School For Heiresses 2- Only a Duke Will Do (21 page)

Chapter Sixteen

Dear Charlotte,

I did not credit the rumor about Foxmoor’s nakedness, since he does not strike me as the reckless sort. Miss North is another matter. After years of good works, what woman could resist the promise of passion from a man as accomplished as the duke?

Your cousin,

Michael

F our days later, Simon watched as his new wife mingled with the guests at their wedding supper. He could hardly believe it—Louisa was his at last. He had traveled to hell and back to get her, but he had done it, by God, and surely everything would be easy sailing now.

As if she felt his gaze, she looked over and smiled, and that smile thrummed through him like a sitar string freshly plucked. She fairly sparkled today in her gown of silver satin, with the Foxmoor diamonds about her throat and orange blossoms speckling her dark hair. He couldn’t wait until she lay in his bedchamber wearing only those diamonds and her Cleopatra smile.

What he felt must have shown in his glance, for her smile grew sultry and she raised an eyebrow. When he lifted his glass of champagne in a silent toast, she turned back to Mrs. Harris with a musical laugh. Every inch of him exulted.

It had all been worth it—Draker’s draconian amendments to the marriage settlement and the rush to get the special license. Even the terms Louisa had demanded of him the day he’d compromised her. He bit back a smile, remembering it. Any other woman would have leapt to marry a rich duke after he’d ruined her so publicly. But not Louisa, oh no. She had exacted her pound of flesh with all the righteous indignation of a wronged woman.

He had let her have her terms because she would have little chance to relish her triumph. By agreeing to quit her Ladies Society when she became enceinte, she had sealed her fate. He would put a babe in her belly in record time.

And he was bloody well going to enjoy doing it, too.

His sister strolled up beside him. “You look rather pleased with yourself.”

“As do you.” He drank deeply of his champagne. “God knows you have been angling for me to marry her for years.”

“You will treat her well, won’t you?”

“Your husband made sure of that—she now has enough pin money to start her own country. And her jointure—”

“I am not speaking of money, as you well know.”

He stared off to where Louisa filled her plate with roast beef and pickles. “Do not fret, Regina. I would sooner cut off my arm than willingly hurt her.”

He winced as he heard the words leave his mouth. It was true, but the last thing he needed was for his sister—or his new wife—to know that. They had already taken enough advantage of his obsession. He forced a smile. “I must congratulate you on your spectacular handiwork. My gardens have never looked so lovely.”

His sister had planned and executed a simple church wedding and modest afternoon luncheon of astonishingly tasteful proportions. Their few guests were feasting on turtle soup and potted lobster beneath a hastily erected canopy of striped canvas. A violin player and a harpist played something appropriately matrimonial.

Only one oddity in the arrangements gave him pause. “I am curious about the Indian figures on the table,”

he said. “Your idea?”

“No, Louisa’s, actually. She thought they might please you.”

“I see.” He wondered if his wife knew that the carved wood sculptures were of devadasis, Indian temple dancers of a decidedly sensual character. He would have to tell her later, if only to see her blush. He liked making her blush.

“Louisa went all the way to Petticoat Lane to find them,” Regina added. He frowned. “She didn’t go alone, I hope.” That part of town was dangerous.

“She had a footman with her.” Regina shot him a glance. “But I do hope you realize that Louisa is used to moving about London as she pleases.”

“I know that only too well,” he said tersely.

“You have to understand—she’s had a very difficult time these past seven years. Bad enough she had to endure the rumors about Marcus and her mother once she came into society, but then you and she…

well, the gossip plagued her after you went off to India. I thought for a while that her friendship with Princess Charlotte might help, but then Charlotte died in childbirth and it devastated her.”

“She was there?”

“Of course not. They did not allow the single ladies to attend the princess.” She sighed. “But it still affected Louisa profoundly. I think that’s why she throws herself into the London Ladies. It gives her life some purpose.”

His fingers tightened on his glass. “Well, she need not do that anymore. She has me. Our life together. And soon, I hope, our children.”

“Yes, but do not rush her. It is a huge change for her, so please try to understand. This has happened so fast.”

“Of course.” It was the least he owed her after how he had manipulated her into marrying him. Though he did not regret that in the least.

“I do wish you had chosen to wait a while longer to marry.”

