The Duke's Revenge (9 page)

She nodded without looking at him. She was
too tired now to fight him for she knew there would be more
fighting when she got home, with her mother.

Max shouted at the driver to take them back
and not long afterward the carriage drew to a stop at the courtyard
of Michaels Mansion.

Grace rushed out the house, her anger now at
its peak. Behind her was Lord McNeil. The old man who had just
arrived a few minutes before was heaving with exertion as he tried
to keep up with Grace.

She stood watching as first Max came out of
the carriage and then Ivy. They were walking up the pathway toward
the house.

“
Hello, Lady Westwood, we
did have a nice ride, did we not, Sweet Ivy?” Max said, looking at
the girl beside him.

Ivy didn’t respond, just stood there staring
at the snow-covered steps, hugging herself and shivering.

“
Eh? Who the hell is your
‘Sweet Ivy,’ eh?” Lord McNeil shouted. He was shaking from head to
toe. “Ivy is to be m’ bride, not yours,” he shouted. His voice
echoed in the vast courtyard.

Max turned to the redheaded man. He narrowed
his eyes and raised his brows. “Ivy is to be your bride?”

“
Indeed, she is,” Lord
McNeil shouted, his hands shaking.

“
Ah...I presume you have
proposed to her then?” Max stared at the old crone.
God, what nerve has he to interfere with his
plan?

“
I have,” the old man
snapped.

“
Did she agree to take
your old, wrinkle hands in marriage then?” Max narrowed his eyes,
looking from Lord McNeil and meaningfully to Grace.

The woman met his gaze and shuddered. She
turned away.

“
Well...” Lord McNeil
flustered in his spot.

“
I presume she did not
accept, did she?” Max laughed. His timbre voice was loud that Ivy
turned to look at him.

“
Well, she hasn’t yet,”
Lord McNeil stammered.

“
Ah, that is too bad,
really, Mister, err,” Max raised his brows at the old
man.

Lord McNeil frowned.
“Not
mister
, I am
an earl, ye bastard. A lord, ye hear. I am Lord Steven McNeil ye
get that name in ye head right.”

“
Ah, Lord McNeil, is it?
Indeed, if you must know,
Lord
McNeil
, Sweet Ivy
is
my mistress.”

Grace flashed her gaze to him in anger.

Lord McNeil gasped and then he shook his
head. “Canno’ be true!”

“
Oh yes, it is true,” Max
said, his voice loud and clear. “Isn’t that right, Ivy?”

Ivy tilted her head up to look at him.

At that moment, the sunlight illuminated her
features. Max felt his lust rushing up in his hot veins. He grabbed
her by the neck and kissed her lips. She was soft and sweet, like
honey.

Ivy didn’t like the fact that he was kissing
her right in front of everyone. She brought her hands up to his
chest and pushed him away. Once he had lifted his head from hers,
she looked away and her gaze met with her mother’s. She saw the
other woman glaring at her. She wanted to die.

“
Lady Westwood, look after
my young mistress very carefully. I wish her to be
perfect
,” he said. He
was laughing inside when he saw the lady paled. He looked toward
Lord McNeil and saw that the old man had turned a scarlet red and
was shaking uncontrollably.

Ivy shuddered. She couldn’t even stand that
he touched her in the carriage for fifteen minutes, so how could
she stand being with him for one whole night? God, one whole night
and mayhap more....

“
Remember, Lady
Westwood,
perfect
, she needs to be perfect for me.” Ivy heard him say. She
turned and saw him strolling toward the coach, whistling a tune all
the while as if he had not a worry in the world. She looked at him
as he climbed into the carriage, and seconds later, he was
gone.

CHAPTER 8

Ivy looked around the room
that was appointed to her. It was very large and elegant; a room
that her Papa would have appointed to an important guest. She
wondered why
he
would put her up in his castle instead of a townhouse in
London like all his other mistresses before her.

