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Authors: Jennifer McNare

BOOK: To Capture a Duke's Heart
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Noting the change in her breathing and spurred by the restless movements of her hips, Gabriel withdrew his hand and rolled above her.  “Ready, love,” he murmured as he positioned himself at her moist entrance and then surged forward in one smooth, powerful thrust.

Penny felt the weight of his large, warm body settle upon her a mere instant before a sharp, stabbing pain effectively penetrated the pleasurable haze that had engulfed her just seconds before.  Gasping, she inhaled a shocked breath as she strained to open her eyes and push him away, her hands fluttering uselessly at her sides as she struggled to wake.  It proved a fruitless endeavor, however, as neither her weighted lids nor her heavy arms obeyed her mind’s silent commands.

Surprisingly, however, as her body adjusted to the long, rigid shaft that impaled her, the pain slowly began to fade and she settled beneath him, her muscles gradually relaxing.  And then, as the thick, hot shaft continued to press forward and then withdraw in a steadily-increasing tempo, the pain was forgotten entirely as it gave way completely to a renewed sense of pleasure.  Before long Penny’s body was moving instinctively beneath his, her hips arching upward to meet his thrusts, welcoming the invasion as the dream took on a new and previously inconceivable dimension. 

As Gabriel moved in and out of the exquisitely tight sheath that enveloped him, he groaned in satisfaction.  “Yes, just like that,” he murmured in approval as he buried himself to the hilt within her silken depths, withdrawing then plunging forward again and again until at last he expelled his seed into her luscious body in one powerful, explosive burst and collapsed on top of her, completely and utterly spent.  A short while later, once he’d regained the ability to move his languid limbs, he pressed his lips against the skin of her throat and then rolled onto his side.  Within seconds his breathing was slow and steady once again.

Penny whimpered faintly in protest as the extraordinary dream came to an abrupt end and made one last attempt to open her eyes.  The effort proved futile, however, and despite her resistance her head lolled to the side a moment later, her cheek falling softly onto the pillow as the overpowering darkness claimed her once more.

Chapter 8

The sound of voices outside his door steadily increasing in both volume and number vaguely penetrated Gabriel’s subconscious as he struggled to ascend from the sleepy haze that enveloped him like a thick, heavy blanket.  What the devil was all the commotion about, he wondered in consternation as awareness slowly dawned and the noise level continued to escalate.  He blinked once, twice and then forced his eyes open, struggling for a moment to focus his bleary gaze. 

He was lying on his stomach, his head turned toward the door and to the din coming from the hall, noting that his chamber was still shrouded in darkness. “Bollocks!” he muttered, for surely it was too early to be roused from his peaceful slumber and so discourteously at that.  Breathing an irritated sigh, he tugged the pillow from beneath his cheek and plopped it atop his head.  Unfortunately, however, it did little to quiet the noise or to diminish the steadily growing ache within his skull. 

“Go away,” he grumbled when a knock sounded on his door several moments later. 

When a second knock followed a few seconds later, he groaned in aggravation.  “What is it?” he called, his head still buried beneath the pillow.

“Sorry to wake you, brother,” Michael stated as he entered the room, “but the sun has been up for quite some time now and we do have a wedding to attend if you’ll recall.”  Striding across the darkened room, he headed toward the thin sliver of light peeking through the heavy velvet draperies.  “And by the by, Rafe and I encountered Lady Beckford in the hall just moments ago and it seems that there may be a bit of a situation developing, though I doubt it’s anything to be overly concerned about.” 

“What kind of situation?” Gabriel mumbled.

“It’s Lady Penelope,” Michael replied as he parted the drapes, flooding the room with sunlight.  “For some reason the countess seems to think that the girl has gone-” Turning from the window the remainder of the sentence lodged in his throat.

Gabriel waited for his brother to continue but there was only silence.  “Gone what?” he finally prompted.

“Missing,” Michael breathed, his incredulous gaze riveted upon the woman who lay sleeping at his brother’s side. 

Gabriel reached up and dragged the pillow from his head, dropping it onto the floor.  “Did you say
missing
?”

Michael tore his eyes from Penelope Houghton, gaping at his brother in disbelief.  “Good lord, Gabe, have you lost your bloody mind?” he hissed.

“Excuse me?” Gabriel replied, rolling onto his back.  Blinking, he raised his hand, shielding his eyes against the sun’s glare. “Just
what
the devil is that supposed-” The words died suddenly upon his lips as he caught sight of the woman lying next to him in the very same instant.  She was on her stomach, her head facing the opposite direction, but the tangle of auburn curls cascading down her back was unmistakable. 
What the hell?
He dropped his hand and bolted upright, the bedsheet falling to his waist as his brain struggled to comprehend what he was seeing.

