, which pierced Dominick’s stomach and made him lose grip of his weapon.

“No!” Catherine yelled, and she almost stepped forward, but her father put his hand on her shoulder, keeping her back.

Dominick’s shirt was stained crimson as his blood poured freely. He fell to his knees, and Duke Rotham stepped forward, holding his blade at the boy’s neck.

“Do you yield?” he asked.

Dominick looked up to him. “You’ve taken everything from me, what is my life?”

“If she knew the man you were, if she knew the truth, she wouldn’t want to be with you,” Rotham said.

“What does he mean?” Catherine called, stepping away from her father. Dominick looked to her, sitting on his knees with his hand on his wound. Blood poured from between his fingers.

“I could never tell you,” he said.

“Tell me, or I could never love you,” Catherine countered.

“If I tell you, you will never love me.”

“Let me be the judge.”

Rotherham stepped back, allowing the young man and the young woman a bit of privacy though the crowd pushed in to hear.

“Ginger Street. We were upon it, and some man, a blacksmith I think it was, he came at us. We never learned why, but some people hate the army. Some slight perhaps, or maybe his son was killed in battle. He came, and we killed him. Not me, but one of us. We are brothers. After that, the street, just this one little street in one little town, it erupted, and the people who lived there, they attacked us. I had to kill some of them.”

“Why would that make me hate you?’ Catherine asked. None of it made sense. It was certainly a horrible story, but not one who made her think any less of Dominick.

“My company stayed there. We were ordered to. That night, on that street, after the skirmish, we found these three girls. The blacksmith’s daughters. They were young, thirteen at the least, and sixteen at the oldest. We hated them upon finding them. Three of our own company had died in the fight. We… we took it out on them. We had our ways with them, one girl with two or more men on them sometimes… and then after, we killed them.”

Catherine put her hand over her mouth. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. It was all too horrible, so much worse than she could ever imagine.

“I’ll leave,” Dominick said, and he stood and turned. He left drops of crimson on the stone behind him as he walked. Catherine watched him go.

“You can go after him; the marriage can be off,” Duke Rotham said, he was suddenly beside her. “I want you to marry me because you love me, not because your father loves my title.”

Catherine looked up at the man, and then back to Dominick. When she turned away from Dom, she knew it was the last time she would ever see him. That thought saddened her greatly, but she knew it was the right decision. She wasn’t sure if she would ever come to regret it, but somehow, she didn’t think she would. He had lied to her, had kept such dark things from her. If he could do that, for so long, maybe it was true that she never even really knew him.

And the Duke. He was an honorable man. He had been patient and had weathered her childishness with maturity. Images from that day on the long sofa rushed into her mind, and she felt his lips upon hers, his gentle movements inside her.

She put her arm around Andrew’s and led him to his manor.

“We have a wedding to plan,” she said.

*****

THE END

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Here is a FREE bonus 10.000 word romance story by Sarah Thorn, “Dancing with a Duke”

Dancing With A Duke – A Regency Romance

The Dukedom of Tregony was the one of the largest in England. The home of the Duke of Tregony, it was a vast estate, including ten villages, eighteen farms and hundreds of acres of grouse moor. Sleningford Castle, the Duke's home, was proportionately large. The original castle had been built in 1310 by one of the Duke's forefathers. Over the years it had been expanded and now it was a vast home, in which it was easy to lose oneself. There were two main entrances to the castle grounds.  Each was guarded by a splendid lodge house and an iron gate. The driveway to the castle was simply magnificent. Only at the very last minute did the castle come into view. It was a breath taking moment of discovery for any visitor, as they rounded the final corner.

Isabella's day of work had finished, and she had retired to her room. The Governess to the Duke's three children, she had been afforded a room of higher status than any of the servants. Unusually, it was located at the front of the castle, and Isabella was able to enjoy the views of the magnificent garden, and the shooting moor in the distance.

She glanced into the full length chevalier mirror. Isabella never liked what she saw. Today was an especially bad day. Her confidence had been dented when she'd over heard the butler and the cook talking about her. She knew she wore larger dresses than was the norm, but she hated her figure and saw no reason to highlight it. Today she'd worn a green Empire dress, so typical of the period. It had a high waist line, puff sleeves and a square décolleté. Isabella had closed the décolleté with a finely decorated chemisette. She hated modern fashion. Soft muslin dresses clung to the body, leaving little to the imagination. She always wore two dress sizes bigger than she needed. She was grateful for undergarments, like pantaloons, which stopped her dresses clinging to the body she found so loathsome.

She took off her clothes and closed her eyes to prevent herself from looking at her naked flesh in the mirror. As a blind person, she searched for her nightdress, and gratefully pulled it over her head.

