Between the Duke and the Deep Blue Sea (27 page)

Roxanne eyed first Mémé before turning to him. She sighed and shook her head. “I shall bid you all good night, then. And thank you again for your concern. But really, this is the most ridiculous allegation and I refuse to be cowed by it. Everything will be brought to light in the name of justice. I am only sorry any of you might become involved.” She glanced at him. “I won’t bore you with another apology. I fear there is nothing more I can say to—”

Isabelle rushed to grasp her hands. “Hush. Don’t you dare turn away. You are one of us and we help our own.”

“Thank you,” Roxanne murmured, squeezing the duchess’s hands.

“I think that’s enough wretched theatrics for one day, don’t you agree, Mary? My stomach can only take so much
sauce moutarde
and the other. I’m for bed with a nice warm bottle of Armagnac. I suggest everyone do the same.”

“Perfect idea, Alexander,” Roxanne said with false brightness. “Everything will appear so much worse in the morning.”

“My thoughts precisely,” he murmured, glad to see she had not completely lost her humor. They would both need it to see them through to the gross end. And that was about as much optimism as he could muster for a man who had taken a vow to change his point of view of the world.

A
lex finally acknowledged to himself that he had known what he would do the moment he had learned Paxton was dead. Somewhere deep inside the muscle of his brain, he had always known his final course no matter what. He feared he had even probably known the afternoon he had pulled the gray and dusty statue-come-to-life form of Roxanne Newton Vanderhaven past the lip of Kynance Cove cliff.

And he would not change his decision. No, to be true to himself, it was only fair to admit it was not a decision. It was a godforsaken, stupid, ill-conceived, not a chance in a million
plan
. He would only need time, something he feared he had little of, to see it through.

But to achieve it, or at least to attempt to achieve part of it without her interference, he would put Roxanne in Isabelle’s connecting apartments, along with Mémé for good measure, bar the windows, and place the Cossack between the two chambers’ doors.

Then he plunked a well-padded leather chair from his study at the end of the long hallway where Isabelle’s chamber was located. And he sat his derrière down to wait out the night. He was not taking any chances. He knew her far too well now.

Two hours passed with only the interruption of the grandfather clock two floors below clanging the hours. The Armagnac served to clear his mind instead of calm it. He used the time wisely, carefully reexamining his past, the present, and what he wanted for the future. He was determined to live a good life. A life of duty, even if everything was lost to ill chance. It was the only way he could die in peace in the end, whenever that was. There would be no more living on the sidelines of life, watching it unfold without attempting to right a wrong. His life might be in complete tatters at this moment, yes; he might very well face murder charges, and be unable to save himself, or worse, Roxanne. And he would be so out of favor with the Prince Regent now, that he could very well lose everything.

But it was amazing to him that if he concentrated solely on doing his duty to the best of his ability, focused only on protecting others—protecting
her—
to right a wrong, then he could let everything else fall away. He would—

First the Cossack slumped to one side, and just like a horse, fell asleep on his feet. A quarter hour later, Alex watched the chamber door open slowly. He dropped his head to one side and pretended to be asleep.

He heard her light, fast footfalls coming toward him. At the last moment, he stuck out his boot.

She tripped and he grabbed her before she could fall forward. He pulled her into his lap and chuckled softly. “Cherie . . . Really?”

“I beg your pardon,” she said with a put-out air.

He stood up and gripped her arms and legs to keep her from pushing away from his grasp.

“Put me down,” she said halfheartedly.

“Ah . . .
non,
” he said quietly. “That I will not do. You must come with me now and accept your punishment. It’s been a long time coming.”

She stopped wiggling. “Botheration. What you call punishment might very well be a reward in disguise.” She smiled finally. “You think you know everything when gentlemen know actually nothing.”

He was walking as quickly as he could toward his own chamber. “Really? Hmmm. How much do you weigh anyway? I think you’d better stop ladling the
sauce moutarde
for a while.”

“And I think you’d better have another bottle of spirits in your chamber.”

“Of course I do.”

“Good. All the better to bash your head with it.”

“You certainly took your time trying to escape.”

“I thought you once told me anticipation is half the fun.”

He rolled his eyes. “I refuse to remember ever saying that.”

He awkwardly opened his door, carried her inside, and locked it while almost dropping her.

“Let me down, Alexander.”

“No.” He proudly carried her to his bed and placed her in the center, feeling just like an animal guarding his supper. He dropped to one knee, snatched her slippers off, and tossed them over his shoulder.

He thought he might have heard a giggle, but perhaps it was just the sound of her trying to wiggle away from him.

“Not on your life,” he murmured. “Be a lady about this.”

“As long as you don’t plan on tickling me, I’ll accept anything you do.”

He ran his hands up her calves and then suddenly stopped.

She rose up to her elbows, a small smile on her face. “What is it?”

“How far did you think you’d get in your night rail?” He had only just noticed what she was wearing. “You were going to run away in this?”

She smiled knowingly and it warmed his gut.

“I told you, gentlemen know very little of anything.”

“I know how to run away,” he murmured, “and it doesn’t ever include flimsy nightclothes.” He ran his hands higher and higher, allowing her fine cotton night rail to follow his fingers.

She inhaled raggedly, but failed miserably at appearing undaunted by his actions. “Well, at least you admit running away is your strong suit.” She pulled her foot from his grasp. “You just don’t know how to stay.”

He retrieved her foot and stretched out her leg again. “Where exactly did you think to go at three o’clock in the morning?” He lazily caressed her beautiful firm limb.

