Intimate Betrayal (11 page)
Authors: Adrienne Basso
She gave a small laugh, thinking he was jesting with her. “How can I stay here without a position? Do you know of one for me?”
“I might.”
“You are speaking in riddles,” she said, looking at him strangely.
Morgan was momentarily stymied. For all her wild abandon tonight, he knew Alyssa was not an amoral woman. And she was proud, very proud. He did not want to risk offending and then losing her. Not yet. Not after he had decided to keep her.
“You don’t need to find employment, Alyssa. I would be honored to take care of you. If you will allow me,” Morgan declared in his most charming voice.
“Aren’t you a bit old to be a governess?” she said.
He smiled. “With the protection of my name, Alyssa, you will never want for anything. I give you my word.”
His name! Alyssa felt her heart turn over in her breast. He was serious.
He really does want me, and not for just one night.
Her pulses quickened at the thought of being with him, belonging to him.
He really does want me, and not for just one night.
Her pulses quickened at the thought of being with him, belonging to him.
“Are you sure this is what you want?” she asked shakily. “Even though I am twenty-four years old, I have very little worldly experience.”
Morgan laughed with relief that she had not refused him outright. He leered seductively at her. “I will teach you everything you need to know, love.”
“Are you sure?” she asked again, still not believing it was possible.
“I’ve never been more certain of anything. We shall deal very well together, you and I. Say yes.”
“All right then—yes,” she agreed breathlessly.
Morgan hugged her tightly, inordinately pleased. He saw the first rays of sunlight beginning to creep through the window and knew dawn was indeed fast approaching. It was time for Alyssa to leave.
“Come, Alyssa,” Morgan said, searching about the room for her nightgown. “You must return to your bed before the rest of the house awakens.”
Alyssa’s head turned sharply to the window and, seeing the telltale signs of the coming dawn, rushed to comply. She donned her bedclothes quickly, feeling strange as they stood together at the door, Morgan naked in all his male splendor while she was clothed.
“We will discuss our future plans after breakfast,” he assured her. With a quick, hard kiss, Morgan propelled Alyssa out the door.
Once alone, he stretched contentedly and padded back to the bed, fully intending to grab a few hours of much needed sleep before the new day officially began. For the first time in many years Morgan felt a true sense of peace and contentment. What a marvelous stroke of good fortune. The charming Alyssa Carrington had just agreed to become his mistress.
Alyssa walked soundlessly down the hallway, conscious of a faint soreness between her thighs. She flushed, remembering the cause. It was not, however, going to affect what was certain to be a glorious day. For the first time in many years, Alyssa felt her heart fill with pure joy. She had just agreed to become Morgan’s wife.
Chapter Six
Morgan drifted slowly awake, the strong aroma of coffee assaulting his senses. Disoriented by his unfamiliar surroundings, he didn’t immediately remember he was at Westgate Manor. Morgan sat up in bed and spied Tristan casually leaning against the fireplace mantel, sipping a cup of coffee.
“Morning, Tris.” Morgan yawned. “To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?”
“Finally,” Tristan exclaimed. “You wouldn’t have survived long in the army, sleeping so soundly. I’ve already been here fifteen minutes. I swear, Morgan, you sleep like the dead.”
Morgan grinned sheepishly. “The rain woke me last night. I guess I didn’t fall asleep until early morning.”
Morgan alighted from the bed and shrugged into his robe. He poured fresh water from the large pitcher into the porcelain basin and began to wash. “Is there any coffee for me?” he asked his younger brother.
Tristan produced another cup for Morgan, filled it from a large silver pot, and handed it to the duke. “The women were getting a bit anxious about leaving for Ramsgate Castle, so I volunteered to brave the lion in his den.”
“Honestly, Tris, it cannot be that late,” Morgan protested.
“ ’Tis nearly noon.”
“What!” Morgan exclaimed in surprise. “That’s impossible.”
“Look for yourself,” Tristan insisted, pulling back the heavy drapes, instantly flooding the room with brilliant sunshine.
“We should have left long before now. Why didn’t you wake me?”
“I was having too much fun,” Tristan replied glumly. He sat down in a faded velvet chair and lazily stretched out his legs, crossing his ankles. His clear blue eyes studied Morgan openly in the mirror while he shaved.
“I managed to get lost in the boxwood maze with Caroline and was having a charming dalliance before Priscilla descended upon us.” Tristan sighed heavily. “I swear that woman has eyes in the back of her head.”
“Maybe you should consider moving your wedding date closer,” Morgan remarked dryly. “At this rate you won’t last till your wedding night before bedding Caroline.”
“Who said anything about waiting?” Tristan responded in an offhand manner.
“Tristan.” Morgan’s voice was stern. “Need I remind you, little brother, this is not a matter to be taken lightly.” Morgan was about to launch into a rather stuffy lecture on propriety, but caught himself. What right do I have to reprimand Tristan, Morgan thought, after what took place in this room with Alyssa last night?
