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Authors: Lorraine Heath

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BOOK: An Invitation to Seduction
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As Richard escorted her out of the church, it dawned on Kitty that she was married, and she wondered if she was obligated to uphold vows she could barely remember
speaking. As they went down the steps, into the sunshine, she glanced around the waiting crowds who were cheering and applauding. So many people. Anyone could hide within them.

Richard helped her into the carriage, then joined her. Only this time, instead of sitting opposite her as he’d always done in the past, he sat beside her.

“What about my parents and Emily?” she asked.

“They’ll follow in another carriage. Smile, Duchess, and wave. You’re as close to being royalty as many of these people will ever see.”

She did as he commanded, smiling and waving, remembering her promise never to let anyone know that by his side wasn’t where she wanted to be. The carriage started off, and she couldn’t have been more grateful. She would have a few hours at her parents’ home, then she and Richard would return to his London residence. She didn’t want to contemplate what would happen then.

“What did you mean in the church when you said you saw Farthingham?” he asked quietly, once the crowds had dissipated and no further need for smiling or waving existed.

Suddenly feeling silly, she shook her head. “I thought I saw him.”

“Where?”

“In the crowds, outside the church. There were so many people. I looked around as I was getting ready to get out of the carriage, and I thought I saw him.”

“You do realize that you can’t have seen him.”

“I know. I simply thought…what if he survived?”

“He didn’t.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“I was there.”

She studied his face. “Did you actually see him drown?”

He averted his eyes, seeming to take interest in the shops they passed. “Kitty, he’s gone.” He turned his attention back to her. “If he were alive, if you’d truly seen him in front of the church, do you not think that he would have rushed inside and put a halt to the ceremony? Do you not think that he would have claimed you for himself?”

“Yes, yes, of course, you’re right.” She lowered her gaze to the ring he’d placed on her finger during the ceremony. Another perfect fit, as though it had been designed specifically for her. “Unless he thought we betrayed him.”

He released a deep sigh that was rife with frustration. “And why would he think that?”

“You took him sailing when the sky promised a storm—”

“It was his idea to take the boat out.”

“Was it?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“But if he survived, if he were badly wounded and it took him a while to recover, and when he did, he saw our announcement so soon after his supposed drowning—”

He cut her off by cupping her cheek with his gloved hand and pressing his thumb against her lips. “I think you’ve been reading too many of Montague’s plays.”

She smiled at that, actually truly smiled. She released a tiny laugh. “You’re right. You’re so right. That was one of Freddie’s plays. I remember now. What was it called?”


A Sea Change.

“That’s right. Have you read it?”

“Yes.”

“A woman’s lover tried to drown her husband—”

“But the husband survived and killed the lover,” he finished quickly. “I was not overly impressed with it.”

“I thought it was rather good.”

“Perhaps it is, if it has you seeing ghosts.”

“You’re right. I actually read some of it last night when I couldn’t sleep. It must have been on my mind. I found the man I thought was Nicky, but he didn’t look anything like him when I got near enough to see him clearly.”

“I’m glad that matter’s settled satisfactorily. Now tell me why you couldn’t sleep? Anticipation of the day?”

“More like dread.” She regretted the words as soon as she’d spoken them. “I apologize.”

“No need. I prefer complete honesty when it is only you and I. I have a feeling there will be enough playacting the remainder of the time. Besides, I dreaded it as well.”

“Why?”

“I feared you’d change your mind. That I would stand there like a fool, waiting for a woman who had no intention of arriving.”

She found that she didn’t much like the idea of him being a fool. “How long would you have waited?”

“Until I was old and gray.” He cupped her face once again and lowered his mouth to hers for only a heartbeat as the carriage drew to a halt. “We’re here. This shall no doubt be the most unpleasant part of the afternoon, pretending for a time that you’re in love with me.”

His words hit her hard. He’d done all he could to make this day as pleasant as possible, and she was grateful. She placed her hand on his arm. “I won’t be pretending that I’m honored to be your wife.”

He gave her a warm smile. “Thank you for that.”