It brought the prickle of gooseflesh to her skin and he felt her shudder. He leaned closer and turned her ankles out to kiss the tender skin of her inner calves.

“I, um . . .” She was breathing too fast. “I was . . . Oh, I can’t think when you do that.”

He stopped for a moment and smiled to himself.

“But don’t stop. Oh, God—please don’t stop.”

He smiled wider and could not dam the growing trickle of happiness he tried so hard to stop all his life. “Tell me where you were going.” He began to kiss her legs again when she spoke.

“To this very chamber, you imbecile.”

“I must teach you more refined terms of endearment,
cherie.
And just why were you coming to my chamber?” He had reached her pretty knees. He turned them out as well.

“I told you. To find . . . spirits.”

He nipped the inner flesh of her thigh.

She jumped. “Ow.”

“That, by the way, is never a sound a man likes to hear in bed. And you haven’t answered the question.”

She giggled that beautiful, deep laugh of hers and the trickle of happiness flowed faster. He lowered his head back down to continue the feast in an uphill fashion.

She spoke in a jumble. “Well, I’m no longer married. And I think the world knows I’m not dead. And I will only spend one more night here before I go. So . . .” Her chatter stopped and then she inhaled a shocked sound before scooting farther away from him and drawing her legs back under her gown.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He stood up, pulled the end of his neckcloth, and then divested himself of his coat and vest before pulling his shirt over his head.

“That’s what I was going to ask.” Her blue eyes were incandescent in the huge chamber. A single flame from a glassed-in candle illuminated his apartment.

He crooked his finger toward her. “Come back here, my little flower. You are not going anywhere. Tonight or tomorrow or any other day.” He tugged off his evening footwear, and tossed them over his shoulder as well. His stockings followed in their wake, leaving him in satin knee breeches, which he did not remove.

“I’m not sure I really like this new domineering habit you’ve assumed. And you cannot tell me what to do.”

“I can’t?” he growled.

“No. And by the by, it’s not very romantic. I’m certain Frenchmen don’t seduce women like that. It’s not very smooth or—”

He jumped on the bed and pinned her down; his hands gripped her arms and his legs encased hers. “You,
cherie,
talk too much.”

“I know,” she whispered. “I think I do it when I’m nervous.”

He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. “I know.” A flush crested her delicate cheeks, and he brushed a stay strand of hair from her face. “It’s one of the things I tolerate from no other woman except you.”

“I’m not sure if I should say thank you or not.”

“Hush.” He placed a finger to her lips. “Now, we are going to go somewhere far, far away right now and forget for just a little while what happened today. Will you let me take you?”

She nodded.

“Will you not question me?”

“I can’t promise that.”

“Good,” he chuckled. “But will you trust me?” He’d asked her that same question a very long time ago. This time he received the answer he had never wished to hear before.

“With my life.”

“As I do you with my own,” he said gently.

Alex gathered her in his arms, protectively, his shoulders flexing over hers. Slowly, ever so slowly he lowered his lips to hers and deeply kissed her, inhaling the honeyed sweetness that was hers alone. He could feel how fast her heart was beating . . . for him.

He nibbled the edge of her mouth to seek entrance. When she parted her lips he twined his tongue with hers. Her kiss drugged him and he could not get enough of her. He wanted to shred the barrier of her night rail between them, but instead he forced himself to slow down—something next to impossible. The incessant throb of an arousal had taken hold of him the moment he’d placed her on his bed.

But it had to be a long, leisurely dance for what he had in mind. He wanted to unleash the innate power of her, and he would do it. Even if it was for this one night only. Change was inevitable, but he’d be damned if he’d not live every moment with her while he could still breathe.

His hands almost trembled with the need to take her, and yet he moved lower to kiss the soft lobe of her ear, the column of her neck, and the length of her collarbone. And all the while the hard length of him pulsed with the need to be inside her.

She arched her strong, lithe back and sighed as he pushed down her neckline and settled between her breasts, paying homage in the fashion he knew she loved. He would stay here all night if that was what she wanted. He licked. He swirled his tongue and suckled her. He lightly bit the tender crests until she almost sobbed for him to stop.

With the sweep of his hands he pulled her forward for a moment and swept the gown over her head, leaving her fully revealed before him for the first time. Good God, this was heaven. It must be.

She was a slender, long, perfectly formed siren. She was lean and strong, with small breasts, slim hips, like a girl entering womanhood who liked climbing trees and clamoring down mines instead of taking tea and eating pastries. Yet, she called to him like no other. She was simply irresistible and he would never want another ever again even if it meant a lifetime without.

He twisted a long strand of her blond hair, which was loose, and brushed her lips and then the tips of her breasts with it. Watching the ruched tip tighten more made the tension in his groin nearly unbearable.

“Now, where was I?” he gritted out. He touched his finger to her lips when she opened her mouth.

Slowly, he moved lower, trying not to think about the exquisite pleasure-pain, the friction caused beyond the fall of his breeches. His feet touched the floor again and he stared into her darkened eyes, and gently, but deliberately spread her long legs apart. This was what he had wanted to do for so long but had never dreamed of actually achieving. He kept his eyes on hers, while he ran his hands over the tops of her lovely slim legs. Again and again he caressed her, first with his hands then with his lips, all the while watching her imperfectly perfect face.

Her head finally dropped back and her breathing became uneven. He slowed his movement until his hands stopped at the juncture of her thighs. Gently, he pushed her legs even farther apart and raised her knees. He could feel her tension but she did not resist him.