Isabella's routine was always the same. When she handed the children over to their nanny at five pm, she would retire to her room, read and got to sleep. This evening was no exception. She had read five chapters of 'Sense and Sensibility,' a new novel by Jane Austen. She'd marveled at the brave Mr. Willoughby. In fact, Isabella had already fallen in love with him. A hopeless romantic, she lived her life lost in the painful thought that she would never be the subject of any man's attention. She took comfort, therefore, in fictional characters.

Isabella's last activity of the day was prayer, and this day was no exception. She knelt at the side of her bed, closed her eyes and placed her hands together.

''Dear Lord, please forgive my shortcomings and anything I have done today which may have displeased you. Please also look over Edith, James and Mark. They have all done their best today and deserve your thoughts. If I may Lord, I would like to make mention of the Duke. He is a special man who has been dealt a savage blow in his life. Please release him from his suffering, and grant him a life free of grief and pain. Lord, please look upon my dear father with mercy. He has been foolish, but I know he is a good man in his heart. I ask you to protect him in that vile place. Finally Lord, I ask you to bless my late mother. Thank you for relieving her of her pain in the gentle manner you did. Amen.''

****

''Isabella, please put down your books for once and come and sit with me. I have something to tell you.'' Harriet said.

''Harriet, I would like nothing more than to sit with you and pass the time, but the children will be back from their lunch soon. I must prepare their lessons. It is no easy task. Edith is three years older than the two twins and she is, of course, far more advanced. She is especially good at French. I am sure one day she will be the wife of a French Noblesse d'epee.''

''Most of them were beheaded twenty years ago. Really Isabella you are quite out of date. I only need ten minutes of your time. Please come and sit here.''

Isabella looked at Harriet and was quite jealous. Harriet looked so noble. She was tall and her features were aristocratically fine. She had beautiful oval eyes, like Cleopatra. Isabella wondered how on earth Harriet kept her blonde hair in such superbly formed ringlets. They never seemed to be out of place or poorly formed. The thing Isabella was most jealous of, however, was Harriet's figure. She had an ample bust with which she could woo any man, and she was able to wear dresses than clung to her stomach and bottom without caring what anyone thought. Harriet was the Duke's sister, and no servant would ever dare to speak ill of her.

Isabella, on the other hand was treated with disdain by the servants.  She was just a governess, a woman of high standing, forced to work because her family had failed. Isabella got up from her desk, walked to the window seat and sat down next to Harriet.

''My dear, listen to this idea. You will love it, I am sure. We're going to have a ball, a Masquerade Ball.''

''What fun,'' Isabella said without meaning it.

''Oh, I do hope so. Listen to me carefully. You and I are friends. I know my brother frowns upon our friendship, but he is just a fuddy-duddy.” Harriet placed her hand on Isabella’s. “You know my brother has been desperately lonely since the death of his wife. Her passing left him devastated, as you know. But she died five years ago. He thinks it is time to find a new wife. That's why I am going to help organize a ball. We will invite hundreds of eligible women and he can take his pick.''

Isabella suddenly felt faint. She was going to lose her beloved Duke to another woman. ''Splendid, yes. The Duke deserves to be happy. Now I really must.....''

''Not so fast. I haven't told you the best bit yet.'' Harriet was a master plotter. Usually, Isabella loved hearing about her schemes, but she had been shattered by the news that she was planning to marry the Duke off. She had lost all interest in discussing the matter further.

''I want you to come to the ball as well.''

Isabella turned bright red. ''It is not my place to question the judgment of the Duke's sister. However, I really don't think that is a good idea. What should I do at the ball? I won't know anybody, and I am really not the kind of woman who enjoys dancing with strange men.''

''Strange men? You won't need to dance with strange men? You my dear, will win the hand of my brother.''

''What?'' Isabella spluttered. ''Now I really am questioning your judgment. In all my twenty two years on this planet, that is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard. Quite preposterous.''

''No, it is not.” Harriet shook her head. “You are the most beautiful woman I know. I have a hundred lady friends and it is you, whose looks I admire most. Look at you, you are perfect. You are as tall as I am, and your figure is so slight, the next breath of air would knock you down. Your eyes are a magnificent sea blue. They would make any man fall at your feet. Your dark hair makes you look seductive. Your bust fills any gown to perfection, and your bottom is almost invisible. I have no idea why you dress like a frumpy old woman, but I will change that. When you go to the ball, you will turn heads and make my brother want you more than he has ever wanted anyone.''

''Harriet, please stop. If you continue with this ridiculous idea, I am afraid I will have to terminate our friendship. I am embarrassed by the notion that your brother would be interested in me. He plainly will not be. Now I have work to do.''

''You are wrong, dear Isabella. I want you to go to the ball. It will be our secret, the Duke is to know nothing of it.''