Tristan held up his hand to stop any additional comments from his older brother. “Enough said, Morgan. For God’s sake, give me some credit. I would never compromise Caroline before our marriage. I have far too much respect and affection for her.”
Tristan’s innocent words struck a chord in the duke, but he swiftly trampled his feelings of guilt. Turning away from the mirror Morgan wiped his face clean of soap and took a long sip of lukewarm coffee.
“What else have you been doing this morning besides chasing Caroline?”
“You mean while you’ve been sleeping the day away?” Tristan said teasingly, unable to resist the urge to needle Morgan. “Actually, we’ve had a delightful time surveying the grounds. Lady Alyssa has been very informative, as always.”
At the mention of Alyssa, Morgan ceased dressing, his mind filling with erotic images. Alyssa naked in his arms, her breathing ragged and shallow, her body clasped tightly around his, clinging to him as he deeply entered her softness.
“She is a unique woman.” Tristan’s comment brought Morgan out of his passionate remembrances. “I don’t understand, however, why she is living here.” He looked at Morgan for an explanation.
“It’s very simple,” Morgan replied as he sat on the edge of the bed and struggled with his black Hessians. “Alyssa has nowhere else to go. I recently discovered her father left her penniless, and her only relatives live in America.”
Tristan whistled in shock. Kneeling down he assisted Morgan with his boots. “What is she planning to do?”
Tristan’s inquiry presented Morgan with the perfect opening, and he seized it. “I was rather hoping you would keep her here for a time.”
“Here? Doing what?”
“This and that,” Morgan hedged. “It’s obvious the manor house needs considerable renovations before it’s fit to occupy. Miss Carrington can provide invaluable assistance in selecting and supervising the workmen. She is well acquainted with all the locals and appears to be a highly capable woman. From what I have seen of the estate, she has managed remarkably well without the benefit of formal training.”
Tristan rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “It would be very helpful having someone familiar with the area working with us.” Smiling, Tristan added, “And if I am very lucky, Priscilla will not always be able to accompany Caroline during our visits to the manor. Miss Carrington could serve as chaperon.”
“She could,” Morgan replied slowly, unsure about Alyssa’s qualifications as a chaperon.
“Do you think she would be interested in the position?” Tristan asked.
“I’m sure she would be. I’d be glad to talk to her about it for you.”
“Splendid.”
Morgan smiled brightly at Tristan’s agreement. It had been much simpler than he expected. Alyssa would be safely installed at Westgate Manor, easily accessible to him until he could make more permanent arrangements. He was prepared to be generous with her: expensive clothes and jewels, a new carriage, a modest house. Morgan felt she deserved a life of comfort and ease after struggling valiantly in an environment of financial uncertainty for so long. He was going to enjoy enriching her life.
Making a final adjustment to his cravat, Morgan turned to his brother. “Shall we join the ladies?”
The ladies were seated in silence in the morning room, taking refreshments after their garden tour. Caroline paced the room impatiently, her agitation over Tristan’s long absence evident. Lady Ogden stared quietly out the large window, ignoring her sister’s mood. Alyssa also sat silently, nervously picking off the small pieces of lint on her skirt.
Alyssa had lain awake in the early dawn hours reliving every moment of her night in Morgan’s bed. Exhausted, but still too wound up to sleep, she recalled with stunning clarity the gentle caress of his hand, the warmth of his kisses, the strength of his embrace. It all happened so quickly, and yet Alyssa had instinctively known it was right. Fate had intervened to intertwine their lives permanently. Perhaps even for eternity.
Alyssa dressed quickly but carefully that morning, anxious to see Morgan again, yet still uncertain of the unbelievable change their relationship had undergone. When he had not appeared at breakfast, she had smiled secretly to herself as the others speculated on what kept him abed. As the morning wore on, however, she became increasingly nervous about his absence.
Is he trying to avoid me? Does he regret last night so much that he cannot face me?
The questions raged in her mind, giving way to slow panic as the morning drew to a close without Morgan making an appearance. Finally Tristan announced his intention to rouse the duke, and Alyssa breathed a sigh of relief.
The questions raged in her mind, giving way to slow panic as the morning drew to a close without Morgan making an appearance. Finally Tristan announced his intention to rouse the duke, and Alyssa breathed a sigh of relief.
“I cannot imagine what is taking Tristan so long.” Caroline sighed in exasperation. “Perhaps I should go upstairs and see if he needs any help?”
“Stop being so ridiculous, Caroline,” Lady Ogden admonished in a sour voice. “You are behaving as if Tristan has been gone for a year instead of an hour. I’m sure if your assistance is needed, you shall be summoned.”
