The Secret Duke (33 page)

“Sailors do. So their bodies will be identified if they drown.”

“Don’t speak of that.”

“It’s a reality of life on the seas.” He fingered the bow that tied her cap beneath her chin. “You permit?”

Bella swallowed, not sure what she was permitting, but she said, “Yes.”

He tugged it loose and then pulled her into a sitting position so he could take off her cap. Then he moved her entirely so her legs were on either side of him, so she was almost sitting in his lap, spread over him. . . .

He slid his hands behind her to undo the ribbon that held her plait in place and freed her hair, running his fingers through it. His touch against her scalp was so sweet she wondered why she’d never been aware of the possibility.

She realized that in this position she could do to him what he did to her.

She ran her fingers into his hair. “Does that feel as wonderful?”

“I hope so, for then I’m pleasing you delightfully.”

Shyly, she asked, “What else can I do to please you?”

“May I open the curtains and light more candles?”

“You left a candle lit?”

“How else are we seeing?”

She laughed at her folly. “Yes, I’d like to see more. Is that too bold of me?”

“Nothing is too bold, Bellissima. Nothing.”

He climbed out of her side of the bed, sweeping back the curtains to let in candle- and firelight. It gleamed on his naked torso. He wore only his linen drawers.

He’d brought a whole branch of candles into the bedroom, and now he lit them.

He’d prepared for this, which both shocked and thrilled her. Certainly he wasn’t reluctant. He wasn’t doing this out of obligation. That allowed her to eat up his beauty. Broad shoulders tapering down to trim waist and hips. Strong buttocks beneath fine lawn. Muscles everywhere. Sleek muscles, but powerful. She supposed a sea captain did more than simply shout commands.

He turned with the single candle, catching her ogling him, and grinned as he returned to the bed. Bella frankly appreciated the front view. The uncertain light of the wavering candle painted different contours on his chest. Different from her memories of him at the Compass. But if anything he was more beautiful.

He put the candle on the bed stand and sat before her again. “If I distress you, tell me to stop.”

“I can’t imagine you distressing me.”

“I can. In ways you will later like.”

She laughed. “That makes no sense.”

He smiled. “We’ll see.”

He unfastened her nightgown and spread it, but he continued to pull it down her arms, down until her breasts were completely exposed. She wanted to cover them with her hands but, at the same time, didn’t want to.

“Undistressed?” he asked, watching her.

“Disturbed,” she managed, “but not distressed. Does the sight of my breasts please you?”

“Immensely.” He leaned down and took a nipple between his lips, playing with it. Bella grew hot and tried to grip him, but her arms were trapped.

He sucked. Her body jolted.

“So responsive,” he murmured, kissing and licking his way to her other breast. “You have no idea how much it pleases me to reveal these delights to you. You are, I hope, delighted?”

Bella gasped. “I do believe I am, sir, but you have my arms trapped and I want to touch you.”

He worked the nightgown all the way off her arms, freeing her, exposing her down to her hips. He ran his hands over her, then around to her back. How could she not have known how sensitive her back was? She was complete sensitivity, humming with it. She slid her hands behind him, stroked him as he was stroking her.

She remembered hair, and raised one hand into his. Her fingers played against his scalp and then down the back of his neck, understanding what he’d said about the pleasure of pleasuring.

Perhaps he purred before he lowered his lips to her breasts again.

Bella ceased thinking as she tumbled into dark, heated passion.

She emerged hungry for more. More in all ways. She kissed his chest and then the dark tattoo. She drew a nail down his skin, watching the way the line was pale and then disappeared. She played with his body, and he permitted it, simply touching her, stroking her, in ways that seemed almost idle except for the way he kept her alive with sensation, and built more desire.

Then came the time when all their bedcovers were gone, and all their clothes were gone. The room was chilly, for the fire had burned low, but they had heat enough between them.

Bella studied his manly part, the way it rose up against him so long and stiff. She touched it. So hard. So hot.

She heard his breath catch and looked at him. He smiled and closed her hand around it. “You permit?” he said.

Bella inhaled. “Do you?”

“Of course.”

He put his hand over hers and moved her against him. “That pleases me, Bella, but only do what pleases you.”

“I am pleased by pleasing you.”

He grinned. “My view entirely. Please me, then.”

There was freedom in that, but challenge too, so Bella decided to do exactly what pleased her as she explored this new experience, and it seemed to work as he’d said, and please them both. Especially when she had the pleasure of watching him in his passion, literally at her hands.

He’d thrown the sheet over himself to catch the fluid. The fluid that should enter her.

If they were married.

This, she realized, was the height or depths of sin, but she didn’t care. She cradled his head and kissed him, a deeper, hotter kiss than ever before, and then he pleasured her again, and again, seeming to know how to send her to a point of destruction and then rescue her just before she died.

“I want to do that to you,” she mumbled, exhausted.

“What a delightful thought,” he murmured against her neck, and tucked her close against his body as she slid down into sleep.

She stirred as a clock chimed. Five times.

It was still dark. She was still held close against his glorious, naked body.

She thought of all the women who didn’t seem to experience this symphony of pleasure. Perhaps she should write a book. For the wives, or the husbands?

“Your thoughts?” he murmured, a skillful hand playing on her flank.

“Only of pleasure. Why isn’t it always like this?”

“You’re very responsive.”

“Is that why other women don’t seem to experience this?”

He turned her and teased her breasts again. They were sensitive, almost sore, but he seemed to know that. His touch was soft as a feather.

“You know the intimate secrets of other women?” he asked.

Bella realized she was close to things she didn’t want to talk about, but that she’d have to, and soon. There must be honesty between them. She pushed that aside for now.

“Women sometimes talk,” she said. “It’s clear many dislike their marriage bed.”

