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Authors: Virginia Henley

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BOOK: The Decadent Duke
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In a quiet spot, she dismounted and slowly made her way toward the edge of a saltwater pool. She pulled up her velvet skirts and knelt down so that she could sketch a green heron as it fished.
She caught her breath as it elongated its neck to catch a frog, then sighed with relief when it missed. In a heartbeat the heron caught a small fish instead, and tossed it so that it could swallow it lengthwise. She knew the bird had to hunt for food from dawn to dusk to sustain itself.
She sketched the heron quickly, catching the determined look in its beady yellow eye. She drew the fish in its beak and the tiny drops of saltwater that dripped from its tail. She even put in the frog as it frantically swam away.
Georgina was so engrossed in her drawing that she was startled when the heron took wing with a plaintive cry. She looked up, found Francis Russell at her side, and smiled her secret smile. Deep down inside she had expected him to seek her out.
He looked at her sketch. “You are an accomplished artist.”
“Why does that astonish you? Because I'm a debutante, fit for only flirting and fu . . . fumbling?”
Christ, she was about to say
fucking! “Mea culpa. You have hidden depths, Georgina.”
“You may address me as Lady Georgina.”
“A misnomer if I ever heard one,vhe drawled.
She held out her hand, and when he helped her to rise, she managed to display the entire length of her leather riding boots. “Oh, sorry, Francis, my hands are covered with charcoal. I've blackened you. Your hands now match your reputation,” she teased.
He bent and washed them off in the water, then took his handkerchief, wet it, and cleansed her hands. He took a step closer and traced a finger down the black feather that curled beneath her chin.
“If you don't think
lady
is suitable, what do you suggest?”
“Cocktease.”
Georgina gasped and raised her arm to slap his insolent face.
The duke caught her hand, forced it behind her back, and pulled her against him for a kiss.
She laughed in his face. “I've never heard that word before, though I know it is lewd in the extreme. But you are right. I was teasing you. Unmercifully.”
He released her immediately, knowing that she was laughing at him.
You flirted, and like a besotted fool, I fumbled. Just as you expected me to do. Just as you lured me to do. But in truth, I couldn't help myself. You are a bloody irresistible piece of female flesh.
 
At dinner, Susan seated the Duke of Bedford next to Georgina. Through the first three courses, Francis found it difficult to keep his hands from straying. Used to giving in to his impulses, especially where women were concerned, and knowing full well that the lady was not likely to cause a scene involving the guest of honor, he finally succumbed to temptation and surreptitiously stroked his fingers along the thigh that was so close to his own.
Georgina smiled sweetly at her dinner partner and, under cover of her linen napkin, jabbed her dessert fork into his hand.
Francis turned his cry of pain into a bark of laughter, ostensibly at some amusing remark Huntly made.
“Stab me! That was witty, George.” Georgina laughed merrily. “I think a sense of humor is a very seductive quality in a man.”
The Duchess of Gordon bestowed a fatuous look of approval upon her youngest daughter. “My husband, Alexander, has rather a dour, Scottish sense of humor. He thoroughly disapproves of fun and frolic. Fortunately, my daughters take after their mother.”
Georgina rolled her eyes at Francis, and this time his laugh was genuine. She joined in. “I shall be generous and forgive you your trespasses.”
In a pig's eye!
 
After dinner, the company moved to the gaming room, where everyone except Georgina chose Scotch whiskey to drink. “I much prefer champagne,vshe informed Francis.
“I shall remember when you come to Woburn.”
“Shall I be coming to Woburn?”
“Indeed you shall.”
“I advised William to set up a table for lanterloo,” Jane Gordon informed their guest. “I know you are expert at it.”
“I much prefer faro,” Georgina interjected. “Surely you will indulge me, Francis?” She pretended not to see the glare of disapproval her mother directed her way. “Since you are the player most likely to put up the largest stake, you can be the permanent banker, Your Grace.”
Francis bowed to the company. “If all are in agreement?”
“Oh, we always indulge Georgy's whims,”Susan informed him.
