All About the Duke (The Dukes' Club Book 4) (18 page)

She hesitated. “Would Lady Imogen have so much to teach me?”

“I think she could be a sympathetic soul. For years, she was forced to dance to society’s tune and finally, when her husband died, she did as she wished. She became independent. Isn’t that the sort of woman you admire?”

“Yes, but promise me, Nicholas, that she was just your friend or tell me now if there was more.”

Nicholas paused, his face pensive in the firelight. “I cannot deny that I have been intimate with many married women in London. I have enjoyed them and they me. But not Imogen. From the moment we met, we were never going to be lovers. I met her and wanted her to become herself. I helped her to that end.”

“As you wish to help me?”

“If you like.”

“You’re a veritable fairy godmother to young women.”

“I do sense an icy tone.”

“No, Nicholas.” How did she explain her feelings? Well, she had to try.

She squared her chin and said, “I just feel so confused by the events that have transpired. I want your help. I want to meet your friends. I want to live boldly and not like some meek sheep of a wife. Of course, I do. But this is all so different than the picture I had painted for myself of what my life would be. Forgive me if it takes time for me to adjust.”

“I will give you all the time you need.” He pulled her close to him. “I know this isn’t what you had wanted, Allegra. But I can’t help but admit I’m delighted that you’re mine.”

She knew he meant well. And it was just a turn of phrase, but her darling Nicholas was as rooted into the views of men and women as anyone else she knew. She was his. She was his now legally. It was her deepest wish that she could find a way not to let that bother her. She had to if she was going to find any sort of contentment in her life.

“Right now, you aren’t in your ideal situation,” he admitted. “I understand that, but perhaps you could enjoy what is good about it.”

“And that is?” she teased. She couldn’t help herself. Already, she knew she was lucky. Compared to so many ladies, she should be grateful. After all, she liked and admired her husband. How many ladies of the
ton
could say such a thing?

“I do think you’re fond of my kisses.”

She laughed and somehow, at the same time, she felt her rigid frame begin to soften. Just hours ago, she’d been on the verge of virtual imprisonment. Hours before that, she’d been lamenting that she’d never see Nicholas again or know his touch. Now, she could feel his touch whenever she wished.

She tilted her head back and gave him a cheeky smile. “Fond is not the word, Your Grace.”

“No?”

She shook her head and pursed her lips playfully.

“How would you describe it then?”

“Undone. One might say I am undone by your kisses.”

“Then let’s have a little undoing.”

“Here?” she asked.

“If I had my way, we’d undo you in every room.”

A deep laugh bubbled from her lips. “Every room?”

He nodded and waggled his brows. “Every room.”

“Shall we start with this one then?” she asked, her voice suddenly richer as her gaze seemed to bloom with passion.

He rubbed his thumb along her lower lip and she bit it. If there was one thing she knew, she and Nicholas would always have this. Their bodies adored each other and goodness, was she grateful. For she could not imagine living her life without the fire between them.

“They do say now is always the best time,” he replied roughly at last.

She smiled slowly, loving to drive him as mad with desire as he did to her. “Then why are we still waiting?”

“Why, indeed, Duchess? Why, indeed?”

N
icholas couldn’t quite fight the feeling that if he made the wrong step his marriage would be over before it began. Allegra was in a precarious place for a young woman. He knew the idealistic type all too well. He’d seen them in artists and revolutionaries all over Europe, the Americas and the East.

All too easily, they became jaded when the reality of the world didn’t match up with the shining dreams they had created. He never wanted that for her. How he longed for her to dream on.  Allegra’s luster was one that was rather miraculous.

It had drawn him to her in a way that no other woman had managed. It was the reason he’d proposed to her so quickly in the country. Not just for honor, but for need. He needed her. He needed her freshness, her unique view of the world if he was to survive.

And so, he’d use whatever weapons he had in his arsenal to keep her from feeling the crush of society and all the things she hated. He’d protect her as he’d never protected anyone and he’d slay any old harridan who dared give her the side eye.

