School For Heiresses 2- Only a Duke Will Do (18 page)

“A doctor!” Her eyes sprang open, and the abject panic in them chilled him. “Absolutely not. I’m fine, really.” She sat up, and before he could stop her, swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood. Rising himself, he caught her just as she pitched forward.

“Bloody hell.” He sat back hard on the chair with her in his arms. “Stop that, damn you, before you keel over and add another lump to the first one.”

Thank God she didn’t resist him, just settled into his lap. “I…I really am fine, you know. I only need a minute to…to steady my dizziness.”

He cradled her head against his chest with an oath. “You are the most stubborn female in creation, do you know that?”

“Surely not.” Opening her eyes, she cast him a weak smile. “There must be someone more stubborn somewhere.”

“I shudder to think it,” he said hoarsely.

She nestled against him, rubbing her cheek against the rough nankeen of his waistcoat. Suddenly she drew back to stare at his chest. “Where’s your coat?”

“God only knows. I threw it over my passengers when the mob started hurling refuse. It is probably lying trampled on the docks.”

A look of remorse crossed her face. “Did those awful people ruin your lovely phaeton?”

He couldn’t believe she was worried about that. “I don’t give a damn if they did.”

The irritation in his voice made her wince. “If you don’t care about your phaeton, then why are you so angry?”

“Good God, woman, why do you think? I nearly lost ten years off my life when you fell.” He nuzzled her hair, his voice thickening. “I don’t care about my phaeton or my coat or even the fact that the masses now think I have a mistress and a bastard headed for Australia. I only care about you.”

Her face softened, and she began to smile. Until the rest of his speech registered. “Mistress? What are you talking about?”

He explained what he thought had set the crowd off.

She frowned. “That sounds exactly like something Brutus would do.”

“Brutus?”

“Mr. Treacle. I call him Brutus the Bully because of how he treats the women.”

He tightened his arms about her fiercely. “And that is the sort of vile person you deal with—”

“Better I deal with him than the women. At least he knows he can’t bully a woman of my rank.”

“Oh?” Simon said hotly. “He can only incite a riot to attack you—”

She pulled back with a scowl. “You said the rock wasn’t meant for me.”

“That scarcely matters. You are the one it struck.”

A knock on the door presaged the entrance of a footman, who halted when he caught sight of Louisa in Simon’s arms. “I-I beg your pardon, Your Grace. I brought the smelling salts.”

With a blush, Louisa leapt from Simon’s lap. This time she stayed on her feet rather well. “Thank you,”

she told the footman, batting Simon’s hand aside when he rose and tried to pull her back toward the bed. “But as you can see, it’s not needed. I’m fine now.”

The footman glanced from Louisa to Simon. “His lordship’s doctor wasn’t home, sir, so is there another doctor you wish to call?”

“No,” she said at the same time Simon said, “Of course.”

“Simon!” she cried. “I told you, I’m not going to see a doctor.”

Ignoring her protest, Simon strode to her writing table and jotted down the name and address of his own physician. Then he walked over and handed the footman the paper. “If he’s not at this address, then he’ll be at St. Bartholomew’s.”

As the footman nodded and hurried off, Louisa darted toward the door. “Come back here this minute! I didn’t say you could—”

Simon caught her about the waist, then shut the door and locked it, pocketing the key. “That’s enough from you, Joan of Arc.” He tugged her toward the bed. “You are not going anywhere until the doctor says you can.”

Wrenching free with surprising strength, she backed away. “No doctors.”

“Do not be foolish, for God’s sake. You might have a fracture or—”

“I don’t have a fracture. I’m sure I would know if I did.”

“We will let the doctor determine that.”

“I don’t like doctors!” Alarm suffused her cheeks. “They bleed women on the smallest pretense. Besides, I feel better by the moment.” She turned in a slow circle without stumbling once. “You see? I’ll be fine. No need for a doctor.”

“Let’s see what your brother says.”

Anger flared in her face. “You can’t tell Marcus about this.”

“The devil I can’t. He needs to know what dangers you and Regina are getting into when his back is turned.”

“He already knows.”

“I seriously doubt that, or he would never let his wife participate.” Eyes narrowing, he stalked toward her. “And you wouldn’t be begging me not to tell him. So get back into that bed. Now.”

