Escaping the Duke (The Secret Crusaders #1)

Chapter 16

CHAPTER 16

D ear P,

I could not imagine my days with a calm, biddable wife. I wish for a true partner, a lady who is kind and brave, caring and loving, clever and witty. A lady with whom I can share my life’s work and the family I am only now imagining. And if she sometimes frustrates me, I will accept it, because I accept her.

I have found someone who has everything I desire.

I wish you the same.

Yours,

Edmund

It could no longer be denied. No longer ignored. The emotion had been there for so long, stronger and more powerful with every single day.

She loved him.

It was so clear. The way her heart fluttered when they were together, how she longed to be with him, the kisses that made her body come alive.

Nothing had ever felt so right.

And now everything was so wrong.

She still couldn’t be with him, not even with the realization that should change everything. Her life belonged to society’s poor, the people who fought simply to exist. Without her efforts, more children would go hungry, more women would lose everything. She couldn’t allow that.

Even if it destroyed her heart.

She had to somehow get over a relationship that never truly began. To mend the pieces of her shattered heart.

“The babies are asleep.”

It took her a moment to realize who spoke the whispered words. Elizabeth stood in the doorway, gesturing to the slumbering children.

Priscilla gently placed the sleeping infant in his bed. Edmund gave his charge a tiny kiss before carefully lowering her down.

Priscilla’s eyes watered.

With quiet goodbyes, they followed Elizabeth out of the room.

“You did wonderfully.” The proprietress looked back and forth between the two of them. “Is everything well?”

“Of course,” Priscilla said quietly.

Edmund paused, nodded.

Elizabeth turned to the duke. “Mr. Jenkins, could you help us with one more thing before you leave? We have a leak in the attic, but it’s too difficult for me to repair. Perhaps you could take a look.”

“Certainly.” Edmund took the keys Elizabeth offered.

“Priscilla, can you show him where it is?”

Sure. Of course. Is it obvious I love him?

As the words threatened to emerge, she licked dry lips. “Certainly. Follow me.”

They left the room and travelled down a narrow, dark hallway. The silence was deafening as they ascended a rickety staircase to the second floor, and the even more perilous ladder to the attic. He stayed close behind, and she could practically feel the heat emanating from him.

Suddenly her foot caught on a broken board. She gasped as she pitched backward, grasping for rungs she could never reach. Yet before she hit the ground, she landed against a hard chest. Iron bands wrapped tightly around her. To steady her…

Or to capture her?

“Are you all right?” The words were whispered, almost strained. He shifted yet did not let go.

She sucked in a breath laden with his scent. “I– I just need a minute.”

Even in the perilous situation, her body started to hum. Every inch pressed against him.

Do not ask if you can remain like this permanently.

It wouldn’t work logistically.

Still, it might be worth a try.

“Do you think you can continue?”

“Yes.” She forced herself forward, even as his arms tightened. He released her, and she climbed the rest of the way without incident, ignoring the urge to fall into him with every step.

This. Was. Very. Bad.

They reached the small ledge at the top, which led to a half-door. He looked back down. “Someone needs to repair this,” he murmured. “Better yet, they should add stairs. Tomorrow, I think.”

She gaped at him. No doubt a team of men would show up tomorrow ready to work.

“Are there other organizations like this?” He turned his bright blue gaze on her. “Charities that could use assistance?”

“I’m sure there are many,” she breathed.

The man was literally trying to save the world. Her heart, now fully exposed, shuddered.

“The attic is through here.”

He placed the key in the lock and turned. She stood back as he forced the door open to thick clouds of swirling dust. They waited until the worst of it thinned, then stepped in.

“You should lock the door.”

He looked at her sharply.

Heat crept up her neck. “We always keep the door locked to avoid a child getting hurt.”

“Of course.” He did as she said, then pocketed the key.

She suppressed a shiver.

The attic was cluttered with decades-old clothing, dilapidated furniture and ragged household supplies. Elizabeth saved everything just in case they had a desperate need, and they often had such a need. With Edmund’s contributions, hopefully they could switch to items a great-grandmother wouldn’t find dated.

Dust surrounded and settled on them as they carefully tiptoed through the space. The space was narrow, pushing her almost into Edmund. She may have delved a little closer than necessary, accidentally of course. Twelve times.