But above all this, her passion was the key to her happiness. Her passions for living, for joy, for ideas, and for the wild heat that happened between them.

Tonight at least, he could start with the latter. He dared not let her slip away to bed alone or he was certain that the gulf that had separated them at Rothton would widen and he’d never quite be able to reach her again.

If he could just pleasure her body and unite with her that way, the rest would follow. He was sure of it. 

And on such surety, Nicholas pulled her against his chest and lowered his head to hers. He took her mouth in a hot kiss, determined to eradicate any indecision that might still be holding her in its sway.

He caressed her mouth with the slightest kisses and then the gentle stroke of his tongue.

She dropped her head back and her hands gripped his shoulders.

God, he could kiss her for hours. The mingling of their mouths and breath and spirit drove him wild. As did the fact that she was now his wife.

The air was slightly chilled as it always was in such large houses, so he guided her toward the fire and the great rug that was laid before it.

She looked up into his eyes, her cheeks aflame with hunger and her lips slightly parted. “I want you now,” she whispered.

He couldn’t speak. A man who was used to words flowing like wine form his lips, Nicholas really couldn’t understand the effect she had on him.

“Make love to me, Nicholas.”

They were the words he longed to hear at this moment and without answering, he swept her into his arms then gently laid her back against the lush fabric before the fire.

She gasped as his hands slid down to her ankles and he brushed her gown up her thighs.

A soft laugh rumbled past his lips.

“Yes?” she challenged breathlessly.

“I’ve never made love to you while you had a frock on.”

She lightly hit his shoulder.

“I quite like it.” He leaned down and lightly bit the flesh just above her garter. “So many things to impede my way and yet. . . If I just. . .”

He kissed further up her legs, pushing up her chemise until the apex of her thighs was exposed to him.

“Ah. So beautiful.”

“Nicholas,” she protested.

“It is beautiful. You are beautiful. And I already know you happen to be delicious.”

With that he allowed himself to lose himself in teasing her most sensitive spot. God, he loved it. Loved how wet and slick and sweet and salty it was to his tongue. And he loved even more the way she moved against him, half wild with need.

Despite how he wanted to lose himself completely, he knew he couldn’t. With Allegra, he always had to be in control because he had to make sure he drove her absolutely wild for him. . . That she always hungered for
him
and no other.

He worshipped her folds, teasing and stroking until a wild cry came from her. A surge of triumph only increased his desire as she writhed against him.

“I want you now,” he said as he pressed kisses to her thighs.

“Please,” she breathed, arching upward.

No timid flower, Allegra grabbed his shoulders, pulling him toward her.

Without hesitation, he undid his breeches, braced his arms on either side of her face, carefully, positioned himself and thrust deep into her wet, hot body.

God, it felt perfect. Like coming home. Like bliss. Like the world had come to an end and nothing could be more sublime.

He rocked against her, thrusting deep, and taking her mouth at once.

Her hands roved over his back, grabbing at his shirt. Ever more impassioned cries slipped from her mouth into his. He savored every one as they moved together.

Her nails dug into his back and he felt his world spin wildly away, bursting into a cloud of white hot perfection.

In that moment, he had no idea where he ended and she began, he felt so as one with her.

And as he began to come back to himself, clinging as one lost in a storm, he knew. . .

He, Nicholas Edward Andrew Forth, Duke of Roth, was in danger of falling in love with his own wife.

***

M
uch to Allegra’s relief, Nicholas didn’t seem determined to launch her at society without some sort of defensive planning. It was impossible to believe that rumors weren’t spreading, but instead of going out the morning after her wedding, Nicholas had asked if she might be willing to remain indoors.

At first, she had quailed. She refused to be a coward. But he had asked her kindly and made it clear he had a reason. For all her boldness, a little extra time preparing to meet the vultures didn’t seem like such a terrible thing.