She dropped her pretense. “Simon, you mustn’t say anything to Marcus. I know you—you’ll make it sound worse than it is.”

“Worse!” he roared. “How can I make it sound worse? You nearly got killed!”

She thrust out her pugnacious chin. “And you nearly got killed at the Battle of Kirkee when you weren’t even a soldier. No one thought twice about your risking your life, but I must sit at home and do nothing like a good girl, is that it?”

“Damn it, Louisa—”

“You can’t tell him. Please.”

Muttering an oath, he raked his fingers through his already badly disheveled hair. “He’ll find out anyway from the papers tomorrow.”

“They’ve never put it in the papers before,” she said with a shrug. “I don’t know why they should put it in now.”

“Before!” Simon stepped toward her. “You mean you have been hurt—”

“No!” As she darted out of his reach, she hastened to explain. “We’ve seen the mob throwing things before, that’s all. We were never allowed to accompany the carts, but we did meet the convict women at the docks so we could hand out packets. And when we saw what they endured…”

She frowned. “It’s unconscionable. And the papers never mention it, I assure you. They condone the behavior. That was when we decided it shouldn’t happen again.”

Casting him an imploring glance, she added, “And if you tell Marcus, he’ll refuse to let me and Regina go, and then other husbands will follow suit, and the London Ladies Society will lose half its support—all over some silly rock.”

Good, he thought. “Next time it could be a brick the mob throws at you.”

“Next time I’ll wear a steel hat.”

He scowled. “Even if I don’t tell Draker, Regina will.”

“Fiddlesticks. She’s as passionate about reform as I am, and she knows how he’d react. Once she sees I

’m fine, she won’t say a word.”

She probably wouldn’t. Regina was every bit as recalcitrant as Louisa.

“Come now, Simon, you don’t really want to be at odds with us both, do you?” Louisa’s suddenly coy smile made his breath catch in his throat. “And surely you don’t want to be at odds with me.”

Now she meant to seduce him into forgetting his concern? The devil she would. “We’re already at odds, remember? After today, you mean to banish me from your presence. So no matter how angry it makes you, I will keep you safe.”

“Perhaps I was a bit hasty yesterday.” She tipped up her chin. “What if I were to say that I’ll let you observe my committee after all?”

He stared at her a long moment, then said softly, “Not good enough.”

“Then what if I were to say you could court me?” She eyed him from beneath seductively lowered lashes. “That is what you want, isn’t it?”

Good God, yes. That and more. And if he courted her, he could make sure she never risked her life again.

He snorted. Little chance of that. Louisa could get herself into plenty of trouble while he was dancing attendance on her, especially if she kept him dangling for weeks. At least with Draker, Simon had some chance of seeing an end to her activities—assuming that the man wouldn’t let the bloody females talk him

’round to their way of thinking.

“I will not risk seeing you end up dead.” He took a step toward her. “Now get back in the bed, sweetheart, so I can go see if your brother has arriv—”

She halted his words with a kiss. A very sweet, very tender kiss that sent his blood racing. When she drew back, her eyes glistened the same sultry black as the Indian nautch dancers who’d tempted the soldiers.

To his chagrin, his body leapt to attention just like one of those reckless soldiers. “What do you think you are doing?” he rasped, curling his fingers into his palms to keep from tossing her over his shoulder and carrying her to the bed.

“I’m showing you how nice it can be between us.” She draped her arms about his neck, then stretched up on tiptoe to kiss him again, this time skimming her tongue tentatively along his lips. So innocent…so alluring. And he was only human. He had nearly lost her, and now…

With a groan, he tugged her close and kissed her deeply, passionately, driving his tongue between her warm, welcoming lips over and over.

When at last he pulled back, her breath stuttered and her temptress’s eyes shone up at him. “You see how it could be?” she whispered. “And if you keep quiet about what happened today, I’ll…I’ll…” She forced a smile. “I’ll let you have as many kisses as you like.”

He started to release her, partly out of shock that she would bargain with him using kisses, and partly out of concern for her injury. But she didn’t look injured. If anything, she looked—fine. Very fine. Fine enough to devour in one gulp, with her night-dark hair in a wild tangle about her shoulders and her lips red from his urgent kiss.