She got up and wondered to the wardrobe. She
opened it and stared wide eyes at the beautiful arrays of colorful
petticoats and gowns. Then her surprise turned into anger.

Did he think to woo her with beautiful
gowns? She did not care for the likes of gowns, hates, and gloves.
God, all she wanted was her freedom to live her life. She did not
want to feel trap like a caged animal.

Instantly, she hated herself for being so
weak, for letting her mother bullied her into this.

She felt lost and alone. Her emotion was so
overwhelming that she threw herself on the bed and sobbed her heart
out. She didn’t know how long she stayed there crying quietly
inside, hating her life and hating herself.

“
M’ lady, get up.” Lisa
nudged her arm. “M’ lady, you must change afore you sleep. I know
you are tired after the journey but you must change afore you
retire.”

Ivy opened her protesting eyes. She sat up
and gave a loud yawn. Lisa grabbed her hand and helped her up.

“
I’m so tired,” she said,
turning her back for Lisa to undo the length of buttons. “Is my
bath ready?”

“
Not yet,” Lisa said,
sliding the sleeve down Ivy’s arm. Then she proceeded to remove the
whole dress down Ivy’s waist. “Oh my, you’re wearing a new
corset.”

“
Aye, I do not like it
though. I’ve never worn a corset before but Mama insisted
and...”

“
It’s the fashion,” Lisa
said, untying the strings. “Do you know I would never have thought
I would ever see you again?”

“
Neither do I,” Ivy
commented, freeing herself from the corset. “If papa had not
brought you home and made you my companion that day when I turned
six, I don’t ever think that I would have a friend in the
world.”

“
Aye, the earl was a very
generous man. If not for him I would still be in the workhouse
today or perhaps...”

Ivy looked down at herself and saw that the
material of her chemise was sticking onto her skin inappropriately.
She straightened it out by pulling them down.

“
I will see to your bath
now,” Lisa said and left.

Ivy went to sit in the middle of the bed.
Tears started to roll down her cheeks. Disgusted at her self-pity,
she brought her hands up and wiped them away.

The door opened. It must
be Lisa coming to tell her that her bath was ready, she thought,
and looked up. She saw
him
—
her
master
—the duke of Lynwood, striding
toward her. Her heart kicked in her chest. The aura of his strength
was so magnificent that she felt her bone weaken at the very sight
of him.

“
What are you doing
here?”

“
Why should you asked,
mistress?” Max said mockingly. “I am your master.” He reached out
to grab for her arm.

“
Nay, your grace,” she
said and shifted away.

He missed.

“
Nay?” he asked and sat
near her feet.

Ivy stared at him as he leaned forward. She
put her hands on the bed for support and started to shift
backward--slowly away from him.

He smiled when he saw her do that. “You’re
afraid of me?”

Ivy panicked as he advanced closer. She
moved further back as she stared at him.

“
You shouldn’t be here,
you should be at—”

“
Where else would I’d
rather be at?” His face turned into a hard mask. “Where would I be,
Ivy?”

“
With your other
mistresses or my mother, that’s where you should be.”

“
Why would I want to be
there?” he said in a low heated voice.

She jumped. She hastily turned and saw that
she had reached the top of the bed. She had nowhere to run to now.
She frowned at the damn bed, cursing it because it wasn’t long
enough for her to get away from this brute.

“
I said why would I be
there instead?” He caught her slender angle and gave it a
tug.

Her bottom slid down. She panicked and
shifted her gazed to him in confusion. He tugged her leg again. Her
bottom slide down a bit more. She blinked.

Leisurely, his hand moved up the length of
her leg. It was as if he was stroking her skin but at the same time
she felt threaten. The slowness did nothing to ease her raging
heart. She felt the tingling sensations through her being. His gaze
was intense on her face.

She bit her lip and her fingers were digging
into the pillow. She gathered all her inner strength and kicked his
hand away. He narrowed his eyes dangerously at her.

She shifted backward and hit her back
against the wall again.

