His Bewitching Jewel (A Regency Holiday Romance Book 7) (11 page)

Ruby waited until the two little ladies had walked down all of the steps, and then, while they were on their way to the Music Room, she raced out of her hiding spot and dashed up the steps. Completely out of breath by the time she reached her bedchamber, she took a moment to compose herself. Her thoughts were wild. And she didn’t trust herself to make a sensible decision, so she sat on her bed. She wanted to flee in terror, and yet, she didn’t want to have any regrets. She knew one thing though—she couldn’t trust herself around the Duke.

She had almost called him Phineas back there, even though he looked more like a Finn. She couldn’t continue like this. She could not. They had known each other for a scant few days so why did she bloody well feel as if she had come home? Why did she feel like she was right where she belonged, whenever he came into the room?

It was sheer madness—that is what it was.

“You have to stop running away, Miss Massey. It isn’t polite,” his husky voice gave her a start, and she let out a little gasp. She hadn’t shut her bedchamber door, and he stood silhouetted in the doorway.

“It is what I do best, sir,” she said crisply.

He sighed, “I highly doubt that, Miss Massey.”

She looked away from him. His handsome visage was etched in her memory. His beautiful eyes were at risk of captivating her again. “This isn’t to be borne, Your Grace. This might be your house, but you are about to step into my bedchamber, and that is not befitting a proper gentleman such as yourself.”

“And who said I was a proper gentleman?” he asked, with a roguish grin. Her heart almost flew out of her chest at his brilliant smile. Drat it, he could out charm any of the men she had known back in Wiltshire. Charm was a bloody perfected art form for him. She bet that he could get any proper woman to risk a terrible fall with that twinkle in his eyes, and that rakish grin of his. He was both charming and clever, and that was a damnably dangerous combination.

“You are a duke,” she said breathlessly.

“And you think that automatically makes me a gentlemen? I hate to say it, my dear, but I know a lot of proper bastards who were born into the Peerage, and therefore should be considered gentlemen, even though they assuredly are not.”

“Even if you do not think you are a gentlemen, I was raised to be a lady.”

“I know,” he said, his voice deepening even more. The sultry look in his eyes made her look away. He shouldn’t be here in her bedchamber, and she shouldn’t be sitting on her bed while he looked at her. She jumped up, as if she had been burnt.

“Why are you here, Ruby?” he asked softly. He stepped into the bedchamber and shut the door behind him. She was ruined. He had just ruined her. If anyone else knew he was here, her reputation would be damaged beyond repair. Damnation. And yet, she wasn’t the slightest bit afraid of him being in her room with the door closed.

“I am here because I didn’t want to stay one minute longer in the Music Room,” she said softly, deliberately avoiding his gaze.

“I wasn’t referring to that. They could have used women like you back when we were fighting Napoleon. Your ability to lurk and listen without being detected would have been valued greatly. I wanted to know why you came to Cornwall in the first place. Why did you leave your old life behind? I thought it was because you had been forced out, that you had been put out into the cold, but that isn’t the case is it, Ruby?”

She shook her head.

“Were you running from someone, Ruby?” It seemed as if he couldn’t get enough of hearing her name roll over his tongue, and while she liked hearing him call her by her Christian name, she had to stop it. His familiarity with her had to be halted because she wasn’t his equal. She was his employee, and right now, the lines were becoming so blurred, that she might be tempted to ruin herself just to spend more time with him.

“I think…I think you should call me Miss Massey, Your Grace.”

“I like Ruby much better,” he said softly.

“Well, I do not,” she said crisply. “I prefer Miss Massey.”

“Do you, really?” he asked, taking a step away from the door. She dashed over to the other side of the room to stand by the window. She had to put as much distance between them as was possible.

“Please, sir. You are going to ruin my reputation.”

“I am?” he asked innocently.

“You might not have much regard for it, Your Grace, but I do. I have lived most of my life protecting it. And…and, I didn’t run from one man…” she stopped short, and clapped her hand over her mouth.

“Ah,” he said, his eyes twinkling merrily. “Now I understand. You have run from a man. I hope I have nothing to worry about…I pray he wasn’t a serious contender for your heart. Tell me true—was he a lecherous blackguard?”