“And sometimes that’s the problem.” He swept fingers lightly down her naked body to end at the sensitive rim of her behind. “For some women nakedness itself is unpleasant.”

“Oh. But are all men as skillful as you at this?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

He chuckled. “What interesting conversations you start, my fascinating Bella. As well ask why not all cooks produce good food.”

“A matter of training?” she asked doubtfully.

“And perhaps natural talent.”

She rolled to meet his smile. “I should have expected you to claim that.”

“Talent and a great deal of training.”

Before Bella could ask her startled question, he kissed her into silence with too much talent for her to resist.

 

 

 

 

B
ella woke late and lazily, once again physically complete. She rolled to look at Thorn, beautiful in relaxed sleep. If only that had been their wedding night, sealing them together for eternity.

As it was, she felt it should be almost the same. How was it possible for them to have done such things and part? But he might see it differently, and she was aware that he had not taken her maidenhead. Such extraordinary care.

Might it mean that he wanted to be sure that they wouldn’t be tied by a child?

It hurt to think him so calculating, but in truth, it was sensible.

What did sense have to do with such things?

She knew she could scramble her wits by going around and around that, so she turned her thoughts firmly toward the day of retribution. She rose and dressed quickly and went into the parlor to take refuge in needlework. Once Thorn emerged from the bedchamber, however, she became almost shaky with awareness of him, with memories, with echoes of sensation. . . .

He smiled and kissed her, but it was a gentle kiss.

Probably that was wise.

“It’s going to be hard to wait,” she said, but then wasn’t sure what she was referring to. He smiled, and she wasn’t sure of the meaning behind that, either.

She said, “There’s nothing to do until the magistrates’ court is over and the men are settled to their pleasures.”

“We could have breakfast,” he pointed out, amused, and went to summon it.

He was all too aware of the effect he was having on her, but she couldn’t be angry at him. She could never be angry at him over anything.

Bella was surprised to find herself hungry, but she supposed she’d taken a great deal of exercise in the night. If so, it hadn’t tired her out. After breakfast she paced the parlor restlessly.

She suddenly turned to him. “I want to visit the court.”

“Is that wise?” he asked, still drinking his tea.

“I don’t know. But I want to see Augustus being a magistrate. Remind myself of how foul he is.”

He considered her. “I don’t suppose he’ll recognize you if we stay at the back of the room, but tease some of the wig forward on your face, and wear your hat with the brim pulled forward. And the spectacles.”

Huffily, she picked them up from the table. She’d never disliked wearing Bellona’s pair as much as she disliked these. It could be because they were round lenses, or it could be because she hated what they did to her appearance now, with Thorn.

He smiled as if he knew. “They won’t be here until the afternoon, however, so we should go hunting.”

Bella didn’t want to, but she had to agree. Thorn even insisted on taking a leisurely dinner at an inn some miles from Upstone, when she fretted that the magistrates might advance their plans. That something could go wrong if they weren’t in the Hart and Hare.

“Patience, my dear,” he said when she fumed at him. “We’ll be in time, and the later we return, and the less chance of stumbling over your brother, the better.”

She settled back into their pattern of stopping to ask country people about the cats. Today there were no kisses, but only comfortable silences and relaxed conversation. Bella noticed how easy his manner was with farmers and farm laborers, putting everyone at their ease.

How different he must be from his haughty half brother. He was, however, just a little too fond of flirting with the women, and they were all extremely eager to flirt with him. Life married to Captain Rose would be trying at times, but she definitely wanted to attempt it.

They returned to Upstone as the clocks struck three, and by the time they approached the Hart, Bella was so highly strung she was almost bouncing. Tabitha had shut the basket on her, and Thorn was shaking his head.

“Do try to act as if this is an ordinary day.”

“I should have brought a handkerchief,” she muttered.

He immediately offered his.

“To sew, you idiot!”

She looked at him, appalled, but then began to giggle. His lips were twitching, and she thought they must both seem like idiots as they arrived in the yard. The place was quite busy, perhaps because of the court.

Bella hurried to their room to check that hair and hat hid part of her face, and then she went with Thorn to the long room where the court was taking place.

It was the room where the magistrates would later dine, so as they entered, Bella quickly checked the windows. Two large ones. Excellent.

She looked to the far end, where the three magistrates were deciding the fate of a miscreant. Squire Thoroughgood was in the center, fatter than ever and sneering. On his right sat a fashionable man in his thirties, looking bored. That must be Sir Newleigh Dodd. On his left—on the sinister side, thought Bella—sat Augustus.

He’d put on a little weight since she’d last seen him, but managed to look pinched with superiority and disapproval, even with rounder cheeks. The case seemed to be one of destruction of property, which was serious. The young man had held a grievance against a landowner and had destroyed some fences. He was trying to deny it, but it seemed clear enough.

Once Bella would have been sure he was wicked and deserved the strictest punishment. Now she knew more about how hardship could lead to desperation.

Squire Thoroughgood imposed a fine of three guineas. Nearly everyone in the room gasped, and the young man cried, “I can’t pay that!”

“Then you’ll go to America to work it off,” said Augustus with disgusting satisfaction.
Disgustus
, Bella thought, without the slightest amusement.

“Stay here,” Thorn said. “Don’t attract attention.”

He rose and strolled closer to the magistrates’ bench. “Gentlemen, I will pay this young man’s fine.”

Two pairs of eyes glared at him. Sir Newleigh merely looked like a surprised sheep.

“Who are you, sir?” Squire Thoroughgood growled. “And why seek to pervert justice in this way? In league with him, are you?”

“My name is Captain Rose, and justice requires only that the fine be paid, does it not?”

“Justice requires that a sinner be punished!” Augustus cried, slapping his hand on the table. Bella was sure he wished he had a thundering voice rather than a high-pitched one.