She could do little more than return his smile and wonder if perhaps the pretense was actually that she
didn’t
love him.

I
t was dark by the time they left the afternoon tea her parents had arranged at their home. This time Richard had a closed coach waiting to whisk them away. Kitty leaned out the window, waving good-bye until she could no longer see her family. Then she settled back into the coach, so tired she barely had the strength to notice that Richard sat beside her.

“Tired?” he asked quietly.

She laughed wearily. “Exhausted.”

“We’ll be home soon.”

She squinted through the darkness at him. “Will your mother and Lady Anne be joining us there?”

“No. They’ve taken up residence at the dower house.”

She nodded, not certain what else she should do. The Dowager Duchess had told her that she would move into the other residence. Kitty had hoped it wouldn’t be immediately, but a day or two after the wedding, after she’d grown accustomed to her new status. Although she feared that she might never become accustomed to it.

“It only now occurred to me that I’ve seen very little of your London residence.”

He took her hand, his thumb circling the rings on her finger. Rings he’d placed there. “Everything happened quite quickly for us, but I shall make you happy.”

“I’ll try to do the same for you.”

“I ask no more than that.”

The coach came to a halt before a grand house, and Kitty’s first impression of her new home was that she hoped the staff was efficient. The coach door was immediately opened, and a gloved hand appeared inside the doorway. She slipped her hand into the waiting footman’s and stepped out of the coach. She didn’t know why she was suddenly more nervous than she’d been all day, why the reality of all that had transpired was coming home to roost.

“Are you ready?” Richard asked.

Taking a deep breath, she placed her hand on his waiting arm. They walked up the sweeping steps. Another footman opened the massive door, and Kitty found herself halfway hoping that she’d find Lady Anne waiting inside as she had the night they’d gone to the opera.

But the only one waiting was the butler. “I’ve called for the servants, Your Grace,” he said immediately.

“Thank you, Watkins,” Richard said.

The butler turned and as if by magic, servants began appearing, of all ages, shapes, and sizes. A considerable number, many more than her parents had ever used. My goodness, she’d been taught to manage a large household, but she thought it highly unlikely she’d remember everyone’s name—

“You need not concern yourself with remembering everyone’s name,” Richard said.

She peered up at him. “You must have been reading my mind.”

“Your eyes seemed to be growing as they came out. Mother and Anne have taken their lady’s maids with them. Yours should be arriving here at any moment with her things.”

She felt as though her eyes really widened then. “You mean Nancy?”

“If that’s her name. I arranged her transfer to my household staff as part of the settlement. I thought you might be more comfortable if I weren’t the only person you knew in the house.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re most welcome. Allow me to introduce you to those who will be of the most service to you. They in turn will introduce the others to you over time as needed.”

“I’m acquainted with how it all works. Americans aren’t totally barbaric.”

He grinned. “That surprises me, since your wildness was the very reason I married you.”

She looked away, embarrassed to remember the reason he had married her, a result of the night when she’d behaved as anything except a lady.

“Duchess, may I present Watkins. He has been in our employ for many years.”

“Watkins,” she said with as much dignity as she could muster.

“Your Grace.” He had a kind smile.

“Our cook, Mrs. Butler,” Richard said.

“Mrs. Butler.” Mrs. Butler looked as though she sampled generously of her own cooking, which Kitty took as a good sign. “I look forward to going over menus with you in the morning.”

Mrs. Butler curtsied. “Thank you, Your Grace.”

“The head housekeeper, Rose.”

Rose’s cheeks blushed to the color of her name. Kitty
didn’t think the woman seemed old enough to be in charge.

“Rose.”

“Your Grace.” She curtsied.

“It appears you manage an excellent household.”

The woman’s cheeks burned into a reddish hue. “Thank you, madam.”

“You’re most welcome.”

Richard then introduced her to the remainder of the staff with little more than a grand sweeping of his hand, after which a round of curtsies, bows, and “Your Graces” followed.

“I look forward to getting to know each of you,” Kitty said.

“All right now, back to your duties,” Watkins ordered, and everyone scurried away as though they’d never been there.

