Dalliance with the Duchess (Seducing the Duchess #3)

Chapter Fifteen

N icholas stretched his arms above his head, enjoying the sated feeling in his body, and let his gaze rest on the woman at his side. Their lovemaking had exceeded even previous expectations, and not because it had been fast and glorious. Once more they had taken their time. He had kissed her until his head spun and touched her body as if he needed to memorize every inch of it. Not that he was likely to forget.

It felt as if she had slipped into his heart and soul and become a part of him.

He had realized, last night, when Gordon was there, that the three of them worked well together. He was no longer alone in this endeavor to find his sister, find Fern. He felt closer to an answer than ever before, and that awful sense of isolation had gone. Whatever they discovered, be it good or bad, he would not have to face it by himself.

Sunshine was leaking in through the curtains, dust motes dancing in the light, which meant it was probably late. He should have left hours ago and returned to his rooms. Mrs. Shirley would be wondering where he was and clicking her tongue that his breakfast was going to waste. But he didn’t care. He felt no urgency to rise and rush about. He wanted to stay right here, with Sophia, and wallow in the moment.

A tap on the bedchamber door startled him out of his complacency. Sophia woke and sat up, her hair cascading untidily about her, her dark eyes sleepy. She turned to look at Nicholas as if she were surprised to see him there, and then she smiled and leaned in to whisper in his ear.

“Stay here and be quiet.”

She laughed quietly as she pulled the covers up over his head. He gave a muffled chuckle in response, but lay still as she rose, her robe rustling as she drew it on, and went to the door. He could hear a female voice, and Sophia’s response, and then the door closed again. The mattress moved as she dispensed of her robe and climbed back onto the bed and drew down the covers.

He blinked up at her. “Who was it?”

“My new housekeeper, Marianne. She wants to begin work today. I would not want to dissuade her when she’s so keen.” She pulled a face as if she had something nasty in her mouth. “I haven’t told you about Marianne, have I?”

“No. Don’t you like her?”

“I like her very much, but it is a wonder you have not heard the gossip. I’m sure it won’t be long before tongues are wagging.” She settled herself against his chest, curling strands of his mat of dark hair with her fingers, and avoiding his gaze. “Marianne was Oldney’s mistress, and she bore him a son called Hugo. Now he is dead they have nowhere to go.”

He didn’t know what to say. He opened his mouth and then closed it as she continued to speak.

“I am doing this because I feel it is right.” She sounded as if she half expected him to reprimand her. Or warn her of the consequences of her action. “Marianne has done nothing wrong—none of this is her fault. She was living in Curzon Street.” She flicked Nicholas a glance. “Very handy for Oldney to pay her a visit whenever he felt like it. But after he died, Thatcher, his man of business, tossed her out onto the street. She has been staying with a friend in Lambeth. Hugo, Oldney’s son, is only eight and I just... I have no children of my own, so why shouldn’t I help? I have the means, and this is such a big house. It seems the perfect solution for them and me.”

He chose his words carefully. “You will be gaining a housekeeper who works harder than any other. Not because she aspires to a clean house but because of your kindness to her.”

She laughed but the humor soon faded from her eyes as she gazed into his. “It’s not that. You know it isn’t. I want to help. It is a good feeling, and it costs me very little.”

“Sophia the patron of the desperate,” he intoned seriously.

She pulled his chest hair and made him cry out, before he caught her hand in his. Warmth flared inside him, and he reached up as she met him halfway, kissing her lips with increasing passion.

His heart filled with something he didn’t want to admit—it was far too worrying that he should feel like this. Nicholas cupped her face, either side of the waterfall of her dark hair, and deepened the kiss. Desire was never far away from him when he was with Sophia, and now his cock hardened with wanting to be inside her. She wriggled under the covers, her naked body sliding against his, and sat up to straddle him.

Nicholas groaned. Her hand was on his hard length, stroking, and then she lifted herself up and set him at her entrance. Slowly, oh so slowly, she eased herself down until he was fully inside her.

“Sophia,” he gasped. “God, so good. Why is it always so good with you?”

She was sitting up straighter now, and her breasts were right there. He had to touch, and he leaned up to cover the tips with his mouth, one at a time, making her arch toward him, her eyes fluttering closed.

“I don’t know, but this feels wonderful,” she breathed.

She rested her hands on his chest, and he caught hold of her hips, helping as she lifted and lowered herself upon his shaft. She was panting a little, a pinch between her brows, as if she was concentrating on getting this exquisite moment just right.

He loved her.

Sophia cried out, clenching around him, and he came, too, with a wordless cry. Pleasure took hold of them, and they tumbled together into whatever heaven had been created just for them.

When she was again tucked against his side, her breath soft and warm against his cheek, he felt the need to say things. Things he had never said to anyone before. Personal, heartfelt things. But he bit his lip on them. Would they be welcome? This was very new, and not so long ago they had hated each other. No, Sophia would not want to hear them because this was supposed to be nothing more than a brief affair. She might even move on all the quicker if she believed he wanted more from her. That he might have fallen in love with her.