She groaned, and turned away from him. “Aye,” she said, staring out the window. “He was the worst.” She turned back to face him, just as she felt him come up behind her. “Please, Your Grace, you shouldn’t be here.”

“I probably shouldn’t. But I wouldn’t worry about it, Ruby—I like to live dangerously.”

“You think this is living dangerously? I disagree, sir. We being found together in my bedchamber wouldn’t taint your honour. Men are allowed such liberties. Women, like me, anyway, are not. You will turn me into a fallen woman, and I…I cannot risk that.”

“Oh, but I expect you would enjoy it. I would make sure of it.”

She bristled indignantly. “You are a duke—I am a governess. Our worlds…our worlds are separate. I can’t ever be a part of your world again.”

“So…you entertained dukes back in your former life, did you?” he asked softly, his eyes twinkling merrily.

“You are making fun of me,” she said, walking toward him, as anger rolled through her.

“I…I suppose I am. If I had known it would make you dazzle this much, I confess I would have done it sooner. I rather like seeing you all riled up.”

“You, sir, are a blackguard.”

“I thought I was a duke,” he said cheekily.

“Cleverness won’t get you anywhere with me, Your Grace.”

“I rather hoped it would,” he sighed mournfully. “Tell me more about the other dukes who gave you their attention.”

“You still don’t believe me, do you?” she asked softly. Dismay shone in her eyes. He felt wretched.

“I never said I didn’t believe you,” he countered.

“I had two dukes who had their eyes on me…one was an older Scottish gentleman, and the other was much younger, British, and penniless.”

“Penniless? Poor devil. I know what it takes to run an Estate like this, and one can’t do it on dried up coffers.”

“Indeed, they cannot. He was on the hunt for a maiden with great fortune. I am not an heiress, therefore, he could not consider me as a suitable match.”

“Ah…well, your uncle is not a member of the peerage, so I expect you wouldn’t be, even though…we sometimes run in the same circles.”

“Oh, so you think my uncle is beneath you, do you?” she laughed. “He could easily afford to run this drafty old place,” she said, sticking her nose haughtily into the air.

“Is he now? Why, he must be from an old family—or did he make his own way in the world?”

“He is a country squire, cousin to the Earl of…” she caught herself before she damned herself.

“Oh, pray don’t stop, Ruby, dear. Tell me more. To what old family does he belong? Let me guess, he has an Estate that is the talk of Sussex. I suppose people come from miles away to be entertained at his balls, and other social soirees. He is probably the talk of the ton because they think he shouldn’t be as wealthy as he is…as he is not a Peer of the Realm…”

She wanted to slap him. He was acting like a pugnacious cretin. He was acting like a spoiled brat. She wanted to rail against him. But she felt too tired to give him a good fight. Instead, she let out a heavy sigh. He would trick her into giving him what he sought eventually. So, there was only one thing left for her to do. She might as well tell him exactly who her uncle was. That way, she would divulge the information on her own terms. If he wanted to write to her uncle, he could do so…she no longer cared.

“He…my Uncle Thomas, is a Somersby.”

Surprise lit his gaze. He looked quite astonished, and a little paler than he did before. He clumsily stepped backward.

“I…I beg your pardon, Miss Massey. I think I have quite overstayed my welcome. Pray forgive me, pray forgive me. I have been a churl. I have been a blackguard. I have been a rapscallion, and I do hope you can forgive me someday.” He bowed to her, and then, turned around, strode to the door, and left it as quietly as he came.

She couldn’t make much sense of his reaction. How could mentioning her uncle’s family name bring about such a startling change within the Duke? He had looked quite contrite. She thought for one brief moment that he might get down on his knee to beg her forgiveness, whilst kissing the back of her hand.

The Somersbys were an old respected family, but she hadn’t expected the Duke to recognize their name. She felt a swell of pride, and an immense sense of relief. If no one had seen the Duke come and go, her reputation might not be in tatters after all.

She just might be able to continue on here as Lady Miranda and Lady Cordelia’s governess, without the servants gossiping about her.

She sat down on her bed and sighed. Of course, the servants were everywhere in this house. Who was she kidding? They would already know about it, and it would be bandied about below downstairs, as the juiciest bit of gossip they had ever heard. She was a ruined woman.