Alyssa could tell by the toss of Caroline’s head she was not pleased with her sister’s response. Caroline finally ceased her endless pacing and began tapping her fingers rapidly on the windowpane. Alyssa took a moment to admire her. She looked very pretty in her white muslin gown. The high waistline accented Caroline’s small bust, and the long flow of the skirt, with its flounces of pink at the hem, gave her the illusion of height, even though she was no taller than five feet. The open neckline of the dress was modestly filled with matching pink muslin, with a small ruffle high at the throat, gracefully displaying Caroline’s neck. Even her shoes were pink, decorated with small white satin bows.
Caroline is so dainty and feminine, Alyssa marveled. No wonder Tristan loves her. After inventorying Caroline’s many attributes, Alyssa felt clumsy and awkward, worrying how Morgan would possibly find her attractive in the light of day. For the first time in her life Alyssa wished she were tiny and petite, instead of tall and lanky. She longed to possess a gown made especially for her instead of an altered dress from her mother’s trousseau. Her lack of a decent wardrobe had never bothered Alyssa, but suddenly all her insecurities were brought into focus and she desperately wanted to possess a beauty and presence that would dazzle Morgan.
Tristan and Morgan entered the room unannounced, and Caroline gave a small squeal of delight at their sudden appearance. Lady Ogden huffed her disapproval of Caroline’s behavior, but held her tongue. Alyssa felt her heart begin to thud loudly as the duke approached. She rose quickly, searching his handsome face anxiously for an indication of his mood. His expression was unreadable, but he reached out and gently caressed her hand in greeting.
“I must apologize for being so tardy this morning. Tristan informs me that I have missed a delightful morning tour of the grounds. Perhaps I can persuade you to give me a private tour at a later time?”
Alyssa felt the color rise to her cheeks at his comment. To her ears, his every word held a double meaning. She was certain everyone in the room was staring at them. A quick glance at Tristan and Caroline revealed they only had eyes for each other, and Lady Ogden was too busy watching them to be the least bit interested in Alyssa and Morgan.
“We really must leave for Ramsgate Castle as soon as possible, Morgan,” Lady Ogden insisted. “I’m sure the duchess is wondering what has become of us.”
“We will depart after I have eaten,” Morgan replied, disappointed his chance for a private meeting with Alyssa would be missed.
“I shall inform Mrs. Stratton you are ready for your breakfast, Your Grace,” Alyssa volunteered.
Morgan made a hasty excuse and immediately hurried after Alyssa.
He caught her in front of the kitchen doors and, grabbing her hand, swung her around and into his arms.
“You haven’t given me a proper greeting yet this morning, my dear,” he said huskily, his lips claiming hers in a passionate kiss.
Alyssa felt herself melting as his lips touched hers, and she hugged him tightly to her body in response. He is glad to see me, she thought with elation. Last night was not just a dream.
“I like the way you say good morning,” she said pertly, her face shining with delight. Alyssa felt young and alive and carefree knowing Morgan still desired her.
“If we were alone in my bedchamber, I could give you a proper morning greeting,” Morgan drawled with a sensual leer.
“Then I shall look forward to the next time we wake up together,” Alyssa said, raising her face, her lips wantonly parting.
“Oh, you do tempt me, wench,” Morgan answered with a laugh. “If you keep looking at me like that, I shall have to drag you upstairs and keep everyone waiting another several hours.”
“Your Grace!” Alyssa exclaimed, suddenly feeling out of her element with his sexual banter.
“So formal, my love. I thought you were going to call me Morgan from now on.” He began to nuzzle her neck.
“Morgan, please,” she whispered breathlessly. “Someone could pass by at any moment.”
Knowing she was right, Morgan gave her one last kiss and reluctantly stepped away.
“Unfortunately we don’t have time for a proper conversation either. Priscilla was correct: we should have left hours ago.”
“I’ll speak with Mrs. Stratton and have your breakfast brought to the dining room straightaway.” Impulsively she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before leaving.
A smiling Morgan waited patiently in the dining room until Alyssa appeared with a large tray of food. She fussed a few minutes, arranging everything to her satisfaction, and then sat close to Morgan as he devoured his breakfast.
She was pleased when he informed her of Tristan’s request for her services at Westgate Manor.
“Tristan will allow me to work for him?” Alyssa asked incredulously.
“Only if that is what you want, Alyssa,” Morgan assured her. “I promised to take care of you last night and I have every intention of fulfilling my promise.”
“I want very much to stay here,” Alyssa said, looking down at her hands. The warmth and concern in his voice made her feel shy. “And I intend to hold you to your promise, Morgan.”
Tristan and Caroline entered the room, preventing any further comment from the duke.
“Here you are,” Tristan declared in mock frustration. “We have been searching everywhere for you, Morgan. Priscilla thought you might have left without us.”
“Tris,” Caroline chastised. Arms akimbo, she directed an irritated frown at her fiance. “Don’t listen to a word he says, Morgan. Tristan has been positively impossible all morning.”
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