Gervase set his jaw as he rode her through her climax and forced himself not to spill his seed inside her. He had to fight the tightening grip of her inner muscles and, to complete his misery, her long legs wrapped around him, binding him to her like ivy.
He braced his hands on either side of her head and drew back as she struggled to hold onto him.
"Elizabeth, let me go. I need to come outside of you."
She allowed him to pull away, her face puzzled as he locked an arm around her waist and forced his hips hard against hers. The blessed frenzy of release blinded him, wrung him out and left him gasping against her breasts. It took a long while before her voice penetrated the mush that remained of his brain.
"Why must you pull away from me?"
Damnation, he should have known Miss Curiosity would demand a coherent explanation. He rolled onto his back and stared at the black silk canopy embroidered with devilfish and scantily clad mermaids above his head. If he were not so exhausted he would be sorely tempted to ignore her question and kiss her until she stopped speaking. It was the most effective means he had as yet devised for shutting her up.
"If I spill my seed inside you, you might get with child."
He almost yelped as her hand slid over his stomach and fastened around his sadly depleted manly parts. She squeezed him gently and then patted him as if she were humoring an unruly pet.
"I had forgotten that the begetting of children is supposed to be the only reason for performing this particular act."
With a growl, he placed his hand over hers, pressed it hard against his cock and held it there. "We will discuss these matters in the morning. Now you need to go back to your bed. It would not do for Jacques to find you here."
She sat up, arched her back, letting the sheet fall away from her naked breasts. The smile she bestowed upon him was full of weary satisfaction. "I fear that you are right. I am a little tired after my exertions."
He picked her up and crossed the corridor to her suite. He swept back the embroidered covers and tumbled her down into the center of the bed. A single candle lightened the darkness and illuminated the pureness of her skin and the golden glints in her hair as it fanned out over the pillows. The shadowed tips of her breasts beckoned him to rub them between his fingers like crumpled rose petals.
His breathing hitched and he knew he had to have her again. If it was indeed madness, he was consumed by it and would die a happy and satisfied man. He slid inside her and took her fast and she responded with equal enthusiasm, pulling him closer, matching his driving rhythm until he groaned and withdrew as his climax overcame him.
She was already falling asleep as he disentangled himself from her arms and slid out of the bed. He paused to gaze down on her face, innocent now, in the faint glow of the dawn. He imagined getting back into bed with her and falling asleep. He knew in his soul, had always known from the first time that they had met, that he would rest well beside her.
He frowned and withdrew his hand from the silken comforter as he recognized the extent of his folly. Instead of slaking his lust, he had simply stirred it to new heights.
"Good night, my dear," he murmured.
Elizabeth thought she had only bargained for one night of passion but until he decided otherwise, he intended to remain in her bed. He stretched his satiated body. Miss Elizabeth Waterstone would just have to learn to accustom herself to his demands.
"Your Grace, I know the name of the man Mrs. Waterstone has been meeting."
Gervase replaced his knife on the side of his plate and gestured for Nicholas to shut the door and be seated. It was only seven o'clock in the morning and Elizabeth had not yet appeared for breakfast. As Gervase scanned Nicholas's worried face, his sense of satisfaction receded and his appetite went with it.
"I spoke to some of the regular patrons of the coffee house and found out that the man's name is Jack Llewelyn." Nicholas leaned across the table, grabbed the coffee pot and filled his cup. "Despite his somewhat ragged appearance, Llewelyn is regarded as a gentleman. Rumor has it that he was a military man who was kicked out of his regiment for cowardice."
"Llewelyn..." Gervase said thoughtfully. "That is the family name of the Earl of Carmarthen. He had at least three sons that I know of. I wonder if there is any connection there."
Nicholas gulped down his coffee and, despite the duke's pained stare, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Nothing I know of yet, Your Grace, although I got the impression that Jack Llewelyn was not the type of man to cross." Nicholas grimaced. "Apparently he is always willing to stand up and right a few wrongs when he feels the odds are unfair."
Gervase set down his cup. "I need to know if this man has any connection with the French, or if he has come into contact with the Foresters. And if Mrs. Waterstone meets with him again, may I suggest you follow him? I would like to know where he lives."