He had little time to make sense of the situation however, as the sudden rattle of the door handle had both his and Michael’s heads swiveling toward the door in apprehension.  Much to his relief, however, it was only Rafael who strode across the threshold a second later.

“Well?  Have you managed to roust the slugabed from his sleep yet, Michael?” Rafael inquired flippantly, pushing the door shut behind him with the heel of his boot.

When Michael failed to respond, offering his brother naught but an awkward, soundless parting of his lips, Rafael turned his questioning gaze to the bed.  “Ah,” he said, his eyebrows shooting upward as a raffish grin curled his lips.  “So that’s what’s keeping him abed this morning,” he continued as he eyed his brother’s bed partner.  “Wait,” he cocked his head curiously then, “that isn’t…” he trailed off, his eyes narrowing for a moment and then going wide in astonishment.  “Good God, Gabe! Are you mad?”

Rafael’s voice echoed within the room, causing Penelope to stir at Gabriel’s side.

All three brothers immediately focused their anxious gazes upon her as she uttered a breathy sigh and rolled over, turning onto her back.  Her eyes, however, remained closed.

Gabriel shook his head, causing him to wince as the throbbing between his temples intensified.  He raised his hand, pressing it against his forehead as he glanced between his brothers.  “I have no idea how she got here.  I swear.”

Rafael regarded him uncertainly for a moment and then shifted his gaze to the nightstand, focusing intently upon the empty brandy decanter.

Gabriel turned his head, following his brother’s pointed stare.  To his surprise, only a tiny amount of liquor remained in the bottom of the container. 
Damn
, had he drunk the entire bottle, he wondered in startled disbelief, for it wasn’t like him to drink to excess. He thought back, trying to recall the number of glasses he’d consumed before settling into bed, but his memory was hazy at best.  Well, if he
had
consumed the entire bottle it would certainly explain the present pounding in his head, he reasoned.  But did it also explain Penelope Houghton’s presence in his bed?  He considered the notion and then promptly dismissed it. 
No!  Absolutely not!
  Foxed or not, he hadn’t left his room after retiring for the evening and hadn’t awakened during the night, he was sure of it. 

She could have snuck into his room after he’d fallen asleep, he supposed.  It had happened before, a woman sneaking into his room for a late night tryst, and more than once actually.  But each of
those
women, for the most part anyhow, had been invited.  This was a different situation entirely.  Penelope Houghton sure as hell hadn’t been invited; and even if she had been brazen enough to seek out his bed of her own volition, he
would
have sent her away, whether he’d wanted to or not. Of that he hadn’t the slightest of doubts, for even if he had been completely soused he never would have done something so utterly stupid and reckless as to bed the Earl of Beckford’s young, unmarried daughter, especially with the man sleeping just two doors down the hall.  “No,” he said simply, his expression stalwart as he turned his gaze from the empty decanter back to Rafael.  There had to be another explanation.

“You’re certain?”

Gabriel eyed him steadily.  “You’ve seen me foxed.  Both of you have,” he said evenly, glancing between him and Michael.  “Have I
ever
taken leave of my senses entirely?” 

Both Michael and Rafael shook their heads without hesitation.

“Hand me my trousers,” he said to Rafael then, motioning to the upholstered bench where he’d deposited his clothing the night before. 

His brother did as requested, retrieving the breeches and then tossing them to Gabriel as he rose naked from the bed.

Tugging on his pants, Gabriel frowned, shifting his gaze back to the bed.  If he
had
consumed an entire bottle of brandy it
would
explain why he hadn’t noted her presence in his bed, he supposed.  “She must have slipped into the room while I slept,” he said, keeping his voice low.

Rafael’s brow furrowed.  “Even so, if she didn’t wake you then what is she still doing here?”

Gabriel clenched his jaw, his features growing taut as he met his brother’s gaze.

Rafael’s expression was incredulous.  “You don’t think…?

“Can you think of another reason?” he demanded, his mood growing darker by the second.

Rafael splayed his hands uncertainly at his sides.

“Regardless of how it happened, we’ve got to get her out of here,” Michael quickly interjected. 

“And
how
exactly do you propose we do that?” Rafael retorted with a dubious shake of his head.  “Beckford and his wife are likely searching the halls for her as we speak.”

