Why Dukes Say I Do (21 page)

“Yes,” she admitted. “But all of this is beside the point. I know just what sort of man Thistleback is and I know how to deal with him.”

“I suppose that paying him what he asks is your way of dealing with him?” Trevor demanded, frustration evident in his tone. “If you go about this your way then you’ll simply be paying the man fifty pounds a week for the rest of your days.”

Unable to remain seated, Isabella began to pace the summerhouse floor. “I cannot let him tell the polite world what I suffered at my husband’s hands,” she countered. “The
ton
might think me a bit wild now, but I will lose every bit of self-respect I have if it’s known by all and sundry just how Ralph degraded me. I cannot let Thistleback do that to me. I will not.”

“And I will not allow him to remain in Nettledean for one more day while he holds this threat over your head,” Trevor said hotly. “In fact, I will ride over to the Palmers’ first thing in the morning and demand that the blackguard leave at once.”

“You will do no such thing,” Isabella hissed, frustrated beyond all caring. “This is not your battle to fight. It is mine.”

“Yes,” he said, leaping up from the bench, “I see how you fight. By paying the bastard off.”

“Keep your voice down!” Isabella said through clenched teeth. “Do you wish to rouse the household? I cannot think that you wish to be discovered with me in the summerhouse in the middle of the night.”

“Do not tell me to lower my voice!” Trevor said, though he did speak in a quieter tone.

“And,” he added, taking her by the upper arms, “I will be discovered in the summerhouse with whomever I please.”

And on that nonsensical note he kissed her.

Eleven

Despite the fact that she’d been longing for his kiss for days, Isabella was taken off guard.

It was the only explanation she could find for her utter devastation when Trevor took her in his arms. His lips were soft, and as they moved over hers Isabella found it difficult to believe that finally, finally, they were touching. Though she would have denied it if anyone had asked her if she desired such a thing even minutes before now, she knew now that she had been longing to feel his hands, his lips, his body, against hers from the beginning. And when he pulled her closer, opening his mouth over hers, she felt every last resistance melt away into nothingness, leaving in its place acceptance and an eagerness that Isabella could no longer deny.

She reveled in the feel of him against her, from the bristle of his unshaven cheeks to the solid strength of his shoulders and back beneath her hands. Everywhere their bodies touched, she felt the heat of their connection.

More than just physical, theirs was a meeting of two wounded souls. Isabella couldn’t have said how she knew it, but deep within her she knew that Trevor had been damaged somewhere along the way. Perhaps not in the same way that Isabella had been, but there were different types and degrees of hurt. And she knew that Trevor had experienced it.

Giving in to the mix of desperation and desire that threatened to consume her, Isabella let her hands roam, slipping one into the open collar of his shirt, stroking against the hot skin of his throat and chest. When he slid one hand up to cup her breast, she gasped and slipped her other arm up to tangle in the soft curls at his neck.

In a silence punctuated only by occasional gasps of pleasure, they explored each other with the tactile curiosity of new lovers. And it wasn’t long before restlessness had her shifting in his lap, trying to soothe the ache between her thighs. With a groan part pleasure, part pain, Trevor moved his hips beneath her. “Ah, god, Isabella, stop. For pity’s sake.”

Biting her lip against the feel of his hardness pressed against her softness, Isabella brought her mouth to his ear and whispered, “You do not seem to wish it.” As if to prove her point, she rubbed herself against the bulge in his breeches.

Panting, he leaned his forehead against hers and said in a strained voice, “I do not want to take you here. It’s not fitting.”

And just like that, she remembered just where they were. And why they were here. The pulse of desire that had felt so desperate seconds before was replaced with embarrassment.

Making as if to scramble off of him, Isabella tried to shift away but found herself in a hard grasp. Trevor kissed her gently and ran a finger down over the slope of her nose. “You deserve better,” he said softly. “You deserve the best. And the best is not a lumpy bench seat in a summerhouse where anyone might stumble upon us.”

She had not thought him capable of surprising her more, but Isabella felt her mouth fall open at his declaration. She’d never considered herself an overly sentimental sort, but Trevor’s words brought forth a lump of emotion in her chest that no amount of common sense could dispel. When had a man ever thought so much of her that he chose to defer his own needs in order to satisfy hers?