“You know we could not risk the gossip. And Louisa did not want to take time out of her activities to plan a more elaborate wedding.” Nor had he wanted to chance her having second thoughts. The sooner he secured her as his wife, the better.

“But why not a wedding trip? It would be better for you both.”

“We will, after Parliament is no longer in session.” He smiled thinly. “If I can tear Louisa away from the London Ladies Society, that is. I should never have suggested that Christmas project. I will be lucky to get her alone for two days, much less two weeks.”

“You should carry her to Brighton. She loves the sea, you know.”

“Does she?” He had not known. Indeed, there was much he did not know about his wife.

“She always loved going there with the king and Princess Charlotte.” Regina frowned. “And speaking of His Majesty, I am quite put out with him. I cannot believe he did not attend the wedding or the supper. Louisa is very hurt by his not coming, and I don’t blame her.”

Nor did Simon. But he did have a sneaking suspicion about why the king had not come. One that put a decided damper on his day.

She sighed. “I suppose it’s because of your being at odds with him, but I honestly do not understand that. If Louisa and Draker and I are content with the marriage, I do not see how he could continue in his disapproval of you.”

“His Majesty is fickle, as you well know,” he hedged, reluctant to lie to his sister. Louisa had not been the only person he had wronged seven years ago. His sister had forgiven him, but that almost made it worse, for it emphasized what an ass he’d been to her back then.

“Nonetheless…” She slanted a glance at Simon. “You have nothing to do with his not being here, do you?”

“Of course not.”

If he’d had his way, the king would be waiting in his study right now to hand him Liverpool’s resignation. Simon had tried to see George ever since Louisa had agreed to the marriage, but His Majesty’s lackeys had always made excuses for why the man was unavailable.

It was the only black spot in this affair. Simon scowled. He would not be surprised if the king was already trying to renege on their agreement.

And if he was?

Then Simon would work around it. Despite his threat of going to the press, Simon could never shame Louisa like that. But surely there were other ways of making the king keep his promise, and Simon would use them if he must.

Later. “Tell me something, sister. How much longer must I endure this luncheon before I can forcibly evict our guests without appearing rude?”

She laughed. “Patience, brother. I still haven’t even served the cake.”

“Then serve it, for God’s sake.”

“After waiting all these years for your wedding night,” she teased, “I should think another hour would not kill you.”

“Another hour?” he growled, sending her hurrying off, laughing. She had no idea. After seven years, even another minute might kill him.

Unfortunately, it was more like two hours before they said good-bye to the last of the guests, and even longer before he could hustle Draker and Regina off. By the time they left, the setting sun already glistened on the verdant meadows of Green Park opposite Foxmoor House. As the door closed behind them, Simon turned to Louisa with a frown. “I do believe your brother meant to spend the night here.”

She laughed. “He was merely tormenting you, I expect.”

“It’s a good thing he relented,” Simon said as he tugged her into his arms. “Because if I’d had to wait one more second to have you to myself, sweetheart, I might have tossed him bodily into the street.”

He kissed her, a long, thorough kiss that only whetted his appetite. They’d had no chance to be alone in the last four days, and just the taste of her drove him insane. “It is long past time that we retire, wife,” he murmured against her lips.

With a coy smile, she pushed away from him. “Not yet, Your Grace. You have to give me the chance to prepare.”

“You look perfectly prepared to me—”

“I want to change into the special nightdress I bought.” Her eyes twinkled as she backed toward the stairs. “You’ll like it. It’s of the sheerest fabric—”

“Unless it’s transparent, I’m not interested.” He stalked her ruthlessly.

“Ten minutes. That’s all I need.” Her teasing smile faltered. “Please?”

Do not rush her, Regina had said.

He sighed. “Fine. I’ll go make sure no one let Raji out of my study.”

“Thank you,” she said, her smile ablaze once more.

His heart flipped over in his chest as she went up the stairs, hips swaying. Besotted fool, his grandfather’s voice intruded, the first time in days. The man was right. All she had to do was smile and swing her hips, and he leapt to give her whatever she wanted. Well, he could afford to be indulgent, couldn’t he? He had convinced her to marry him. She was his duchess now, and nothing could change that.

His duchess. He liked the sound of that.

Smiling, he headed for his study and found the door ajar. He glanced inside, but his pet was gone, of course. Gritting his teeth, he hailed a footman. “Find Raji and shut him in my study, will you?”

