UNCOMMON DUKE, AN (10 page)

Gabriel moved his hands and tried to unfasten all the tiny corded loops on her back. It felt like hours before he was able to slide the sleeves of her gown down her shoulders. She pushed against his chest, stood and shimmied out of her gown till it pooled at her feet.

If their heated kisses hadn’t made his body burn, the outline of Olivia’s curvaceous form through her chemise with the light from the fireplace behind her was incinerating him.

Jumping to his feet, he kissed her hard, trying to give his body time to calm down enough so he wasn’t throwing her over the chair and pounding into her.

She moaned and it almost did him in.

He tugged on the silk ribbon of her stays and she broke the kiss to remove it. Their eyes locked. He took hold of the linen near her thigh, lifted her chemise over her head and threw it behind her. A faint
whoosh
sound came from the fireplace and the firelight flared. They looked in unison as the remnants of her chemise were swallowed up by the flames. She shifted her open-mouthed stare to him, then pressed her lips firmly together.

‘I’ll buy you twenty more,’ he said and sucked on the tip of her breast until her back bowed.

She was so warm—and tasted so good. He practically tore off his trousers before he lavished attention on the other breast. He needed to be inside her and he was going to do it now in that chair. Olivia let out a soft gasp when he picked her up and tugged her down onto his lap.

Within minutes she shifted and straddled him again. The feel of her warmth as she slid down over him brought a groan from his lips. He didn’t even need to move her. She was setting a rhythm on her own. He was in heaven. Nothing existed outside this room and the only thing he was aware of was the woman above him. He dropped his head back as she picked up the pace and rotated her hips. His hands fell away at his sides. She could do anything to him at that moment and he would let her. He would grant her any request.

It was impossible to steady his breathing when he watched himself enter Olivia—again and again. The delicious friction would soon be his undoing.

He needed to go deeper inside of her and coaxed her to shift positions so she was kneeling on the seat of the wingback chair facing away from him and he was standing behind her. The first time he entered her, he drove himself so deep he almost came with that first thrust. He tried to hold back his release as long as he could, entering her again and again. Eventually his mind shattered into a million pieces as he came. When she let out a raspy cry and her body collapsed against the chair, he knew she had found her pleasure again.

Dropping his head down on her back, he wrapped his arms tightly around her limp form. The erratic pounding of her heart matched his own. He had no notion how long they remained that way, just that he had the strongest desire not to let her go—ever. It was a notion that unsettled him.

Eventually he released her. Her cascading sable hair shone in the firelight, the pins were lost somewhere in and around his chair. She looked sinful. She looked like a woman thoroughly satisfied. She looked like a woman he would have an impossible time putting aside again.

He sat back in the chair, cradling her on his lap.

When her lips rose into a mischievous grin, that dimple he always adored appeared on her left cheek. ‘This was entirely your idea.’

‘I take full responsibility for the state you are in,’ he replied, placing a kiss on her nose.

‘Good. I am glad we agree I was the innocent party in this episode.’

‘If I do not contradict that statement, will you agree to such episodes in the future?’

She ran her fingers through the strands of his hair. Gabriel was positive it was standing on ends, making him look rather ridiculous. ‘You burned my chemise,’ she stated simply.

‘You made me ruin one of my favourite waistcoats and I have a neckcloth lying on the
floor
.’

‘What will the servants think?’ she teased.

He trailed a finger down her neck to the swell of her breasts and then the valley between. ‘I’d venture to think the maids will be shocked to finds buttons and pins scattered around this rug come morning.’

She really had beautiful breasts. Just as he began circling the tip of one with his finger, it hardened to a delicious bud. He would never grow tired of eliciting a reaction from her.

‘We should go upstairs,’ she suggested. ‘The staff will be up and about soon, and I would not want them finding us like this.’

She was just too tempting. He lowered his mouth and ran his tongue around her nipple. ‘Like what?’