Nicholas hesitated. "This might sound ridiculous, Your Grace, but I still can't see Mrs. Waterstone as a French spy."
Gervase dug his hand into his breeches pocket and searched for his spectacles. "To be honest with you, Nick, neither can I, but I would appreciate your complete attention in this matter. I've learned, to my cost, not to trust anyone in this game, especially a woman."
Nicholas nodded and returned to his breakfast. As Gervase crossed the hall, he glanced up the wide staircase but there was no sign of Elizabeth. He had ordered the servants to bring her a hot bath when she finally awoke. She would probably be sore after his lovemaking. His smile faded as he shut the door into his study.
Despite all of his efforts to convince Elizabeth to trust him, she had lied about knowing Jack Llewelyn. Gervase stared unseeingly at his paper-strewn desk. He could simply ask Elizabeth about the man but he did not want to catch her out in a lie. He wanted her to trust him. He had already decided that if she were involved with Mr. Forester's schemes he would do his best to protect her from the harshest forms of justice.
He halted as the implications of his unconsciously formed decision assaulted him. He was willing to help a potential spy? What in God's name had Elizabeth done to him? And now that he had taken her to bed, he wanted to continue to enjoy her. She was either the cleverest woman he had ever come across or the unluckiest. He cursed fluently, pulled a piece of parchment from his desk drawer and began to write.
*** *** ***
Elizabeth awoke from a deep sleep to find the sun shining through her curtains and the morning well advanced. She stretched and felt her body arch and ache in a sensual echo of her night of passion. Her door opened and the cheery face of Nancy, her maid, peeked in.
"Good morning, Ma'am. I will ready your bath if you are wanting it."
"Yes please."
Elizabeth pulled on her robe, crawled out of bed and into the welcoming bath. As she relaxed into the perfumed water, she leaned back and contemplated the ceiling. She ran the tip of her tongue over her still-swollen lips and shivered. How would the duke behave toward her after their night of lovemaking? She had already learned that, like her, he had an uncanny ability to show a calm face to the world when his inner thoughts were in turmoil.
Elizabeth soaped her neck and frowned at the gilded cherub above her head. In truth, she was more worried about her reaction to the duke than his reaction. She was afraid she might be overcome with an urge to kiss him over the breakfast table in front of Sir John and Standish.
She couldn't help but smile as she washed her hair and rinsed it with the jug of clean water Nancy had left beside the bath. She did not regret her night with the duke in the slightest. It had been everything she had hoped for.
Her smile died as she contemplated her future. She had to seek another protector and she must start her search at once. The prospect was even more unappealing now that she had tasted the delights the duke could offer her. It might be best for her to avoid Gervase in case she should weaken and beg him to allow her to stay in his arms forever. With this less than cheerful thought, she dragged herself out of the bath and began to dress, her spirits unaccountably dampened.
By the time she arrived at her desk, Sir John was already patrolling the carpet, a superior smile on his face. He pointed to a new message, which lay on her desk.
"There was no need to hurry, Mrs. Waterstone, I scarcely needed you. I believe I've almost cracked this code already."
She marched up to the desk and snatched the code. "If it truly is that simple, sir, I'm sure I'm perfectly capable of deciphering it in my sleep!"
A gentle cough from the doorway made Elizabeth spin around to find Gervase regarding her through his spectacles. His pensive gaze slid from her to a red-faced Sir John. "Are you two squabbling?"
Elizabeth blushed like a five-year-old caught out in mischief and Sir John cleared his throat. "I just informed Mrs. Waterstone that I had almost broken the new code and she seemed to take exception to my claim."
Elizabeth looked up and found the duke's hooded eyes fixed on her. A distracting warmth settled low in her stomach, making her sound sharper than she intended. "Sir John seems to think my services here are unnecessary. Do you agree with him, Your Grace?"
The duke maintained eye contact with Elizabeth as he spoke to Sir John. "I think you should allow Mrs. Waterstone to translate the code herself and then, if she admits defeat, perhaps you could try it."