He caught her other leg and tugged her
down.

She found herself half-lying on the bed.

She scrambled up. When she tried to kick his
hand from her leg again, it was too late. He had managed to lift
the hem of her chemise up to her thigh, his fingers gently
caressing the embroidery of her garter around her thigh.

He hooked one finger under the garter and
slid it down the length of her thigh.

Ivy’s heart was thumping so hard in her
chest she was scared it might pop out of being. She bit her lip for
control. There was an urgent feeling twisting in the midst of her
womanhood. Her body was shaking with reactions. Suddenly, without
herself knowing it, she groaned.

He glanced at her and smiled.

Her garter and stocking were now around her
angle, exposing her shapely leg. He lifted her heel up in midair
and freed the garter and stocking. Then he proceeded to stroked
her, from her heel all the way up to her thigh.

Ivy couldn’t think. All she could do was
feel this thrilling sensation all over her body.

His face was inches from hers now. His hot
breath was fanning on her cheek. He moved his head closer, and
erotically, he licked her upper lip with his tongue. When she just
sat there staring at him like a halfwit child, he licked her lip
again. This time his tongue stroked the whole length of her
lip.

That action did amazing things to Ivy’s
being. She wanted more. God help, but she wanted more. This burning
fire in the midst of her womanhood tightened even more.

“
Oh...” she breathed,
closing her eyes.

He smiled arrogantly and then he took her
lips. It was a slow, soft kiss. It was long and erotic. Suddenly,
he plucked his tongue in her mouth and wildly invaded her.

A bolt of fear hit her. She pushed him away.
When he didn’t respond, she shook her head and banged his chest
with her fists to get his attention.

Max was so consumed with his own desire that
he didn’t think how far he had gone. When at last he lifted his
head, he saw her teary eyes staring up at him. She looked
scared.

She hugged herself into a ball. “Go away, I
don’t want you here,” she said quietly.

He laughed harshly. “My dear, only moments
ago you were please with what I did to you, and now, you’re kicking
me out?” he said. “Come here!”

She scrambled off the bed and ran to the
door. She was about to open it when it was jerked open from the
other side.

“
Oh, m’ lady,” Lisa
gasped. She turned and saw her master. She quickly lowered her
head. “I’m sorry, your grace, I did not know you’re
here.”

Max turned his gaze from the maid to his
mistress. Ivy was trembling from head to toe, he realized. Did she
fear him that much?

Without a word he turned and stalked out the
room.

Ivy turned to Lisa. She cried on the maid’s
shoulder and her whole body shook uncontrollably.

“
Hush, m’ lady, everything
will be all right, you’ll see.”

“
Perhaps...perhaps I was
just tired, that’s all.” Ivy lifted her head and stared at the
maid. “Perhaps it was just the long day.”

“
I know,” Lisa said.
“Come, your bath is ready.”

The warm water soothed her, calming her
cranky nerves like the sun rising after a whole night of angry
storm. Once she had dressed into her nightshirt and got into bed,
she wondered why she was crying so much for nothing. She could
never change the past, and she could never change the fact that she
was now a mistress to a duke. She must stop drooling about the
negative and look on the positive side. One thing was for sure, she
now has Lisa, her friend, as her lady’s maid. The fact that she was
now also living in her old home was something to thank for. Aye,
those were the positive side. After this night she would look more
positively at the day ahead and truly try to be happy no matter
what. Nodding her head with that determination, she closed her eyes
with a smile.

Not a moment later, however, her smile
vanished and her frown appeared in full force. For in her mind’s
eyes, she saw him again. Would he never leave her in peace? Go
away, she told the image in her head. But the blonde hair man would
not leave her in peace; he stubbornly lingered in her mind until
she drifted off to sleep.

CHAPTER 9

Max gazed at his mistress strolling near the
lake through the window. From this far he could not see her face,
and he found himself picturing what she would look like under that
lovely morning sun.