“You are right,” she said, afraid that he would hear the tremor in her voice. She realized just how close she’d been to giving herself to a man she had known for less than a week. It was slightly shocking. She had vowed when Ralph died that she would never put herself in a man’s power without first learning all she could about him. And yet here she was placing herself in danger all because of a handsome face.

Did the duke even like her, she wondered, much less hold her in the sort of esteem she would need to ever submit to the sort of relationship they’d been about to embark upon? She knew that he was a good man. She’d seen that time and again in his dealings with his sisters. But it was his dealings with her that she needed to know more about.

“Come with me and we’ll discuss it further,” he said roughly, pulling her by the hand out of the summerhouse and up the path into the house through the French doors of the study.

They’d just crossed the threshold of the room when a gasp from the bookshelves made them both stop, startled like children caught out in a misdeed.

“Trevor!” Belinda gasped. “Lady Wharton! Whatever were you doing out in the garden at this hour?”

To Isabella’s amusement, Trevor’s fair skin betrayed him, a flush creeping up his neck, his cheeks, and finally to the tips of his ears. “What are you doing awake at this hour, Bel?” he countered. It was the purview of elder brothers the world round to dodge questions from their sisters, it would seem.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she said with a frown, her blue eyes narrowed. Isabella felt a flush creep into her own cheeks. “Where were you?” Belinda repeated.

Before Trevor could evade his sister’s question again, Isabella jumped in. “We were admiring the stars,” she said easily. “One doesn’t get to see them nearly as well in London. I was afraid I’d be set upon by wandering cattle, so I had your brother accompany me. For protection of course.”

Isabella felt both Carey siblings stare at her. “Are there cows or sheep loose on the moors?” Belinda asked with a frown. “I’d heard that one of Mr. Palmer’s tenants had a cow get out, but I think the farthest she got was Mr. Davies’ pasture.”

Trevor’s lips twitched. “No, I don’t think it’s a big problem for us at Nettlefield,” he said. “But one can never be too cautious.”

He and Belinda exchanged a look that Isabella read to mean “look how foolish the lady from London is.” She was more than happy to sacrifice her pride for the sake of Belinda’s innocence. Good lord, what if the child had come out to the summerhouse? They wouldn’t have been able to explain that away.

“I had never thought that you might be as frightened at being in the country as Eleanor and I might be in the city,” Belinda said kindly. It was obvious, though, that she thought Isabella’s fears of wild cattle were bordering on insanity.

“Hadn’t you better get back to bed, Bel?” Trevor said briskly. “If you’ve found a book for yourself, that is.”

“Oh yes,” his sister responded, clasping a book to her chest. “Just a novel that Eleanor discarded ages ago. Will you walk up with me, Lady Isabella?”

Isabella risked a glance at Trevor, who shrugged behind his sister’s back. With a sigh of disappointment, she followed Belinda up the stairs to the family wing, and they paused outside the girl’s bedroom door.

Trevor, who had come up after them, said good night as he walked down the hall toward his own bedchamber. Isabella watched him go, and then turning to say her good nights to the girl, she found Belinda watching her curiously.

“What?” she asked, feeling the blush rise in her cheeks again. The child had the most intense way of pinning one down with her gaze. She would make a remarkable parent one day, Isabella mused. She already had the scolding look down pat.

Belinda was silent for a beat but then shrugged and shook her head. “Nothing, I suppose. I just got the oddest feeling that you and Trevor were up to something. You had the same look about you that Ellie and I have when we’re trying to get away with some mischief.” Isabella was trying to decide how best to respond when the girl laughed. “But that’s silly, isn’t it? Grown people like you and Trevor don’t get up to mischief, do they?”

If she only knew, thought Isabella as she bid Belinda good night and shut her bedchamber door behind her.

If she only knew.

*   *   *

The next morning, the day of the Palmer ball, Isabella woke with a start to find Belinda sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Finally,” the girl said, shaking her head in exasperation. “I thought you’d never awaken. Do you always sleep this late?”