His blood beat a steady tattoo in his ears. “Now? Here?” he said hoarsely. She played with a lock of his hair. “If it takes that to keep you silent…”

“Your brother will arrive any moment, and when he finds us together—”

“He won’t be back for hours. He left for Tattersall’s early this morning, and he never returns from there until late in the afternoon.”

But Draker had been summoned—

Oh, right, she hadn’t heard that. Which meant that she didn’t know how easily they might be caught. His mind began to race. This might be exactly the opportunity he needed to secure her. To end his torment. To marry her.

He gripped her waist as a plan fell into place. Though he had promised Draker he would not compromise her, that was before watching her nearly die.

“And Regina will be at the prison for a good hour more,” she went on, clearly willing to say anything to bend Simon to her will. “Besides, we’d hear either of them enter downstairs in plenty of time to stop kissing.”

He doubted that. Nor was he as certain as she seemed to be that Draker would end her reform activities if Simon tattled. But as long as Louisa believed it, Simon could get what he wanted—a chance to compromise her.

He’d have to convince her to go far enough to make Draker demand a marriage, but he could do it. Christ, if it meant winning her, he could even endure the beating that her brutish brother would surely administer.

“So?” she asked blithely. “Are we agreed?”

“Not yet. I want more for my silence than a few kisses.” He deliberately swept his gaze to where the unbuttoned collar of her pelisse robe exposed a tempting slice of bare flesh. “Quite a bit more.”

A blush stained her cheeks a deep scarlet, but she didn’t pull away. “What do you mean?”

Bringing his hand up to cover her breast, he bent his mouth to her ear. “Forbidden caresses. Forbidden, intimate caresses. I want to touch you. I want to taste you and fondle your bare flesh—”

“That isn’t acceptable.” She pushed away from him, though her eyes now held a shimmering heat that matched the fire in his belly.

“Then your brother and I will be having a long and very informative conversation about your activities as soon as he arrives.”

He loathed pressing her so wickedly, but he might never get this chance again. How better to make her want to marry him than to rouse her desires? If he could show her how sweet marriage could be…

“I do not mean to take your virtue,” he said to reassure her. “Just to have some mutual enjoyment.”

Enough to compromise her. “When we are done, you can return to being as prickly as you want.”

But he would make sure she did not want to. Ever again. And surely he could control himself long enough to pleasure her without taking her. He had waited seven years for this; he could wait a short while more for their wedding night.

She glanced away, anger warring with desire in her face. But she was no fool. She knew he meant what he said. She must really be worried that Draker would curtail her activities—and equally determined not to let him—or she wouldn’t even consider this outrageous bargain.

At last her gaze swung to his. “You must swear on your honor that you won’t ruin me.”

“I swear.” He merely had to get her so hot and bothered that she lost track of the time.

“And you have to swear that this will be the only time you make me buy your silence with…scandalous caresses. Because if you return tomorrow threatening to tell Marcus—”

“On my honor, it will be just this once.” Once was all it would take. Unless—“But you must promise to let me do as I please. No balking at caresses you think are too intimate. I have agreed not to ruin you.”

He skimmed his gaze slowly down her. “And that is the only thing I have agreed to.”

Panic crossed her face. “But you can’t stay here half the day—”

“I will stop when the doctor arrives, all right?” He only prayed that Draker got here first.

“Fine. As long as you send the doctor away when he arrives.” When Simon scowled, she added, “No doctor and no discussion with Marcus. That’s the agreement.”

She thought she was so clever. “You are in no position to bargain, sweetheart,” he reminded her.

“If you don’t want the offer—” she said primly and started to turn away.

“I’ll take it.” Giving her no chance to change her mind, he dragged her into his arms.
Chapter Fourteen

Dear Charlotte,

I would hardly call a woman of thirty-two “aging.” Nor can I imagine that all surprises are unwelcome to you. You are not as unadventurous as you pretend.

Your “aging” cousin,

Michael

M adness, sheer madness. Louisa reeled beneath the onslaught of Simon’s kisses. What had possessed her to propose this? Clearly, that rock had knocked the common sense out of her. But she couldn’t let Simon tell Marcus about today. If her brother knew she’d been hurt…No, she dared not risk it. If both she and Regina had to stop their work, the group would never survive. Fiddlesticks, her conscience said. You just want to see what Simon means by “intimate caresses”…