“I adore being a pampered pet,” Georgina murmured wickedly.
They all sat around one large gaming table, and when William laid out the complete spade suit, Georgina decided to be contrary once more. “I don't like spades. Let's use hearts'”—she glanced at Francis—“or perhaps diamonds? I can never decide which I like better. I'll let the banker decide.”
“I think diamonds would suit you best.”
Though it sounded like a compliment, she knew it was a sly jab because she'd told him it was the
manse
rather than the
man
that attracted her.
If he's hinting that I can have the house if I'll take him as spouse, I'm not even tempted.
They played for two hours, and when she ran out of chips, she played for favors. “I know a gentleman would never collect gambling debts from a lady,” she said without conviction. She ran the tip of her tongue around the rim of her champagne glass. “I've had enough wine, and more than enough cards. Now that Kimbolton's galleries are shrouded in shadow, I shall go and seek the shade of Queen Katherine.”
“Oh, darling, it's frightening up there,” her mother warned. “You need an escort with a strong sword arm to protect you.”
“Would you do the honors, Your Grace?” Georgina asked with a straight face.
Up in the darkened, eerie galleries, she made a game out of being elusive. Bedford was persistent in his pursuit. “You always manage to track me down like a hound with the scent of his prey.”
His arms went around her, and he pulled her against his body so she could feel his hard erection. “See what you do to me?”
“Is that the result of
any
female scent, or one in particular?”
“It's not just your fragrance that entrances me, vixen, it's your essence. You are an exciting female, and you are well aware of it.” He captured her lips, and halfway through the kiss he intruded his tongue into her mouth.
“I thought a gentleman never collected gambling debts from a lady,” she teased.
“I'm not a gentleman.”
She pulled away, laughing. “So your brother informed me.”
“That isn't the first time you've mentioned my brother.”
“We are like flint and tinder. He rubs me the wrong way.”
Francis promptly rubbed his erection against her mons. She pulled away. “There's no need to cock your weapon—the ghost isn't here tonight. Shall we return to the party?” She adroitly escaped his advances, knowing he would follow wherever she led.
Sometime later the ladies went upstairs and left the men to their whiskey and cigars.
Jane kissed her daughters' cheeks. “Susan, you have done an outstanding job of providing this golden opportunity for Georgy.” She squeezed her youngest daughter's hand. “And I am over the moon that you are making the most of it. Good night, girls.”
Ten minutes later, Georgina entered her sister Susan's chamber. She sat down on the bed, opened the book she was carrying, and began to read a speech by the Duchess of Belgrave.
“The town must be carried by storm. While such cold calculators as the Duchess of Drinkwater, with all the frigid economy of her native north, are collecting a little money and a few forces to meet us, reckoning upon our weakness, we must by a display of unbounded magnificence, taste, and expense, at once overwhelm their puny preparations and strike a blow that shall palsy every effort of our rivals for the remainder of the Season . . . I am decidedly for a grand masked gala.''
The two sisters were helpless with laughter, with tears of mirth streaming down their cheeks, when William opened the bedchamber door.
“What's so funny, m'dear?''
“Men!” they replied in unison, and went off into another peel of uncontrollable laughter.
Chapter 17
“Mr. Burke, I had the idea to take my sons into the woods and select a Christmas tree for Woburn's great hall. But if Francis enjoys doing this himself, we will wait until he returns.”
“His Grace never takes part in choosing a tree or putting up the Yule decorations. He leaves it to his staff and me. Since I decided we'd do that today, our plans mesh perfectly, my lord.”
“Do call me John, Mr. Burke. I'll tell the boys. I suppose you take a wagon and a couple of strong footmen to carry the tree back to the hall?”
“We take two wagons, one for the tree, and one for the holly, ivy, and mistletoe that the housemaids gather. The woods at the northern edge of Woburn land have the best selection.”
When John and his sons were saddled up, they led the way north, ahead of the wagons. “I'm glad it snowed last night. The drifts make the landscape beautiful.”