She pushed his shoulder playfully. ‘Do stop, Gabriel, unless you can finish what you are attempting to start.’

He placed his hand over his heart. ‘You wound me, madam.’

‘Your sense of self-worth is quite large. You can easily withstand the small wounds I can inflict.’

But could he? And why did Gabriel get the sense that the wounds she could inflict on him were worse than those given by anyone else?

He helped her to stand. ‘The rain has stopped.’ Then he glanced down. ‘I am still wearing my shoes and stockings.’

‘It appears so. At least you will have an easier time dressing. What will I do without my chemise?’

‘Here.’ He picked up his shirt and lowered it over her body. The hem came down to her knees.

‘I am not even remotely respectable in this.’

He looked up from buttoning his trousers. She was right. If anything she looked wanton—like a woman who knew how to coax a man into her bed and keep him there for days. Her breasts were visible through the linen of his shirt, and he instinctively licked his lips.

‘See.’

‘It’s late. No one will see you. However if you truly are that concerned how you look...’ He took his waistcoat with the missing buttons and helped her into it. Then he picked up his cravat and draped it loosely around her neck a few times. ‘That’s better.’

She eyed him sideways. ‘Somehow I do not believe I would be admitted to Almack’s dressed like this.’

‘Dressed like that, it would be best if I never saw you anywhere near Almack’s—or anywhere else for that matter.’ Thoughts of her in Manning’s studio flooded his brain and he unclenched his fist.

‘Never fear, I can assure you this will be the last time I will be wearing your clothes.’

The statement, uttered so casually, left him disconcerted. Focusing his attention on his wife’s bottom as she bent down to retrieve her slippers and gown, Gabriel ran his hand up the inside of her thigh, making her jump.

‘Are you trying to seduce me, Gabriel? At your age, I would think you would not have the stamina.’

‘I think we should find out.’

When he grabbed for her as she ran to the door, her laughter filled the room. He cursed his stupidity for not locking the door earlier when he invited her inside.

He was about to throw her over his shoulder to take her up to his bedchamber and prove to her that he had the stamina of a young buck, when he noticed she stood frozen in the open doorway. Stepping behind her, he looked over her head and saw a flustered Bennett with one of the upstairs maids. The young girl’s eyes were wide as she looked at Olivia and they opened wider when she spotted Gabriel’s bare chest.

Quickly he pushed Olivia behind him and motioned for them to enter the room as if nothing unusual had occurred. Turning slowly while keeping Olivia behind him, he backed her out into the darkened hall and closed the door.

‘I wonder if Bennett will ever recover?’ she mused.

‘He has been exposed to our scandalous ways in the past.’

‘Yes, but I do not recall him ever finding us in such a state.’

‘Colette appears to have recovered nicely from her shock. The last time I saw her, she bobbed her curtsy to me with only a slight blush.’

‘Well, she did see a rather different side of you.’

Gabriel shifted uncomfortably, recalling how much of his backside his wife’s maid saw.

‘What time do you suppose it is?’ she asked.

From the window at the end of the hall, faint rays of light were casting bluish squares onto the floor. ‘Four?’

‘No, that cannot be possible.’

‘You did arrive home rather late. It must be four. Bennett watches over the cleaning of my study every morning at four.’

Olivia stopped ahead of him on the stairs. ‘Why?’

He gently prodded her to keep walking. ‘Why what?’

‘Why does Bennett oversee the maid?’

‘There are times I leave my papers about. He makes certain they are left undisturbed.’

‘But why not Mrs Mitchell? She is our housekeeper. I would think she would oversee the cleaning of your study.’

Why did she have to be so astute? ‘Because Bennett has been seeing to the study of the Duke of Winterbourne ever since I can remember. It is simply his domain.’

When they reached her bedchamber there was a distinct hesitation before she looked up at him. ‘Will you be coming inside?’