Elizabeth worried at her already bitten lip. It seemed Sir John was right and Gervase didn't completely trust her after all.
Sir John bowed, a small triumphant smile on his lips. "Thank you, Your Grace. I'm only trying to be of service."
He turned and left the room, humming as he retreated down the corridor. Elizabeth sat down and stared blindly at the sheet of parchment in front of her. The duke continued to watch her from the doorway as she picked up her quill pen and sharpened it with hard, uneven strokes.
"I'm sure you will translate the code perfectly, Elizabeth." The duke paused as if waiting for her reply. She refused to look at him and he continued with a sigh. "Please don't take this personally. I have to be certain that the information I receive is accurate. No one is above suspicion. I set checks on everyone."
Elizabeth slowly raised her head and looked at him. "I do understand, Your Grace. Perhaps it would be better if Sir John could translate the code as I will not be here for much longer."
The duke took off his glasses and slowly polished them against his thigh. "What do you mean, my dear?"
Elizabeth attempted a shrug. "As we agreed, I will be looking for a new protector. I could hardly work for you whilst I'm entertaining another man."
The duke's gaze frosted and he glanced at the clock. "You will accompany me to Angelique's in an hour. We will discuss your future plans there. Please don't keep me waiting."
He left, closing the door firmly behind him and leaving Elizabeth with the uncomfortable sensation that she had somehow erred. The sensation remained with her as she turned her attention back to the code. Sir John was right. The translation was ridiculously easy until she attempted to understand the key words in each sentence.
She battled with the encrypted words for almost an hour before she remembered the duke's command and hurried upstairs to put on her favorite lavender pelisse and matching bonnet. The duke met her in the hall, his many-caped black driving coat already around his shoulders, and escorted her out to his phaeton.
She sat quietly, ignoring his attempts at conversation as he drove through the busy thoroughfares and then into the residential quarters. The sun had disappeared behind the clouds by the time Angelique's discreet maid let them into her beribboned parlor. Elizabeth sat in one of the dainty pink striped chairs while the duke prowled the room like a caged animal.
When Angelique opened the door, she paused on the threshold, hands clasped at her lush bosom, and stared first at Elizabeth and then at the duke. Her face became wreathed in smiles. "You have taken Elizabeth to bed, Gervase. I'm so pleased for you both."
Elizabeth stared open mouthed at the duke who shrugged his immaculately clad shoulders. "Angelique is French, my dear. She can sense a love affair beginning in another country."
Elizabeth shot to her feet. "We are not having a love affair. We had one night. That was all I required of you."
Ignoring Angelique, the duke crossed the carpet and placed his fingers under Elizabeth's chin. "All you required of me? Are you daring to suggest I've nothing more to offer you?" His tone became biting. "If you think I will let you go after only one night, you are sadly mistaken."
He smiled down at her and then glanced at Angelique. "Do you want to tell her how wrong she is?"
Angelique spread her hands. "Gervase, we were barely adults when we became lovers. Maybe Elizabeth is in a better position to judge you now than I am. Perhaps you did not live up to her expectations."
The duke cursed under his breath. "Damnation, I would rather face a pack of screeching harpies than you two."
Angelique floated across to Elizabeth and linked their arms. "Come upstairs with me, Elizabeth, and let Gervase compose himself. I've something I think you might need."
*** *** ***
Elizabeth stared with horrified fascination at the small pile of natural sponges and the dark bottle of vinegar as Angelique calmly explained how they could help prevent a pregnancy. She tried to listen when Angelique spoke knowledgeably about counting the days of her cycle and when it was most dangerous to make love. She watched and nodded as Angelique showed her how to attach a thin line of sewing thread to the sponge, soak it in the vinegar and then...
Elizabeth laid her hand over Angelique's. "Why are you telling me this? I've no intention of sleeping with Gervase again."
Angelique began to put the items into a small bag, her face serious. "This is a gift for you, not for Gervase. If you decide to move on to another protector you will still need to prevent a pregnancy." Angelique's fingers tightened on the bag. "Most men will not pay for the upkeep of their bastards. I've friends who have been left penniless and on the streets with a small child."