It also meant she’d spent a remarkable amount of time with her husband, just as they had done before. And she adored it.

Somehow, when it was just the two of them, it seemed as if nothing in the world could intrude upon their accord.

It had been impossible for her to enjoy herself though until Nicholas had received word that Rose was perfectly safe with her mother in the country. Nicholas had sent her compensation and the offer to return to a position whenever she should require it.

The large monetary gift had induced Rose to retire to the country apparently and enjoy life with her mother. To Allegra’s delight, she’d already received two letters describing Rose’s new freedoms as an independent woman.

Free now of such worries, she reveled in her time with Nicholas.

They ate sumptuously, feeding each other the best morsels as they basked on cushions and blankets in almost every room of the house at various times of the day. They made love so many times she’d lost count. They read poetry and political treatises aloud. And they talked until neither had voices and could do nothing but communicate through the rapture that was their bodies.

During all this marvelous time together, they had visitors. Oh, not lords and ladies but more tradesmen than she’d ever met before. All of them had been sworn to secrecy on threat of ruination.

Nicholas claimed they were securing her armor.

She certainly felt as if she were being readied for battle.

The first visitors had been the drapers and she’d chosen more silks and velvets and muslin than she’d ever chosen in her life. Just as she’d been prepared to send the extremely happy fellow off as he pulled bolt after bolt of fabric for her to inspect from his trunks, Nicholas had grinned and said “more”.

It was veritably the only word he said.

Always before, she’d had to choose fabric with her mother and her mother’s taste had held sway. Now, she realized she could choose whatever she liked! And it was remarkable. She poured over fashion plates and newspaper articles about the latest fashions.

Clothes had never been terribly important to her, but she realized now it was because she’d had no choice. Now, clothes seemed to be a way in which she could declare her individuality and personality.

For the first time, she was able to choose a rainbow of jewel-colored fabrics. Striped rose silk, sapphire brocade, red velvet! My goodness, what couldn’t she choose?

And as soon as the draper had left her with samples, the actual dress makers arrived.

She chose all new styles with fashions that gave her the most freedom of movement she could be allowed. It was shocking, looking at some of the pictures. Some of the women appeared virtually naked.

While she wasn’t willing to traipse about with her nipples on display, she was delighted to choose the most scandalous frocks and lavishly free flowing skirts.

It was a revelation as the gowns quickly began to come together upon her person. It did, indeed, feel like almost being naked compared to what she’d been forced to wear just months ago.

And as soon as the gowns were in form, the haberdashers and milliners came and they were the most free flowing of discourse from the outside world.

They spoke of the fact that a rumor was circling the city that the duke had a visitor in the house. That said visitor was a princess or a foreign duchess at least! After all, parcel after parcel and tradesman after tradesman were appearing on the duke’s massive doorstep.

She chose every detail, every bow, every feather, every bead. When she’d first attempted to ask Nicholas what she should choose since she was aware that he had a particular appreciation of women and knowledge of fashionable women, he merely smiled, shook his head then poured her another glass of wine as she held court.

Without question, Allegra was empress of her own domain with an emperor who was happy to support all her choices.

It was difficult to grasp. Certainly, Nicholas had always surprised her in his desire to hear her ideas and see their merit. Why she should be surprised now, she didn’t know.

Possibly it was because she’d always assumed a man saw his wife as a jewel in his crown not a crown of her own.

Nicholas was setting her up to be not a supporting character but one which called all attention.

When the jewelers arrived, she hardly knew what to say. It was tempting to adorn herself like the firmament but she knew, without question, that to look bold, to be as flamboyant as she wished, she couldn’t be overtaken by her clothes.

While she adored the coronet of diamonds and emeralds and multitude of Roth jewels, she chose very carefully large, simple stones upon beautiful chains. Large rings that would sparkle on her fingers but not overwhelm.

As soon as the last sketch had been made and delivery had been promised, Nicholas sat down with her over a glass of chilled white wine.