He reached around her and opened the door. As much as he wanted to, Gabriel knew he could not sleep for long. He had much to do. If he left her bed two hours from now, he might disturb her sleep. Or worse yet, sleeping next to Olivia might cause him to oversleep. He shook his head and kissed her cheek. ‘I will only disturb you when I rise.’

Was that disappointment he saw cross her face? In the dim light it was difficult to tell.

‘Very well, but I will be awake before seven for my portrait session.’

Muscles that had been wonderfully relaxed suddenly tightened up. He was just about to ask her why she was torturing him, when she placed a finger to his lips.

‘I assure you. No one will know I sat for it when it is exhibited. There is even the slight chance Mr West will not agree to include it.’

One could only hope.

They entered her room and he closed the door behind them. ‘Does Colette know she is to tell no one of your association with the painting?’

‘Of course.’

He should forbid her from continuing to sit for the artist, but it was clearly something that brought her joy. How could he cause her any more sorrow?

He tasted her lips one last time before pulling away and striding to the door to his bedchamber. As he placed his hand on the cool metal of the handle, he had the strongest urge to have one last look at her. She had not moved from where he had left her. ‘I may allow for these sittings, Livy, but I do not have to like it.’

* * *

When the door closed, Olivia’s slippers and clothes fell from her hands. Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to erase the memory of him standing near her bed without his shirt. His scent was on the shirt he’d placed on her, and she rubbed her arms over the soft linen. Instead of tearing it off, she decided it would be comfortable to sleep in.

She lit one of the candles flanking the mirror on her dressing table and peered at her reflection. She looked like a woman who’d spent the night rolling around in bed with her lover—only they had not used a bed—and those memories would not be easy to forget.

Closing her eyes and rubbing her forehead didn’t help. Breathing deeply made no difference either. Every nerve in her body was tingling because she couldn’t stop thinking about having Gabriel deep inside of her. She groaned and lowered her head to her arms.

Going back to a celibate life after they conceived another child was supposed to be the easy part. Now Olivia wasn’t sure that would be true. Her body felt alive again. Making love to him made her feel desirable. It made her feel powerful. It was addictive—or perhaps that was Gabriel.

Janvier had kissed her. Olivia knew if she showed the least bit of encouragement he would take her to his bed—or in his carriage. She did not believe he would be very particular.

But she felt nothing from his kiss; no spark of passion, no desire to straddle him and no fierce need to have him all to herself. Those feelings were reserved for her husband.

Gabriel had said some lovely things to her tonight. He’d even apologised for his behaviour—an act that was unprecedented. Why was he being so nice?

Olivia grabbed her hairbrush and pulled it through her hair with forceful strokes, attempting to rattle her brain enough that she would stop considering his feelings about her. She was a grown woman who understood how the world worked. It was rare to have a marriage based on love. There were only a few marriages she knew of that were. While it might be painful to witness the looks those men gave their wives, long ago she’d accepted her husband would never look at her that way. She had been dealt a different hand in life and now she accepted that.

She was giving herself a headache, not to mention her eyes were having trouble staying open. Blowing out the candles, she crawled under the blankets and arranged all the pillows snugly around her. Their weight and warmth made her feel secure. Closing her eyes, she wondered if she really would manage to wake before seven o’clock.

Chapter Twelve

I
t felt as if she had been asleep for only five minutes when Olivia heard Colette humming. Placing one of her many pillows over her head to muffle the noise, Olivia rolled onto her stomach. There was definite activity in her dressing room with the splashing sound of water being poured into her tub. She would never fall back to sleep now. Tossing the pillow aside, she opened her eyes.

She spied Colette shaking out the dress that she had worn last night and then retreat into her dressing room. Peering over the edge of her bed, she scanned the floor and saw no other evidence of how she had spent the evening.

Her maid re-entered the bedchamber and stopped when she saw Olivia was awake.

‘Why are you humming?’

Bobbing a respectful curtsy, Colette had no luck suppressing her smile. ‘Please forgive me if I woke you. It’s a lovely morning.’

