The Duke's Men [1] What the Duke Desires (31 page)

Apparently he felt the same. The sun rose as he sucked her nipples hard through her
shift while fondling her below with long, firm strokes of his clever fingers, making
her even more impatient for him.

“Max,” she whispered, “Max, please . . . please . . . I need you
now
.”

“Good,” he said hoarsely as he settled himself between her legs. “Because I can’t
wait any longer to have you.”

Next thing she knew, he’d entered her right through the opening in her drawers. She
nearly came out of her skin as he buried himself to the hilt.

“Lisette,” he choked out. “Oh, God, Lisette . . .”

Then he began to move. It was so different from
before—no pain, no awkwardness. Just Max joined to her, claiming her, making her his
own.

The reckless glitter in his eyes as he drove into her with hard, eager thrusts told
her that when they were like this, he was not the duke. He was her wild lover.

“This is how . . . it should always be,” he rasped as he quickened his strokes. “You . . .
in my bed . . . in my arms . . . Always.”

For the moment, she gave herself up to that dream. He was thunder and lightning and
rain, and she was the earth and flowers that drank up the storm. He was the only man
she wanted, the only man she would ever want, and she was his only mate.

She felt her release approaching, rising to seize her in its grip and drive her up . . .
up . . . up . . . until Max gave one final thrust inside her and let out a ragged
cry that triggered her own glorious explosion.

In that moment, as he clutched her to him and filled her with his seed, she knew she’d
lost the battle to protect her heart. She loved him. Oh, Lord, how she loved him.

After a while, his breathing slowed. He bent his head to kiss her cheek and nuzzle
her neck. Then he slid off to lie next to her on his back, staring up at the ceiling.

Though she knew she had just done the most foolish thing of her life, she snuggled
up against him. “You make an excellent bed.”

He laughed. “Feel free to use me as one whenever you like.” He curled his arm about
her and held her,
stroking her hair. “We could wake up like this every morning, you know.”

She rubbed her cheek over his chest. “At least until you started imagining that you
saw signs of madness in yourself. Until you sent me away to protect me, whether or
not I wanted or needed protection.”

When he uttered a long sigh, she swallowed her disappointment. The man was so stubborn!
And so determined to have everything his way.

She slid off the bed. “We have to go. The packet boat will be leaving shortly.”

He sat up. “Lisette, I want you to know that no matter what happens once we find Bonnaud,
my offer of marriage stands. I don’t care what your brother has done or who your mother
was, or whether I prove to be the duke or not. You’re the only woman I would ever
choose to marry.”

Trying not to cry at those sweet words, she smiled sadly. “And my answer still stands.
It’s
because
you’re the only man I want to marry that I must have a real marriage. That isn’t
going to change.”

He muttered a curse under his breath. But at least he didn’t argue with her.

An hour later, they were aboard the steam packet headed for London. This time, the
crossing proved every bit as miserable as her mood. A squall arose, tossing the boat
on the churning sea as easily as a matchstick. So they spent their time huddled in
the main cabin with the other passengers, trying to stay warm and dry.

“Do you still miss your yacht?” she asked him. “I
daresay it would have been torn to bits during this storm.”

He shook his head. “I have an able captain and a very seaworthy vessel. It has made
the crossing more times than you have, I’ll wager.” His eyes gleamed at her. “And
it will make the crossing many times more. After all, I intend very soon to take a
wife who has family connections in France.”

She sighed and averted her gaze. He wouldn’t give up, would he? She didn’t know whether
to be thrilled over his determination, or to despair that he continued to insist it
be on his terms.

But one thing was certain: If she didn’t get away from him soon, he would win. Because
with every passing moment, she lost more of her will to resist him.

M
AXIMILIAN STOOD ON
the dark London dock with Lisette and their bags, having spent the hours since their
arrival in arranging this meeting. His heart pounded as he watched a lamplit boat
being rowed toward them through the night. He couldn’t see the cargo ship beyond it,
but he knew it was there. The
Grecian
had been quarantined right here, under their noses, ever since it had arrived in
London flying a yellow flag six weeks ago.

He’d found two names on the passenger manifest—Jack Drake, a common alias of Bonnaud’s,
and Victor Cale. Maximilian wasn’t sure why Peter had chosen to go by another Christian
name after the fire, but it couldn’t be coincidence that the surname was Cale. He
and Lisette had found the needle in the haystack at last.

Amazing what a man could discover once he knew where to look . . . and once he was
able to use his title. Maximilian had spent the past few hours bullying Privy
Council members and shipping officials alike to gain information and arrange to be
taken aboard the
Grecian
.

A cynical smile crossed his lips. Apparently getting
onto
a quarantined ship was a damned sight easier than getting off of one. Especially
when the authorities couldn’t agree if there was even anyone with cholera aboard.

In this case, the madness in his family was a help to him. No one was terribly surprised
that the Duke of Lyons would do something as insane as to go aboard a quarantined
ship. He’d been careful not to reveal why. He hadn’t even mentioned the names of the
men he wanted to see. No point in giving the press more fodder before he knew the
situation. Besides, there was the matter of Bonnaud traveling under an assumed name
and being a wanted man.

It had been harder to get the authorities to agree to let Lisette on board, especially
since he’d refused to tell them who she was. But a few covert bribes had convinced
them.

He glanced at Lisette. “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked, fighting not
to grab her hand in front of the quarantine officer accompanying them. “Once we’re
aboard, they may not let us leave until quarantine is lifted. What is your half brother
going to think if he arrives from Scotland to find that you’re still not home?”