“Was the package delivered?” Richard asked.

“Yes, sir. I had it readied as per your instructions and placed it in your library. I assigned the underfootman the task of keeping watch over it.”

“Thank you, Watkins. My duchess and I will retire to the library for a while. Send word when her lady’s maid has arrived and settled in.”

“Yes, sir. Will there be anything else?”

“No, thank you.”

Richard turned to her and extended his arm. “I thought we might relax in the library for a bit.”

Now
he asked, after already indicating that they’d do exactly that. “By all means, lead the way.”

He escorted her past several rooms, pointed out various items, and explained their history in relation to his family. She was too tired to take notice of much of what he said. He led her into the library with its walls and
walls of books, and the musty smell that she so loved next to the scent of the sea.

“Hello, Henry,” Richard said.

“Evenin’, Your Grace.”

“Kitty, this is Henry. He serves as underfootman and keeps all the boots and shoes polished to a shine.”

“Hello, Henry,” she said, charmed by the smile that the boy bestowed on her. She didn’t think he could have been much older than twelve. “I must confess that I’ve always been quite impressed with the shine on the duke’s shoes. I can almost see my face in them when I glance down.”

The boy’s smile brightened, and he puffed out his chest. “That’s ’cuz I’ve got good spit, and I ain’t stingy with it.”

Striving to bite back her laughter, she darted a look at Richard and saw him fighting to hold back his own. She thought this might have been the most relaxed moment of the evening. “That’s very commendable, Henry.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.”

Kitty became aware of a whining, a thumping.

“Have you been keeping careful watch over my wife’s gift?” Richard asked.

“Yes, sir. Been keeping it under the desk so’s it wouldn’t be seen ’til you was ready.”

“I suppose now is as good a time as any.” He indicated a chair. “If you’ll sit, we’ll retrieve your gift.”

She hardly knew what to say. “You don’t need to give me—”

“I want to.”

She took a seat, watched the eagerness with which he and the boy went round behind the desk. Her husband was almost a child himself. He lifted a box that didn’t have a lid. The thumping and whining increased, and her
stomach began to knot. She’d never had a fondness for dogs, not since she was a child and one had snapped in her face. Cats. She loved cats. Kittens. She adored kittens.
Please, don’t give me a dog.

But he did. With expectation clearly written on his face, he set the box before her and crouched beside it. Leaning over slightly, she peered into the box.

A dog. A tiny dog. A puppy she supposed. With a reddish brown coat and a huge green ribbon tied around its neck.

“It’s a spaniel,” he told her.

“Yes, I can see that.”

“I thought it might make you less lonely. I spend a good deal of time dealing with business interests and the estates. I haven’t the time to play as…” His voice trailed off.

“As Farthingham did.”

“Yes.”

“You can hold ’er,” Henry said, as he reached into the box, lifted the dog out—

“No, no,” Kitty said, jumping to her feet, skirting quickly around the box.

Both man and boy stared at her as though she were insane.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m simply not fond of dogs.”

Henry looked at her as though she’d kicked the puppy. “How can you not like dogs?”

“Henry,” Richard chastised sternly, “it’s not your place to question the duchess.”

“Sorry,” Henry said, looking truly contrite.

“Why don’t you let the dog sleep with you tonight?” Richard suggested.

“You gonna keep ’er, sir?”

“Of course. I like dogs. We’ll dispense with the ribbon, though, I think.”

Henry grinned at that. “She’ll be right glad, sir.”

“I’m sure she will. Off with you now.”

Cradling the dog as though she were a baby, the boy walked out of the room.

“I really am sorry,” she told Richard.

“As am I. Your mother mentioned your fondness for cats. Unfortunately, I failed to take into account that you might not like dogs. And I should have taken it into account considering that I’m not overly fond of cats. But I shall see about getting you some.”

“No, Richard, I don’t need cats. I haven’t played with them in a long while, and in a few months I’ll be too busy to be lonely.”

“Yes, of course you will. Would you like me to pour you some wine? I have a good vintage.”

“No, I’m really too tired.”