“True,” Michael acknowledged with a doleful expression. “It will be no easy task, for even if we
could
manage to avoid Lord and Lady Beckford, the halls are crawling with servants.  Someone’s bound to see her exiting Gabe’s chamber,” he continued bleakly.

“Moreover, if she
did
plan this,” Rafael added, casting a sidelong glance toward Penelope, “she’s not likely to go quietly.”

“Well we need to do
something
,” Michael asserted in an anxious whisper, “and we need to do it with all haste.”

“Bloody hell!” Gabriel swore under his breath, his hands curling into fists at his sides.

Michael and Rafael stood silently then, their troubled faces mirroring one another’s as they looked to Gabriel for direction.

“What of the other guests?” Gabriel queried.  “Are they aware of the situation?”

“I’m not sure,” Michael responded uncertainly.  “I think most of them have already gone down to breakfast.”

Looking to the bed, Gabriel studied the young woman lying amongst the tangled bedsheets for several long seconds, silently cursing himself for a fool.  “Michael,” he said finally, turning back to his brothers with a long, heavy sigh of resignation, “go and find the earl.”

Michael’s eyebrows shot upward. 

“Gabe!” Rafael exclaimed.

Gabriel raised his hand, forestalling further comment.  “Fetch him, Michael.”

His brother eyed him solemnly.  “What do you want me to tell him?”

“Don’t tell him anything other than that I wish to speak with him,” Gabriel instructed.  Michael hesitated, glancing to Rafael and then back to Gabriel before responding with a dispirited nod.  “As you wish,” he said after a moment, his expression reconciled.

As Michael left the room, Rafael retrieved Gabriel’s discarded shirt from the night before and handed it to him.  “Are you sure about this, Gabe?”

Taking the shirt, Gabriel slipped his arms into the sleeves and then reached to fasten the pearl buttons.  “I’ve known Beckford a long time.  If I explain the situation to him… if he can be convinced that I am blameless in this…” he motioned ineffectually toward the bed.  “Perhaps he’ll see reason.”

“You don’t honestly believe that, do you?” Rafael scoffed, his expression dubious.

Though he didn’t respond, silently working the buttons of his shirt, Gabriel understood all too well that the odds were
not
in his favor. 

 

 

“Perhaps Lady Beckford it would be best if you were to wait in your chamber while the earl speaks with my brother,” Michael suggested, glancing anxiously between the couple as they neared Gabriel’s door.

While the earl nodded in agreement, the countess balked.  “I most certainly will not,” she stated with an indignant expression.

“Lord Michael is correct,” the earl replied, turning to his wife.  “I think it would be best if you waited in our room whilst I find out exactly what it is that the duke wishes to speak with me about.”

The countess shook her head, her expression obstinate.  “If this concerns Penelope, then I-”

Beckford raised his hand, effectively silencing his wife with a stern, quelling look.

For a moment it appeared as if the countess intended to argue the point.  However, gazing upon her husband’s firm, unyielding countenance, she apparently thought better of it.  “As you wish, my lord,” she replied, though her clipped tone was a clear indication of her considerable displeasure.  Then, with a last lingering glance at the duke’s door, she pursed her lips, turned and walked stiffly back to the room she and her husband had been assigned.

Waiting until the countess had entered her chamber and the heavy, wooden portal had shut firmly behind her, Michael knocked lightly upon his brother’s door.

Rafael opened it a second later and then moved to the side, allowing Michael and the earl to enter as Gabriel stepped forward, effectively blocking the earl’s view of the bed.

“Beckford,” Gabriel greeted unsmilingly. 

The earl eyed him warily.  “Your brother said you wished to speak with me?”

“Yes, I’m afraid that I do.”

Beckford cast a brief, uncertain glance between Rafael and Michael.  “What is this about, Ainsworth?” he demanded, returning his focus to Gabriel.

“Michael, Rafael, would you leave us please,” Gabriel instructed.  “I would like to speak with the earl privately.”

Michael hesitated, and then asked, “Are you certain that’s wise?”

Gabriel nodded; and a moment later his brothers walked silently from the room, pulling the door closed behind them.

Once they were alone, the earl pinned him with a sharp, penetrating gaze. “Well?”

“You and I have known each other a long time, Beckford, have we not?” Gabriel began, regarding the earl earnestly.

“We have,” he agreed.

“And in that time, I hope that you have come to regard me as a man of both honor and integrity.”

Beckford’s eyes narrowed slightly, though he nodded in agreement.  “You’ve done nothing to suggest otherwise.”

“In that case, it is my sincerest hope that you will accept what I say to you
now
is nothing but the God’s honest truth,” Gabriel stated quietly. 

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