Olivia thought it would be better if she were able to sleep longer. ‘What is the commotion in my dressing room?’

‘His Grace ordered a bath to be ready for you at seven. He said you were not to be disturbed until then.’

Olivia rubbed her brow and stood, allowing Colette to help her into her dressing gown. ‘What about Nicholas? Surely he did not bar Nicholas from entering my room.’

‘I do not believe so. However, His Grace did have breakfast with his lordship in the nursery already. Perhaps that is why he did not wake you today.’

‘The Duke ate in the nursery?’

‘Yes, madam.’

Her world was becoming a very strange place. First her husband appeared to have suddenly grown attracted to her again and now he was eating breakfast with their son.

The heat from the bath water was a balm for the areas of her body that were a bit tender after the vigorous activities of last night. She was not going to think about the thoughtful gesture on Gabriel’s part. She was not going to reminisce about the times after rather spirited nights of love making, when Gabriel had ordered a bath drawn for her in the morning. And she absolutely was not about to consider why he’d left William Cowper’s translation of the
Iliad
on the table next to her bath.

* * *

Gabriel was in excellent spirits as he made his way to see Prinny at Carlton House. Although he checked on Nicholas each morning, today he’d decided to have breakfast with him. Spending time with his son in the nursery brought back fond memories of when his own father had sat in that very room playing with Gabriel and his three brothers.

Perhaps his house might once again be the very noisy place it had been when Gabriel was a child. The image of playing blind man’s bluff with Olivia in her picture gallery with four or five children dashing about made him smile. There was no reason they needed to stop at two children.

His carriage rocked to a stop under the
porte-cochêre
of Carlton House and he looked out at the immense Corinthian columns. He needed to shake her from his mind long enough to focus on his duty to protect Prinny. But as he made his way down the hall to Prinny’s private apartment, Gabriel couldn’t help wondering if Olivia was enjoying the bath he had arranged for her. He glanced at his watch and pictured her smooth skin glistening in the water at that very moment.

Once again he arrived as Prinny was sitting down to breakfast, this time in the Gothic Dining Room. The Regent painted a lonely picture, sitting by himself at the enormous table in the long panelled room normally used for dinner parties. As Gabriel crossed the threshold, Prinny motioned with his fork for Gabriel to sit.

‘This marks a change for you,’ Gabriel said, taking the seat to his right. ‘I had not thought you ever took breakfast in this room.’

Prinny swallowed a mouthful of ham and reached for his glass of wine. ‘I never do. But you have me held up in this fortress for a week and I am growing bored of my rooms.’ A bored Prinny was not a good thing. ‘Fill up a plate and join me, Winter.’

‘Thank you, but I have already eaten this morning.’ There was no mistaking the meaning behind the pursed lips of his host. ‘However, I am sure I can find something to tempt me.’

That appeared to appease Prinny, because his mouth curved into a smile for the first time since Gabriel had entered the room. A plate and utensils were laid out before him and he accepted a cup of coffee to be polite rather than quench his thirst. Stirring sugar into his cup, Gabriel tried to find the perfect way to break the news that they were no closer to finding the person who wanted Prinny dead. He decided to be direct.

‘You have said nothing about my new painting,’ Prinny said, motioning with his fork to a painting that hung over the sideboard.

So they would make small talk first. Gabriel took a cursory glance at the painting of people. ‘It’s quite nice.’

Prinny snorted. ‘Quite nice, he says. Quite nice is that cup in your hand. That, my friend, is a stunning example of an Italian master. Part of a collection owned by Boney’s sister, Pauline.’

Gabriel looked back at the painting and then at Prinny, who had shifted his attention back to his breakfast. ‘How in the world did you acquire that?’

‘Olivia.’

‘My Olivia?’ Gabriel choked out, his eyes widening.

Prinny’s hand paused with his glass halfway to his lips. ‘What ho?
My Olivia?
Careful or you may catch yourself sounding like a man who actually cares for his wife.’