She pointed to a patchy black spot on the ceiling. “That’s where the wood is rotted. We have the supplies, but we couldn’t reach far enough. I know this isn’t your area of expertise, but–”

“I can do it.” He easily hefted the heavy wood and supplies.

She stood back and watched. He worked with speed and efficiency, cutting out the rotted material and preparing the new piece. He measured everything as he made the replacement, taking care to make the patch seamless. He looked as at ease fixing a roof as he did speaking to the leaders of Parliament. In just a few minutes, he dusted his hands off and turned back to her.

“Is it acceptable?”

“Is there anything you’re not good at?” She closed her eyes, opened them.

Amusement sparkled in his expression. “What do you think?”

“No one can possibly be good at everything.”

Sudden desire sparked, charging the air between them. Then, because she simply couldn’t stop herself, she said, “Perhaps we should test it.”

Unspoken words played like a symphony in the dusty air. He moved closer, and all amusement fled. She couldn’t move, could barely breathe.

He touched her cheek. “We would have to test it quite thoroughly.”

“Quite,” she murmured.

Their lips met.

Their other kisses had been glorious. Wondrous. Amazing.

And yet none compared to a kiss of true love.

Streaks of desire raced through her, sensitizing every area he touched, and he touched everywhere . He ran his hands over her, casting fiery heat through her clothing. He shaped her curves, tested her responses.

Pure pleasure.

She pushed deeper into the kiss, yet he would not relinquish control. They touched along their entire bodies as he plundered her mouth, exploring her as she explored him.

Something was happening to her. Aching need sensitized feminine parts, moistened them. She pressed further into the heat only he could provide, primitive instincts demanding she become one with this man.

She shouldn’t.

She couldn’t.

Could she?

A thousand emotions cast mind-shattering indecision. Wrought with risk, her choice would change everything.

It might be worth it.

She had sacrificed so much for her cause: her money, her time and now her very heart. She did not regret it, yet didn’t she deserve something, a memory she could keep forever? She might not be able to build a life with the man she loved, but perhaps fate had granted her the opportunity to truly be with him.

Her mind spun, even as Edmund rained kisses down her vulnerable neck. It was the perfect moment to taste what she must soon sacrifice, while they were locked away with no chance of discovery. She would accept entering marriage without her virginity, for no doubt, any suitor would do the same. The time of month made conception of a child unlikely. This was her chance.

She would seize it.

She gasped as he brushed a breast. He circled its tip, kneaded, cupped, weighed. Though clothing separated them, her skin burned. He moved to its twin, then gave each straining peak a kiss. Sweat slicked under her stays, heat threatening to engulf her. What was he doing to her?

She needed to be closer to him. As close as two people could be. She leaned back, grasped her ribbons. Pulled.

He stilled.

She heaved in a deep breath, pushing further into the hands boldly possessing her breasts.

When he spoke, his voice was without its normal control. “What are you doing?”

“I want to be with you.”

He gave a harsh intake of breath. “You don’t know what you’re saying. I don’t have my usual control.” Under her, powerful muscles tensed, so hard, so smooth. A warrior had replaced the gentleman duke. “I will not take advantage of you.”

“I want this.” She ran a hand along sculpted muscles. “I want you.”

Storms raged in his eyes. “You are an innocent.”

“I understand what happens between a man and a woman.” She inhaled his woodsy scent. “I am ready.”

His eyes dilated, turning darker, dangerous. Passion sparked in the air, its tendrils swirling around them. Still, doubts flashed in his expression. “Are you sure?”

“I’ve never been so sure of anything my entire life.”

“So be it…” He leaned down. “You are mine.”

He seized her lips, shattering reality into pure need. She fought to be closer, forgoing all control as he caressed her, as he fondled and touched her. But it was not enough.

They had to be closer.

With agonizing slowness he undressed her. She tried to assist, for the need was too great for it to be slow. He quickened his pace, and suddenly the rest of her clothing was gone, and she was naked before him, totally and utterly exposed. He moved back, viewed her in her purest form.

Heat crept everywhere.

“So beautiful,” he murmured.

Then he grasped her once more.

Her vulnerable state brought even more excitement, more desire. The cool air caressed her bare skin, yet she was fiery warm under his heat. For a moment he moved back, and she gave a mewl of protest. Until she realized he was divesting his own clothing.