''Please, do not do this. There isn't a man on this earth I respect more than the Duke. He has all the attributes any woman yearns for. He is handsome, polite, witty and charming. Do not make a fool of him by trying to marry him off to me.''

''You are in love with him, aren't you. I can tell by the way you speak of him.  Splendid, that makes it all the easier. I know you two would be so happy together. It simply has to work.''

''Harriet please, you are causing me more pain than I can bear. I beg you, give up this idea.''

****

''Edith, how was your lunch? Where are the boys?'' Isabella asked her eldest charge.

At seven years old, Edith was already an accomplished piano player, and fluent in French. Isabella took great pride in teaching Edith. She could see herself in the young girl. Edith was keen to learn but lacked confidence, just as Isabella had.

''Boys, hello,” Isabella’s said as they stomped into the room. “I have some lovely things for us to do this afternoon. Edith you are going to look at the subjunctive tense with me, and boys, I want you to draw. We will start with a drawing of your home.''

''I see you are busy, Isabella,'' the Duke said. He was standing in the doorway. She looked across at him and felt her heart rate increase.

''Yes, my Lord. I'm teaching Edith the subjunctive tense and the boys are drawing a picture of the castle. Can I be of help to you?'' Isabella tried not to stare at him but it was impossible. He was simply the most gorgeous man she had ever set her eyes upon. He was over six feet tall and broad in the shoulder. He had a presence that filled any room and made people take notice of him. When he looked at her with his emerald green eyes, he made her feel like a giggly little girl. She loved his dark hair and the way it flopped over every time he tilted his head.

''Can you please come to my study after Nanny has taken the children this evening? There is something I would like to talk to you about.''

''Yes, my Lord. I will come to you shortly after five,'' Isabella said nervously. What did he want with her? Did he know about the idiotic scheming of his sister? Had she upset one of the children? There was no way of knowing why he suddenly wanted to speak to her. She would have to wait. 

The afternoon passed more slowly than Isabella had ever thought possible. Eventually though, it was five o'clock and the children were taken into Nanny's capable hands.

Isabella went to her room before she went to see the Duke. She wished to remove her chemisette and attend to her hair.

****

''Come in,'' the Duke shouted after Isabella had knocked on the polished mahogany door. The Duke's study was off the central entrance hall. As she opened the door, she was overcome with nerves.

''Ah, Isabella, thank you for coming to see me. Please sit down.''

Isabella sat down in a comfortable arm chair and waited for him to speak. While he finished writing, she looked around. It was a splendid room. On the walls, were pictures of previous Dukes at work in the same room. The study was as big as a tennis court. On the left wall, there was a huge marble mantelpiece adorned with the finest porcelain dogs. The Duke was a keen shooter and since the death of his wife, he had surrounded himself with Spaniels. One of them was lying at his feet. His desk was of mahogany and filled with papers. Isabella loved the feel of the room. It was a place of contemplation and honest endeavor.

''Isabella,'' he began. ''My children adore you. They never talk about anybody else the way they talk about you. To them you are heaven sent.''

''Thank you, my Lord. It is most kind of you to say so.''

''I only wish they spoke of me in the same manner. I have also noted Edith's excellent progress. She really is the most splendid piano player. Thoroughly entertaining. It is you I have to thank for that.” The Duke paused. “But, and I say this with a huge amount of regret, I am disappointed in you.''

His words slammed into her like a steam train. She found herself clutching her sweaty palms into the soft material of the chair.

''My Lord, I am most humbled, indeed shocked by your words. It has never been my intention to offend you in anyway. Please tell me how I have managed to do so, and I will correct myself immediately.''

''Are you good at being economical with the truth Isabella?''

''If you mean lying, my Lord, the answer is no. I never intentionally tell something which is not true.''

''Then why did you not tell me your father is at His Majesty's pleasure in Pentonville Prison?''

Isabella swallowed. ''When I came to work here, my Lord, my father was not in that place.''

''Then prey tell me, what is he doing there now?''

''He has debts.'' Isabella felt herself trembling and on the verge of tears. ''My father entered into a business venture with someone of ill repute. That man stole money from the venture they were joined in. Since then, my father has been trying to honor those debts. The other man has run away. The debts were so great, my father has been unable to repay them fully. He has tried but he couldn't, and now he has been sent to prison.''

''Do you understand the seriousness of this situation Isabella? Prison carries a giant stigma. The fact that the father of the woman that teaches my children is incarcerated, reflects very badly on my children, me and this whole household.''

Isabella could feel herself frown. ''I am sorry sir. I understand. Perhaps you will accept my resignation.''

''I will not accept your resignation. I want the best for my children, and that is you. However, I wanted to mention the matter to you. Please do not withhold any information about your father again. If there is a development in his case I want to know. I also want to know the sum of his debts.''

''Yes, of course, I will find out and inform you, as soon as I can.''