As the footman scurried off to do his bidding, Simon put his pet from his mind and headed for the east wing. Seconds later, he was entering his wife’s bedchamber after she answered his knock with a throaty,

“Come in.”

The sight that arrested him stole the breath from his lungs. With her velvety black hair rippling over her shoulders, Louisa stood beside the great state bed in a confection of sheerest linen. Like a fine glaze over her porcelain skin, it revealed as much as it concealed, highlighting the crimson buds of her nipples and glistening over the dark smudge of her pretty mons.

As his cock went on instant alert, he kicked the door shut behind him. A smile trembled on her full lips. “Do you like it?”

“You could say that, sweetheart.” Shrugging out of his coat, he strode toward her. “I mean to rip it off you with my teeth.”

Her smile broadened. “I bought three just the same.”

“Good.” As he went, he unbuttoned his waistcoat and tore his cravat loose, then left them crumpled on the floor. “I will rip them off, too.”

“They were very costly,” she teased. “And I charged them to your account.”

He caught her about the waist and dragged her flush against him. “All the more reason for me to do as I please with them.”

When she chuckled, he grasped the ribbon ties in his teeth to tug them loose. But before he could proceed further, a shrieking mass of fur landed on his back.

He swore as Raji pulled at his hair like a demon possessed. “Bloody hell, not again!’ he growled as he reached back to grab his pet, then wrench him off.

With Raji protesting, Simon held him at arm’s length. “Sorry, scamp, but this is one battle you will lose. She married me, not you, and you simply have to accept it.” Louisa’s laughter spilled over them, and he scowled at her. “This is not funny.”

“Of course it is,” she sputtered between bursts of hilarity. “He’s defending my virtue, poor thing.”

As if in agreement, Raji chattered and struggled in Simon’s grip.

“He can defend it all he wants—in another part of the house.” He turned and strode for the door.

“Where are you going?” she called out behind him.

“To deposit him in my study,” he shot back. “I’d throw him in the dressing room, but his caterwauling would drive us insane.”

When he yanked open the door, she cried, “Wait!” Then she hurried over to kiss Raji on the forehead. The little devil stopped his complaining long enough to gaze up at her with worshipful eyes.

“It’s all right, dear,” she whispered.

Simon rolled his eyes. “Don’t encourage him, for God’s sake.”

The sound of her laughter followed him out.

He strode down the stairs with his grumbling pet. He passed a footman, who cried, “Your Grace, I should tell you—”

“Later,” he barked. “Tomorrow. Next week.”

Hurrying into the study, he set Raji free, then froze. The king himself was bent over his desk, opening drawers and peering inside them. “What the devil—”

“Foxmoor!” The king had the good grace to look guilty. “I…was too late for the wedding, so I figured I’

d duck in here and—”

“Search my desk?” Then he noticed the envelope lying there. “Is that Liverpool’s resignation?”

George turned a sickly shade. “Er…not exactly.”

Chapter Seventeen

Dear Cousin,

Passion is all well and good, but better that a man give a woman love. I have had passion—it does not last. For Louisa’s sake, I hope that the duke’s passion comes from something deeper than the needs of his body.

Your cousin,

Charlotte

L ouisa was still giggling in her new bedchamber when she spotted Raji’s wooden canary beneath a writing table. Apparently that was where he had hidden to spy on them. Poor Raji. She would have to find him a female monkey, because Simon’s obvious affection for the scamp was clearly no longer enough to satisfy him.

With a sigh, she retrieved the toy, then wondered what she should do with it. She didn’t want Raji to do without the one companion he did have. Bad enough he was banished to the study for the night. After pulling on a dressing gown, she hurried out the bedroom door. Simon must have taken the stairs at a run, for he was already nowhere to be seen. But she’d been to Foxmoor House many a time with Regina while Simon was away, so she knew exactly where the study was. She hummed to herself as she strolled down the stairs. What a silly goose she was. Despite her initial misgivings about marrying Simon, she hadn’t been able to stop smiling for the past four days. His reaction to seeing her nightdress certainly helped. Perhaps this was not such a mistake. Simon had agreed to her terms, so she needn’t fear for the London Ladies. And she had her sponges—one was lodged inside her at this very moment. The shopkeeper in Spitalfields had said that they didn’t always work, but it was better than nothing, wasn’t it?