Oh. My. Goodness.

She gasped at her first look at the man, unhidden, sculpted. He truly was a masterpiece, his body tanned and smooth, forged of pure muscle.

He placed his servant’s coat on the floor, laying it on top of some soft bedding, before gently lowering her down. Now he took his time with her, teaching her the art of lovemaking. He was tender and kind, patient and understanding, as he took her to heights she never before imagined. He carefully joined with her, holding her tightly, ensuing she was all right before stretching her to accommodate him. Momentary discomfort was soon forgotten as he caressed tender limbs, gentling unaccustomed places. Before long, she was squirming under his administrations. The storm swirled higher and higher.

Then… surrender.

She softly cried out as he brought her to ecstasy for the first time. He held her tenderly, possessing her as if she was the most precious of gems. He brought her to the height of pleasure again and again, letting her dictate the pace, even as he led her. He was gracious and masterful, dominant and caring. She surrendered completely to him, as he cast pleasures she never knew possible. Finally, they moved in harmony one final time.

Then they soared.

Amazing. Unbelievable. Stunning.

Words couldn’t truly describe the moments they shared, the lovemaking that far surpassed any of the past. It was so right, so perfect.

With the woman he loved.

Edmund gazed at the beauty beneath him. She was smiling softly, completely satiated, the uncertainty in her eyes for once absent.

“Is it always like this?” she murmured.

He leaned down for a kiss. “It is never like this.”

She bit her lip. “In a good way?”

“In an extraordinary, amazing, wonderful way. You are…” He shook his head. “You, madam, have rendered me speechless.”

She giggled. “I would imagine it is a first.”

“Quite.” He traced her bare arm. Her skin was still flushed from their lovemaking. She stretched, and desire reared once more.

Yet the sound of running came from downstairs, and she softly sighed. “We need to get back.”

“Of course.” He wished he could keep her sequestered forever, in a dusty attic filled with old clothing and memories, yet the real world beckoned. Soon he would no longer have to leave her. They would wed as soon as possible, with a special license if her family was willing. Then she would be securely ensconced in his world.

She belonged to him now.

He quickly donned his clothing, then aided her as well. The serviceable gown was less cumbersome than the delicate gowns of the ton and did not take long to arrange. It was delayed by the two long kisses he couldn’t help but take.

Finally, their clothing was repaired, and Priscilla’s hair was set right. She patted it. “How do I look?”

“Ravishing.”

Her cheeks flushed more. She looked down, even as she smiled. “You need to stop doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Flattering me.”

“You receive compliments from men all the time.”

“Yes, but you’re the only one I want to throw down and lick.”

Heat flared. He would be doing the licking.

Yet right now she was as red as a freshly picked cherry. “Did I just say that out loud?”

“I’m afraid so.”

She sighed. “Fine, I admit it. But we have to stop acting this way. There will be a scandal if we act like besotted love birds.”

He took her hand. “I would never allow that,” he said seriously. “No one will learn of what happened today. As soon as we wed, no one will care anyway.”

She froze. “What?”

“I would take you to Scotland this very minute if I could. Yet our families undoubtedly want a grand affair. My only requirement is that it’s as soon as possible. My ball tomorrow evening will be the perfect place to make the announcement.”

“The announcement?” Her voice was uncharacteristically soft, her pink complexion paled.

He narrowed his eyes. “The announcement of our betrothal, of course.”

She visibly swallowed. Then, straightened.

If she thought to challenge him, she would find herself against an opponent as she had never met. He never had so much to lose. Never so much to gain.

“We are not getting married.”

He folded his arms across his chest, stood to his full height. Yet instead of fear, she notched up her chin and looked him straight in the eye.

How he loved this woman.

Yet nothing would stand in the way of her becoming his. Not even her. “I thought you understood the consequences of our behavior.”

She shook her head. “We always have a choice.”

“You know the man I am, Priscilla. Did you really think I would take an innocent and not make her my bride?”

“I appreciate the chivalry, yet it is unnecessary.” She stood taller. “I will not marry you.”

The world disappeared under his feet, felled by emotional weapons: dismay, frustration, shock. Above all, determination. “You will marry me.”