Isabella was unaccustomed to children as a general rule, but she was even more unaccustomed to them waking her at dawn. Still, she gave a yawn and sat up. Just in time for her maid to come bustling in.

“I’m sorry, Lady Wharton,” Sanders said. She didn’t specify what she was sorry about, but Isabella could guess. “I’ll just got get your hot water.”

Coward, Isabella thought, turning back to Belinda. Isabella was suddenly grateful that Trevor hadn’t slipped back into her bedroom as she’d hoped he would last night. It would be quite difficult to explain his presence to his all-too-knowing little sister.

“What brings you here, Belinda? We did not have plans to go look at kittens or examine baby birds in their nests or some such animal adventure, did we? Besides, you were up quite late. Did you not feel the slightest bit of a need to linger in your bed this morning?”

“I never sleep in. There is always too much to see and do.” Belinda’s blue eyes, so like her brother’s, rolled in that particular way that only children and teens could manage. As if she found Isabella’s human frailty a bore. “It’s the day of the Palmers’ ball and we must prepare for it. There is so much to be done. So wake up and come help me.”

Since Belinda was too young to even attend the ball, Isabella was somewhat perplexed. “What is there to do?” she asked, not bothering to stifle a yawn. “You aren’t even going to the ball, if you don’t mind my saying so. What on earth have you to do for it?”

“It’s Eleanor,” the girl said with vehemence. “It is her first ball and I mean to ensure that she is the most popular young lady there.”

Somewhat bewildered by the girl’s demands, Isabella asked carefully, “And what is it we are meant to be doing to help her?”

“First of all,” Belinda explained in a manner that might better be employed in explaining the rules of cribbage to a toddler, “we must help her choose a gown. I know that Mrs. Renfrew was meant to send her one, but we need to see that it fits properly and if it doesn’t we need to find an alternative.

“Then we must ensure that her hair is styled perfectly,” she continued. “Then we should help her choose which reticule to bring. And so on and so forth.”

“But it is”—Isabella consulted the clock on the mantle across her bedchamber—“only nine fifteen in the morning. Surely, we should wait and do those things later in the day, when we are closer to leaving for the ball.”

“Oh, I know,” Belinda said with a shrug. “I just wanted to be sure that you knew we’d be needing your assistance later in the day.”

Biting back a sigh, Isabella simply nodded. On the one hand, the girl’s enthusiasm for her sister was endearing. On the other hand, Isabella had been up quite late and, since she hadn’t spent it being thoroughly ravished by the girl’s elder brother, she’d hoped to at least sleep a bit later than usual.

It was, however, not to be.

Her mission completed, Belinda got up from the bed. “I will just leave you to dress for the day.” Her eyes turned serious. “You won’t forget about Eleanor tonight, will you?”

Suddenly reminded that both girls had lost their mother and were desperately in need of guidance from a woman, Isabella nodded. Impulsively she hugged the girl. Isabella was not, as a general rule, a demonstrative person, but some situations simply cried out for a show of affection. And to her pleasure, Belinda hugged her back. “I won’t forget her,” Isabella told her.

Stepping back, Belinda smiled brightly. “I knew you wouldn’t let us down.”

As the girl left the bedchamber, Isabella wondered what would happen to the girls when she left to go back to London. She had genuinely grown fond of them and didn’t like to imagine them here in the country without any guidance from a woman of their own social standing. What would happen when Eleanor began attending more social functions? What if one of the neighborhood boys attempted to persuade her into more than just a few kisses? Who would she go to with questions? Trevor was a conscientious brother, but a girl could hardly confide the details of her personal life to her brother.

Still ruminating on the situation, Isabella flung off the bedclothes. If she was awake, she might as well go down to breakfast.

Her ablutions made, she donned a pretty blue morning gown and allowed her maid to dress her hair.

“Mr. Templeton asked me to tell you that the paintings you did with the young ladies the other day are dry now,” Sanders said as she patted one last curl into place. Isabella surveyed herself in the mirror and reflected once again just how lucky she was to have found the woman so soon after her previous maid had left to return to her family in the country. Sanders might not have the most entertaining personality, but she was a wonder with hair. “He’s put them in the blue salon if you wish to see them.”