She, Ruby Massey, had just fallen, and she had fallen hard—in love.

Finn couldn’t believe it.

He felt like a bloody blackguard now. How could he have treated her so ill? He had to focus and collect his rambling thoughts. He suddenly felt as if he was all over the place.

He knew of Thomas Somersby, as they shared a mutual friend. He retreated to the Library, and went over to his mahogany Tantalus. The box housed decanters, and matching glasses. He took the stopper out of the decanter filled with whisky, and poured himself a glass. Sighing, he moved over to sprawl out in his leather chair, and looked at the table that sat next to the chair.

He would have to write to the man and tell him that Ruby was his governess. He would also have to control his desire around her—ruining her, and not marrying her was completely out of the question now.

Ruby had to have left for a reason. He couldn’t see her fleeing her uncle. The man might be a little larger than life, but he wasn’t a hard man to get along with. He was generous with his ample wealth, if at times, a little crude.

“Oh, Ruby, I was so close to claiming you,” he said, taking another sip of his whisky. Books started to fly off the shelves. “You needn’t get testy, Grandmother. I am all too aware that she is not a maiden I should ruin.”

The books stopped flying off the shelves. So, he had deducted correctly. It had been his grandmother that time. This old house had so many bloody ghosts, he had a hard time keeping them all in order.

As he saw it, there were two courses of action he could now execute. He could marry Ruby, and then send a missive to her family, or he could write them first. He rather liked the first option over the latter, as the first one would give him what he wanted so much quicker.

Ah, but there was a third option. He could leave her be, and keep away from her until she trusted him enough to divulge to him her true reasons for leaving her family behind and making an arduous journey to Cornwall, alone. Now that he reflected upon how sheltered her life had been, he wanted to chastise her for throwing caution to the wind, and putting herself into such jeopardy.

She had ridden on the Mail Coach! She had ridden, alone, unchaperoned—didn’t she have no reckoning of what sort of peril she could have found herself in?

He felt indignant about the whole thing, and while it hadn’t affected him before he knew who she was—it affected him now.

“Damnation,” he said, setting his glass aside, he stood up. He couldn’t stay away from Ruby no more than he could cease to breathe air. He had to go back to her, and tell her what a foolish little chit she was. He couldn’t leave things between them as they were now.

Striding to the library door, a footman opened it, and she stood on the threshold, gazing at him with her lovely green eyes. His stomach twisted, and his mind reeled. She always had this curious effect on him. She robbed him of breath and sanity.

He motioned for her to enter the Library, and then, he shut the doors so the footmen were standing outside.

“I want to throw myself upon your mercy,” she whispered, barely loud enough for him to hear.

Now this was something he hadn’t expected to hear her say. “You do not need do that, Ruby,” he said softly.

“Yes, yes, I do,” she stammered, her cheeks flushed. “I can’t…you can’t…pray, don’t write to my uncle.”

He turned around, and retreated further into the Library. “Tell me why I shouldn’t.” He shouldn’t be stringing her along like this, but he couldn’t quite help himself. He wanted to know everything there was about her, and this seemed to be the only way to gain that information.

“My mother cannot know where I am.”

He regarded her steadily. “They might already know. If you left behind anything that could connect you to this place, they might be on their way as we speak.”

“No…I took everything with me. I didn’t leave anything behind that could allow them to figure out where I am. Besides, they won’t have noticed anything is amiss yet—well, probably.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I am supposed to be in London right now, hitting the shops, with one of my friends there.”

“And yet, here you are. The friend will notice that you haven’t arrived, Ruby.”

“Aye, Lady Knightwick will. But it will take them time to communicate with my uncle—and hopefully, they won’t ever be able to find me.”

“You have gone to an awful lot of trouble to lose yourself. Why?”

“My mother planned for me to marry a man I did not desire.” The look of agony that crossed her features, made anger stir within him.

“He wasn’t at all like me, the man you don’t desire, eh? And I suppose he wasn’t one of the dukes who had a fondness for you?”