Sophia’s voice was soft against his skin. “My new housekeeper is seeing that a late breakfast is prepared. Will you stay?”

He let himself imagine it. Him sitting opposite Sophia, eating and sharing smiles, eyes meeting with memories of their intimate moments. He admitted he wanted nothing more than to stay for breakfast, but at the same time the sensible part of him instructed him that he must not. At least, not until he was sure of her feelings and what this mysterious phenomenon was between them.

“I need to go,” he said levelly. “But we should discuss what to do next about Gordon. And Fern.”

She was sitting up now, watching him, but he avoided her keen gaze.

“Yes, we should,” she answered mildly. “I am to meet Chatham and the others again tonight. They sent me an invitation to a hell I haven’t been to before. Lucifer’s.” She wrinkled her nose.

He didn’t like the name of the hell, nor the thought of her meeting with those vicious gentlemen. “When did they send this?”

“Last night. Webster gave me the note. Should I not go?” she asked with a teasing arch of her eyebrow. “Perhaps tonight I will learn what they intend to do to ruin Gordon. Not forgetting what they are going to do to you.”

That was true. She was in too deep now to back out, but he wished she would. The whole thing worried him, and if it weren’t for Gordon, and Fern, he might have told her to do just that. He was still angry about Fern going off with Arnold, angry with both the gentleman and his sister. Why hadn’t she told him or his father? Sophia was probably right—Fern had been weary of her life at the school and wanted adventure. Love and adventure. And there was no point in wasting his time on questions he could never answer. If he could find her, then he could ask her to explain everything to him. After he held her tight in his arms.

“You are worrying about your sister.”

Sophia’s soft voice brought him back to the moment, and he met her sympathetic gaze. “I am. I feel as if she is just out of reach, if only I can...”

She leaned in and kissed his jaw, nuzzling against the prickly beard he had growing. “Gordon will discover what happened. He is determined to give you the answer.”

He ran his hand over her hair. “I wish he didn’t think he owed me anything. I only did what anyone else would do when we were at school.”

“Nicholas,” she said gently, “that wasn’t what anyone else would do. You were kind to him, and you stood up to bullies. He would not have turned out to be the man he is if you had not looked after him. Life can be hard and cruel. I know from experience how some people enjoy dragging one down, and without you that would have happened to him.”

He stroked a finger over her soft cheek. “Your life with Oldney must have been miserable.”

“Sometimes it was, but I thought it was what I wanted, convinced myself it was what I wanted. To be the queen of the ton , to attend every ball and soiree, and be envied by the rest. I have only recently learned that is not what I want. Or perhaps I have finally grown up from the girl who married Oldney.”

“I wish...” He began, but he didn’t want to say the words yet. He wasn’t ready, and he reminded himself that he must not act rashly. So he smiled instead and brushed his lips against hers. “I should go. We will meet again, at Lucifer’s.”

She nodded seriously. “Yes.” It sounded like a vow. “Don’t be late! I have a feeling...”

He waited for her to finish the sentence, but she had climbed out of bed and turned away, busily filling the basin with water to wash in. Did she have an intuition that something would happen tonight? He had had similar feelings himself, so he knew not to disregard them.

“I won’t be late,” he said quietly. “You can rely on me, Sophia.”

She did not answer him. Perhaps she did not hear him, or perhaps she felt too vulnerable to face him.

Hurriedly, Nicholas dressed and slipped out of the door of the bedchamber. There was no one in the passage, and he made his way to the stairs. As he descended he could hear someone approaching along the corridor from the back of the house, and he leaped the last two stairs and was out the door before they appeared. No matter how blasé Sophia was about him staying overnight, he didn’t want to cause her any more problems.

Outside, the sun was well up in the sky and it was a glorious day. He took a moment to breathe in deeply of the fresh air. He felt... different. Part of him was happy to just be alive—an unusual state of affairs for him—while the other part was twisted with anxiety about Fern and Gordon. And Sophia. He reminded himself that he was good at this, and all he really needed to do was make certain he was there when she needed him.

In the meantime, why not allow himself a moment of happiness? He was in love, and Nicholas had never been in love before. It was wondrous and most surprising.

But already other thoughts were crowding in, reminding him that in his thirty-two years he had rarely been truly happy. The burdens of other people had always rested heavily upon his shoulders. It might explain the gray hairs he had begun to find among the dark ones on his head.

Was this love something he could trust, even in himself? He used to dislike Sophia so intensely, and yet he had always been drawn to her. Now he was so enchanted with her, he rather thought he would do whatever she asked of him.

Loving her was wondrous, yes, but it also made him vulnerable, and Nicholas wasn’t sure if that was a good thing.