Not up for being baited, Gabriel knew enough to ignore the comment. For years Prinny had admonished him about the state of his marriage with Olivia while he went about ignoring both of his wives and taking a number of mistresses.

How was it that Olivia would know about a painting that belonged to Napoleon’s sister? ‘How did Olivia help you acquire that?’

‘She was approached to authenticate the piece and told me about it. Capital gel, that wife of yours. This is the painting you took me to purchase. In fact, she was originally to accompany me to Mr Owen’s that day, but she needed to be home to personally see to the last-minute arrangements for your boy’s breeching ceremony.’

Olivia would have been in the carriage that day? Ice crept along Gabriel’s veins as he thought how close she had been to lying dead in a pool of blood.

‘I suppose,’ Prinny continued, breaking into his thoughts, ‘I could have postponed the purchase, but I was too eager to see it so I contacted you instead.’

‘I am surprised you did not go on your own.’

‘Olivia said Owen was skittish and the royal carriage would have attracted too much attention in that area.’ He began cutting into his ham and eyed Gabriel’s untouched plate. ‘I imagine you ate something delicious for breakfast. I always enjoy a meal at Winterbourne House. Say...what if I stay with you until you catch the villain trying to do me in?’ His expression held all the excitement of a little boy with a master plan.

‘That’s not an option. We want people to believe you are forgoing all your engagements because you have the gout. If it becomes known there was an attempt on your life, it could provoke others to try to do the same. Have you forgotten that eighteen years ago your father faced two assassination attempts in one day? That second attempt might have been driven by the first. I will not take that chance with you.’

Prinny sucked his teeth, determination shining in his eyes. ‘Well, I could have the gout at your house. That would not be unheard of.’

‘No, you cannot. Have you already forgotten you were shot at riding in my carriage? You are safest here with the Guards protecting you. You also do not even appear to be a man afflicted. I believe people would notice.’

‘Oh, pish!’ he said, waving a fork in the air. ‘Olivia already knows I do not have the gout.’

Gabriel’s heart stopped. ‘How do you know that?’

‘Because she came to call on me.’

‘When? You are not supposed to have any visitors outside the few people we agreed upon. Who else have you seen?’

‘Only Hart and Andrew, but they are on the list. Really, Winter, I realise you do not speak to her, but she is your wife. I assumed you would give your consent and it was safe. More importantly, the dear gel brought me marzipan.’

‘Which you should not have eaten because you have the gout,’ Gabriel said with more force than he should have.

Prinny looked down at his plate and cut into more of his ham while he mumbled something under his breath.

‘You did not eat any of the marzipan in front of Olivia, did you?’

Prinny tossed his fork on his plate. ‘Demmit, man, I rule this country and if I want to eat marzipan, I damn well will eat marzipan!’

Gabriel closed his eyes and pressed his thumb against his brow. He counted to ten. When he opened his eyes he caught Prinny’s pointed stare. How was it possible that this man did not realise the danger he was in? He wanted to chastise him like a child. Instead he took a deep breath and composed his voice.

‘You ate all the marzipan.’

Prinny looked away. ‘I might have.’ Digging into the butter with his knife, he looked back at Gabriel. ‘It is only Olivia. And since she already knows I am not afflicted with the gout, what say you I stay at your house? You can protect me there.’

‘No, and why do you believe she knows you do not have the gout?’

‘Well I did eat all the marzipan, and she told me I appeared to be doing quite well when we went for our...’

‘Your what?’

‘Oh, bloody hell, this is ridiculous. I defeated Napoleon, for God’s sake. I went for a walk. In my garden. With your wife. There, I said it.’

Gabriel pressed his thumb against the bridge of his nose, praying it would prevent his brain from exploding onto the table. ‘Your gardens are adjacent to the park.’

‘You do not have to tell me that. I’m the one who lives here!’