“It has been a long day.” He looked past her. “Yes, Watkins?”

“The duchess’s lady’s maid has arrived, Your Grace. I sent her on up to Her Grace’s bedchamber.”

“Thank you, Watkins.”

Watkins quickly retreated, and Richard extended his arm toward her. “I shall escort you to your chambers.”

“There’s really no need.”

“As you wish.”

“Good night then.” Grateful for his acquiescence, looking forward to some time alone, she rushed toward the door and suddenly stopped.

“Discovered there was a need, did you?” he asked, and she could have sworn she heard humor laced through his voice.

Without turning around, feeling like a complete idiot, she merely nodded. He came up beside her and extended his arm. She peered up at him and found him smiling kindly. “I’m accustomed to independence,” she stated.

“I’ve no wish to deprive you of it.”

“But all the legalities of marriage do deprive a woman of her freedom.”

“They shan’t within our marriage.”

He walked out of the library and along a hallway until they reached the hallway entrance. He turned toward the stairs that curved up toward the next floor and led her up them. “If you have such an unfavorable view of marriage, why did you consent to marry Farthingham?”

“I liked him.”

He raised a brow. “Liked. I thought you loved him.”

“I did. But I also liked him.”

“You
did
? So you no longer love him?”

She suddenly felt trapped. “I still do. Yes. I always will.”

“I don’t wish for him to be between us tonight.” It was a softly purred command issued as he stopped beside a door.

“I can’t simply exorcise him from my heart as though he never existed.”

“Then you leave me no choice except to exorcise him for you.”

His mouth came down on hers with fierce determination. All the civilized rituals and traditions of the day were flung to perdition, as though they were merely window dressing designed to disguise the true nature of what lay within. Some corner of her mind urged her to resist the invasion of his tongue, his taste, his moist heat. Not to welcome the desire that curled through her as she met his tongue and wrapped her arms around him, pressing herself against him.

With his hands still gloved, he plowed his fingers through her neatly coiffed hair, bracketing her head, angling her mouth, settling his more solidly into place. She was vaguely aware of pins escaping her hair and clinking
on to the floor, more aware of his harsh breathing, the intensifying of his kiss as though he sought to consume her.

Her hair tumbled around her shoulders, along her back, as his guttural groan of triumph echoed along the hallway. He was winning this match so easily, conquering, and achieving exactly what he’d claimed he would.

He tore his mouth from hers. Opening her eyes, she saw the barely leashed desire in his. “I shall join you shortly to say good night.”

Still striving to regain her wits, she merely nodded. He spun on his heel and headed back down the stairs.

She opened the door and strolled into the bedchamber. Nancy came up out of the chair in which she’d been sitting.

“Ah, Your Grace. Are you ready for me to help prepare you for your wedding night?”

Perhaps it was her unfamiliar surroundings, the sight of Nancy—a warm smile on her familiar face, the realization that it would take little for Richard to carry through on his promise to exorcise Nicky from her heart, or the fact that she understood he intended to return and do a great deal more than say good night. Or perhaps it was simply the little puppy with the big almond eyes that she’d been unable to welcome into her arms. Or the long day, the longer night to come.

Whatever the reason, she burst into tears.

 

Within the library, Richard poured himself a generous amount of bourbon and finished half of it before he took his chair in front of the fireplace where no fire burned, no heat emanated. He should have taken her to Drummond Manor, where they would have had access to the bathing house and the sea. He shouldn’t have given her a dog. He should have found her a cat, even though he held no affection for the furry little beasts.

Dogs were loyal to their master or mistress. As far as he could determine, cats were only loyal to themselves.

He took another long swallow, released a deep sigh, dropped his head back against the chair, and closed his eyes. The problem wasn’t the dog. It was Farthingham. The manner in which she held on to his memory. Blast it all. The man had been with them at the church, while they were exchanging vows.

By God, he’d not have the man in his bed.

He released another sigh.

Loyalty and love.

He feared he might one day have to choose one over the over. And what then? Could he live with betrayal on his conscience?

BOOK: An Invitation to Seduction
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