She coloured up more at his words. “No. It wasn’t one of the dukes. My mother wouldn’t aim that far for me. She wanted to see me live in misery. The man…the man she wanted me to marry…was the Rector in our parish. He was…he was not the sort of man I ever thought I could leg-shackle myself to. He didn’t know how to bathe, and his manners were much to be desired—at least with me they were.”

“So…he stunk to high heaven, and he was a rude cretin?”

“You could say that,” she gave him a tentative smile.

Oh, God, how he wanted to pull her into his arms, and ravish her. That way, she would never have to worry about becoming her mother’s pawn again.

“So you ran out of one man’s arms straight into another.” He liked to tease her. The way her eyes danced while she looked as if she wanted to flee from him, delighted him to no end.

“I did not come here seeking to find myself a man,” she said softly.

“And yet, here I am.”

She sighed, and turned away from him. “I see you will not take me seriously.”

“Oh,” he said huskily, gently turning her to face him. “I have never given such serious thought to anything before.”

She bowed her head. “We cannot behave like this, Your Grace. We barely know each other.”

“From the first moment I met you, Ruby, I felt as if we had known each other forever, and were finally reunited after a long separation.”

“I am not here to become your wife.”

“You might not have come here with that intention in mind, Ruby, but you must feel it, now. You must feel this drawing attraction between the two of us. It is like a magnetic pull.”

She sighed. “I should leave.”

“No,” he said, a bit stronger than he wanted to, because his voice had made her wince. “I don’t want you leaving Penryn House. I…I would follow you wherever you ran, Ruby, and I would always find you.”

“I don’t believe you,” she said stubbornly. He reached down and gently tipped her chin up to meet his gaze.

“I never lie,” he proclaimed.

“What I actually meant…was that I need to leave the Library. No matter how much I might be tempted, I do not think that I can leave this place. It terrifies me and yet, Lady Miranda and Lady Cordelia have worked their way into my heart.”

“Much in the way that I have worked myself into your heart as well,” he said impishly.

She sighed. “I…love can’t bloom in such a short amount of time, sir.”

“Love can happen in the blink of an eye, Miss Massey.”

He wanted to pull her against his chest, more than that, he wanted to kiss her sweet lips. He wanted to do that and so much more. He couldn’t wait until he could claim her as his wife and take her to his bed, and never let her go.

She licked her lips. That was it. He could wait no longer. He had to kiss her.

Her eyes widened, and she must have anticipated his intent. She stepped backward, and then turned around and dashed toward the door.

“You can run, Miss Massey. But you cannot hide. Not in this big house of mine—I shall always find you.”

“And…” she turned back to confront him. “Maybe one of those times, I will want to be found. As it is, I must finish my day of work. Your nieces still require instruction, and we cannot let anything distract me, can we?”

“I suppose not,” he said reluctantly.

“Do I have your word?” she asked, as he slowly crossed the distance that lay between them.

“Oh, you do have my word, Miss Massey. I shall make you mine one day. By the end of the month—you will be my wife, mark my words.”

“That was not what I meant…again, you misunderstand me, sir.”

“Ah, you mean can you trust me not to contact your uncle?”

“Aye.”

“It wouldn’t be to my benefit to contact him. And, as I think you are perfectly safe with me—safer here than you would be anywhere else. You are certainly safer than you were on that damnable Mail Coach. You could have been accosted by strange men. Do you realize what could have happened to you? I thought…I thought when I engaged you that you were an old woman, wise to the ways of the world, and now…now I find that you are not. You could have been hurt! What the bloody hell were you thinking when you decided to travel by way of that damnable conveyance?”

“I do not have to explain myself to you, sir,” she said softly.

“Maybe not—but someday you will.”

“Mayhap, but I wouldn’t bet on it.”

“You have my word. I shall not contact your uncle until after we are married.”

“You have far too much confidence, Your Grace.”

“You might have eluded other men, Ruby, but they didn’t feel about you the way I feel, because if they did, they would be here beating down my door.”

“No man could possibly love me that much. I am not worth it, sir.”

“Oh, but you are. You are a priceless jewel, Ruby.”

She gave him a soft smile, and without another word, she left the room.

His courtship of Miss Ruby Massey had only just begun. He would spend the rest of October wooing his way into her heart, and by Allantide, she would be his.