“Can we help chop the tree down?” William asked.
“Yes, we'll all have a go. Mr. Burke put more than one ax in the wagons.”
They'd been riding almost an hour when they came on a stand of tall firs. John turned to look at Mr. Burke for his nod of approval. But Burke shook his head and motioned for them to ride farther north. “I hope you're not feeling the cold, Johnny?”
“No, Father. I'm enjoying the ride. I've seen lots of hares, and Will and I spotted a pair of deer.”
They rode on for a couple of miles and finally came to a wooded area that boasted some magnificent, tall conifer pine trees among the larches. The riders dismounted, and the wagons drew rein and stopped. “You fellows choose the Yule tree,” John directed.
“I think Francis and William should choose. I won't be here for Christmas,” Johnny pointed out. The maids jumped from their wagon and went deeper into the woods, where the ivy and mistletoe climbed up the tree trunks.
“I won't be much good with an ax, so I think I'll help cut the ivy and gather some pinecones,” Johnny decided.
First Francis then William took their turns with the axes, once their father had cut a notch in the trunk of the conifer. They gave it all they had, but managed to cut only about halfway through the sturdy trunk before they gave up and handed an ax to their father.
John took off his coat and got down to business. “You did the hard part. This shouldn't take long.” There was a crack like a gunshot in the frosty air, and the boys shouted, “Timber!”
As the tree started to fall, John saw a team of horses pulling a sleigh. The tree crashed down within feet of the vehicle, and the horses screamed and reared in fright. It took a deal of skill by the sleigh driver to bring the animals under control.
John recognized his brother holding the reins of the shuddering horses, while a white-faced Lady Georgina Gordon sat beside him clutching the side of the sleigh. John was furious that Francis had put Georgina in danger. “That was a damn fool thing to do. You could have been killed!” He embedded the ax into the tree stump, strode to the horses, and gentled them.
Francis pretended nonchalance in front of his lady fair. “That would make you the new Duke of Bedford. The
ton
would never believe it was an accident, old man.”
John was not amused. “Are you all right, Lady Georgina?”
“Yes, thank you. So few noblemen cut down their own Christmas trees, I could have sworn we had stumbled across my father.”
Francis laughed at his brother. “What a pity, old man, that you come across as a father figure.”
Georgina arched her brow at her companion. “Could
you
fell a twenty-foot tree with an ax, Your Grace?”
“I have servants to do that for me, my dearest lady.”
“That's a pity, Francis.” She made a moue with her lips.
“When you do that, I don't know if you are going to kiss me or spit on me,” he drawled.
“I guarantee it won't be the former,” she replied saucily.
It was John's turn to laugh at his brother. Yet his laughter masked his real feelings. He saw the way they looked at each other, heard their teasing banter, and felt his gut knot.
Johnny emerged from the trees. “I heard the horses scream—what happened? Oh, it's Georgy and Uncle Francis. You are having a sleigh ride . . . what jolly good fun!”
“Hello, Johnny. Would you like to have a ride?” She pretended not to see her companion's frown.
Johnny glanced at his father. “I . . . I wouldn't dream of intruding on your privacy, Lady Georgina.V
“Nonsense!” She flicked a glance at his father's disapproving face. “I insist. You can come for a ride while they haul the Christmas tree into the wagon. Come and sit here between us.”
“If you sit closer to me,” Francis suggested, “Johnny can sit on the outside, where his view won't be impeded.”
Georgina thwarted his suggestion. “I want him to sit next to you, Francis, so you can turn the reins over to him for part of the ride.” She raised her hand in expectation of John Russell helping her from the sleigh so Johnny could get in the middle.
John took hold of her proffered hand and squeezed hard. Not so hard that it was painful, but hard enough to let her know that he was on to her tricks.
Georgina smiled her secret smile and knew that John saw her wicked self-satisfaction at being able to entice his brother to do her bidding. It amused her that they could silently communicate. After Johnny climbed aboard, she jumped in and the horses plunged forward.
BOOK: The Decadent Duke
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