“I will not.” She clenched her fists, jutted up that perfect little nose. It was all he could do not to kiss her.

He kept his voice calm, yet infused power behind it. “I will give you several options.”

Warily she nodded.

“I can throw you over my shoulder and kidnap you to Gretna Green. That is my preferred option.”

Her nostrils flared. “Don’t. You. Dare.”

“I could go to your father and make an arrangement you cannot escape.”

She scowled.

“Or you can tell me the massive secret that is most certainly the cause of your uncertainty, so I can vanquish it.”

She tensed, didn’t say a word.

He lowered his voice, softened his stance. “Think about it, Priscilla. The match makes sense. We have the same goals, desires. Physically…”

She blushed.

“I do not need to tell you that part is extraordinary. We are both looking for matches this season. Most of all, I feel…” He hesitated. The words danced on his tongue, yet they wouldn’t come, not when she was so steadfast in denying him. “I feel that we suit.”

Disappointment flashed in her eyes, so fleeting he wasn’t sure if he imagined it. For a moment she hesitated, but then her eyes shuttered. “I’m afraid none of those options are acceptable. I’m sorry if I led you to believe this would lead to something more. I simply wanted… this. But now we must move on. I will be announcing a betrothal soon, as I’m sure you will. Not to each other.”

Whisking her to Gretna Green it was .

It truly was tempting. He could manage it, yet not without scandal. He would not start a marriage like that. “Tomorrow I will visit your father.”

She gasped. “You wouldn’t.”

He raised his eyebrows.

“I will not accept the match.” She said it forcefully, yet they both knew how society worked. The power her father wielded, the power he wielded.

She would have no choice.

“I–”

Banging startled them both.

He was the first to recover. “Yes?” he called.

“It’s Elizabeth. I wanted to check if you needed anything else for the repair.”

“Nothing else is required. The leak is fixed.” He looked squarely at Priscilla. “Everything is as it should be.”

Priscilla clenched her fists. For a moment they just stared at each other, then without a word, she turned and stomped to the door. Edmund stayed close behind but said nothing as he helped her down the ladder, as Elizabeth watched warily. When he offered to walk Priscilla home, she scowled but accepted.

Yet she sped ahead as soon as they left the sanctuary. Clearly she wanted no more discussion, and he accepted it. Tensions were high – they would talk in the morning, when they both could think clearly. Of course he stayed close, not stopping until she slipped through the fence.

He quickly walked the short distance to his own home, then strode to his room, his steward close on his heels. He barely noticed the inviting furniture, the crackling fire or luxurious furnishings. He had a single focus.

He turned to his steward, forced the scowl away. Of course his excellent servant gave no reaction to his behavior, nor did he mention the threadbare coat.

Edmund whipped it off. “Have this sent to the Duchess of Sherring in a plain box.”

“Of course, Your Grace.”

The steward would, of course, have the utmost discretion. No one would learn of the unusual exchange.

“A message arrived, Your Grace.” He offered a thin letter, sealed with a “D.”

Edmund took it and threw it on the sideboard. “Thank you. Tell my valet I will not be needing his services tonight. In fact, tell the entire household to stay away. I have a strategy to devise.”

“Very good, Your Grace.” With the upmost decorum, the steward left, closing the door softly behind him.

Edmund slammed the table.

He’d been so close! He assumed Priscilla understood the consequences of intimacy, that she finally accepted their match as inevitable. Only she was still denying the truth.

He growled, forcing himself to calm. Normally, logic and rationality ruled him, but his heart usurped all matters related to Priscilla. Why was she acting this way? Her excuses failed with every heated look she gave him. The secret he almost learned was stopping her; he was sure of it! What secret was so powerful, it stopped her from taking what she so clearly wanted?

He went to the sideboard and poured himself a glass of something stronger than the early evening dictated. Yet it was not nearly as strong as what he needed.

He looked down at the letter his steward left, tore it open with ruthless efficiency. Scanned its contents, stopped.

And smiled.

It was a request for an audience. Urgent it said, requesting his presence as soon as possible the next morning. It did not say why, only that its writer possessed vital information.

He folded the paper, rubbed the textured surface across his finger. Lady Drummond’s summons could mean only one thing. Tomorrow he would learn the identity of the mysterious Lord. P.

Then he would claim his duchess.