“I sent a messenger with a note for Skrimshaw to give to Dom, in case he returns soon.”
She cast the quarantine officer a furtive glance. “I didn’t tell him
where I was—just that I was safe. I didn’t want to alarm Dom over the quarantine.
But I did warn him about Hucker.”

“Good idea. The man is bound to have returned to England by now, and he may very well
return to watching Manton’s Investigations.”

“I know. That’s why I have to go aboard with you—I have to talk to my . . . friend
about what he’s risking by coming here.”

“I understand.” That was why Maximilian hadn’t pushed her into going home. After all
they’d been through, she deserved to have her concerns about Bonnaud laid to rest.

Besides, a tiny, selfish part of him wanted her there for this encounter with the
man who might very well be his brother. He was too agitated to think straight at present,
and he knew that she would.

“So is there anyone on board the ship with fever or not?” Lisette asked. “If the ship
has been here for six weeks and everyone has a clean bill of health, it should be
out of quarantine by now. Since you made me stay in the carriage for most of your
visits to the government officials, I never got the full story.”

“To be honest, neither did I. At most there is one ill passenger on board. They couldn’t
tell me if it was cholera or not, however. My friend on the Privy Council would only
say they’d been consulting with doctors.” He shot her a quick glance. “That’s my only
worry about taking you out there. The thought of you catching cholera sends a chill
down my spine.”

A soft smile lit her face. “I feel the same about you. But I doubt it’s cholera, and
if only one passenger has it, we may not even encounter the ill individual.”

He bloody well hoped not.

The boat reached the dock. They made the short trip out to the ship in a silence punctuated
only by the slap of the waves against the boards and the swish of the oars through
the water.

Once they boarded, they were met by the ship’s captain. The quarantine officer introduced
them as the Duke of Lyons and his “lady companion,” which made Maximilian wince but
didn’t seem to overly concern Lisette. Then the official beat a hasty retreat to the
boat.

“Well, Your Grace?” the captain asked when they were alone. “I do hope you’ve come
to get the quarantine lifted.”

That caught Maximilian off guard. “Actually, we need to see two of your passengers—Jack
Drake and Victor Cale.”

The captain’s eyes narrowed. “Are they friends of yours?”

“You might say that,” Maximilian retorted. “Why?”

“Because Victor Cale is the reason the
Grecian
is still sitting here. After we were forced into quarantine, Cale got ill. My ship’s
physician, whom I would trust with my life, is convinced he has pneumonia, so there’s
no reason for continuing the quarantine just for him. But the damned quarantine officers
won’t lift it without permission from the Privy Council, and the Privy Council is
too afraid to stick its neck out. So my men
and my cargo are trapped here until he recovers. Or dies.”

Maximilian tensed. “Is there a chance of him dying?”

“He’s been very sick for over two weeks. Dr. Worth is beginning to despair. And Cale’s
friend Drake spends every waking hour helping to tend him.”

Maximilian grabbed for Lisette’s hand. She squeezed it comfortingly, and that settled
him a little. “Then I should like to speak with Drake and the doctor.”

The captain nodded and inclined his head toward a hatchway. “They’re both below deck
in the infirmary.”

“Thank you,” Maximilian said.

Once they descended the hatchway, they didn’t have to go far before finding the infirmary.
It was the only cabin with a light burning from beneath the door. Before they could
even enter, however, a man stepped out into the dim passageway, the lantern light
from inside briefly illuminating his face.

“Tristan!” Lisette cried, apparently forgetting all about her brother’s alias as she
squeezed past Maximilian to launch herself at the man.

“Lisette?” he said in clear bewilderment as she hugged him. He pulled back to look
at her. “Good God, it
is
you! What the devil are you doing here?”

“I should ask you the same thing!” She lowered her voice. “Have you lost your mind,
coming to England? George has had a man snooping about Dom’s, and if he should learn
that you’re so close . . .”

Bonnaud flashed her the cocky grin that Maximilian remembered from their chat at the
races years ago.
“Surely you and Dom were too careful for that.” Then he peered past her. “How did
you know I was here? Is that Dom with you?”

Maximilian moved into the light. “No, it’s the Duke of Lyons.”

Bonnaud gaped at him. “You found me!”

“It took some doing,” Maximilian said, “but yes.”

Bonnaud glanced back into the room behind him. They could hear violent coughing coming
from inside. “This way,” he said, pointing down the passageway. “We can talk.”

“I want to see him first,” Maximilian snapped.

Not needing to ask who he meant, Bonnaud said, “He’s very ill.”

“The captain told us as much,” Maximilian said.

As Maximilian entered with Lisette at his side, he stared at the emaciated figure
in the bed. Next to the bed sat a young man who was trying futilely to get the patient
to drink a chemical-smelling draught.

“Your Grace, this is Dr. Worth,” Bonnaud said. “He’s been looking after Victor.” He
glanced at the doctor. “Dr. Worth, this is the Duke of Lyons, a . . . possible relation
of Victor’s. And the lady with him is my sister, Miss Bonnaud.”

When Maximilian shot him a sharp glance, surprised that he’d given the man her actual
name, Bonnaud shrugged. “The doctor and I have spent days together. We no longer have
any secrets. He’s the one who arranged for me to be smuggled off the ship last week.”

“We couldn’t wait for quarantine to be lifted,” Dr. Worth explained. “The possibility
that Mr. Cale might die became more pronounced with each day, and Mr. Bonnaud thought
you might wish to see him before . . . he got too ill.”

Bonnaud scowled. “That cursed quarantine officer wouldn’t let me go beyond the docks
or reveal to you that we were from a quarantine ship, for fear that you would show
up here and get him sacked. He got sacked anyway, smuggling contraband off a couple
of days later.”