‘And whose idea was it to go for a walk in the garden?’

‘It was Olivia’s. But in all fairness, the gel is unaware of the danger I am in.’

The hairs on the back of Gabriel’s neck rose and he rubbed them through his collar.

‘I cannot look at these walls for another day,’ Prinny continued. ‘You must find whoever is behind this and put their plans to rest. Olivia believes Nettleford will have lobster cakes at his ball next week. Lobster cakes! I have things to attend to and places I need to be. The world is moving and I am standing still.’ He buttered a slice of toast. ‘At least tell me you are closer to finding out who is behind the shooting.’

‘The man who shot you is dead.’

Prinny’s knife clattered to his plate. ‘Dead? How is that possible? He was being held at the Tower. To my knowledge there was no hanging.’

‘He did not face the gallows. Although there was no blood nor sign of a struggle, it appears he was murdered.’

The colour left Prinny’s face and beads of sweat formed on his forehead. ‘Poison.’

‘We believe so.’

Prinny looked down at his food as one would a gutter rat and pushed his plate away.

‘You are safe here,’ Gabriel tried to reassure him. ‘And if that were poisoned, I assure you, you would be dead by now.’

‘Murdered? But how is that possible when he was being held at the Tower?’

‘I am not entirely certain, but I assure you I will find out.’

Prinny drained his wine and motioned for more. ‘You need to find him.’

‘We will. But for the love of all that is holy, do not leave this house, do not see anyone else and trust no one.’

* * *

Gabriel entered his house frustrated they hadn’t yet uncovered who was behind the assassination attempt. There was unrest up north and in the streets of London. Many people were unhappy with Prinny for the cost of his extravagant lifestyle. The threat could have come from anywhere.

He was about to walk into his study and write a note to Andrew when Bennett gave a discreet cough.

‘Lord Hartwick is waiting for you in the Gold Drawing Room, sir.’

‘The Gold Drawing Room?’ Gabriel echoed, reconfirming the location.

‘Yes, sir. I felt it was the safest place to keep his lordship while he waited for you.’

Striding into the room, he found Hart seated at one of the game tables with a row of cards laid out before him. He was just about to lower the Queen of Hearts onto one of the piles when he spied Gabriel.

‘It’s about time. I don’t know how many more rounds of patience I could play before I grew bored enough to begin searching for hidden passageways.’

This was why Bennett was so indispensable. ‘There are no hidden passageways.’ At least none that he wanted Hart to know about.

Hart lowered the card and picked up a glass of what Gabriel assumed was his finest brandy. ‘Bennett would not allow me to wait in your study, which I believe would have been infinitely more interesting than poking about here. By the way, one of your gardeners enjoys taking a nip from the bottle as he prunes your shrubbery. If Her Grace has noticed a lack of blooms recently, it’s because he is cutting them off and disposing of them along with the dead branches.’

‘I take it this is not a social call?’

‘At this hour? While I do enjoy our amusing conversations, you are correct. I have news. You may wish to lock the door.’

By the excited gleam in Hart’s blue eyes, Gabriel knew the news he had uncovered was of no trivial matter. He took his friend’s suggestion and locked the door before he took a seat at the table and waited for him to continue.

‘Have you determined who was providing the information on Prinny’s whereabouts to Mr Clarke?’ Hart asked, tossing his head to the side to shift a lock of hair out of his eyes.

‘I have not.’

‘Well, I have,’ he said through a smug smile.

Gabriel leaned forward and rested his arms on the table. ‘Who is it?’

Hart sat back in the chair and stretched his legs out. ‘I was at Lyonsdale House recently, when Julian mentioned the wedding portrait of his wife had been completed. Always the polite guest, I asked to see it.’

‘I do not understand what this has to do with the gunman.’

Hart leaned forward, their knuckles almost touching, ‘Because the signature on that portrait matched the handwriting on your note.’ He reclined back again and arched an arrogant brow.

‘You are certain?’