Compromising Miss Tisdale (26 page)

Almost losing someone you love was an awful way to reprioritize one’s life.

The time he spent alone on the ride back from Brightly had given him plenty of time to think. He knew he couldn’t trust himself to be alone with Ambrosia. It had been proven a number of times so the only clear solution would be complete and utter separation. Uncle Richard would die soon, so he wouldn’t have to lie to him long. After Richard’s passing, he would return to Hamptonshire and his life would go on—
unchanged
. He would eventually find someone else, pack her up and ship her to the country and continue living up, or down, to his reputation amass an unearned fortune and plethora of mistresses. Could any rogue ask for a happier ending?

Unchanged
. Duncan had focused on that one word. He would go on doing whatever it was that he did. His life would continue on exactly how it had been—
unchanged.

It did not sound like that happy of an ending.

He wanted his life to change. He wanted it to change with Ambrosia. Everything she had said—it was as if her story were teaching him a lesson. He was not the man his father accused him of being, and he very well could be the man his uncle had wanted him to be.

When he saw her standing in the foyer—it was as if his uncle had orchestrated the whole thing as he had so many other times in his life. And her words—my God, those words. It felt as if his chest would burst from such happiness. She thought him worthy of such beautiful words, and in that instant he knew he would do everything in his power to prove to her that her decision had been wise.

“You are beautiful,” he said from across the room.

“I’ve already agreed to marry you, you can stop with the pleasantries now,” she proclaimed, sauntering over to him.

He reached out, grabbing her hips and pulling her toward him. “There’s plenty more where that came from. I’ve warned you before. I am quite skilled in the art of seduction,” he began nuzzling her stomach through the silk of the robe.

She laughed, then gently eased him away. He countered by grabbing her arms and pulling her atop him.

She rolled away, surprising him with her strength. “Duncan, I have to speak with you at some point during the day. I realize you must tend to your uncle, but when you have more time I’d like to talk with you.”

He pulled her back again, feeling a bit as if he were wrestling with a wily boy. “If it’s about wedding plans, don’t bother. I’m arranging for a special license and we’ll marry in whatever room I’m in when I receive it.”

She pushed him away again. “Do be serious, Duncan.”

He stopped tugging. “I am. For once, I am.”

Ambrosia shook her head. “It has to do with last night . . . ”

“Before you ravaged me?” he finished for her, rolling over, taking one of her bare legs in his hands and starting to kiss the ball of her foot.

She crossed her arms over her chest and gave him her most serious look.

Duncan dropped the leg. “What is it then? I’ll give you no more than five minutes and then I insist that we make love again.”

Ambrosia smiled. “I want to, believe me, but this is far too serious to make light of.”

Duncan sat back and readied himself for whatever it was she had to say.

“I went to Lord Kennings’ before I came here.”

Oh God, it was worse than he thought.

“I had to confront him about something I’d learned,” Ambrosia finished.

Duncan sat up a bit. “What do you mean
confront
him?”

Ambrosia swallowed. “It’s far too involved to discuss right now. Please, go to your uncle. I need to go before it gets too light outside. We wouldn’t want the neighbors to talk, now would we?” She gave him a playful smile. Of course, she was fully aware that he wouldn’t give a damn what the neighbors said.

Duncan propped his head upon his hand, admiring the disarray he had left her in. Ambrosia looked thoroughly ravaged. Her hair was tangled and her face pink from his meager day’s growth of whiskers. He felt an ancient sort of male pride in causing her state of dishabille.

But her tempting appearance was not enough to detract him from the realization that speaking to James was certainly not a choice situation. James was privy to the underbelly of Duncan’s sordid existence, namely his state of affairs. Despite their ever-growing friendship, the idea of both him and Ambrosia sharing an intimate tête-à-tête left him dismayed to say the least.

“What was it exactly that you two discussed?” Duncan tried to come off as cavalier, despite the sudden dryness in his throat and increased pulsating in his ears.

Ambrosia shook her head. “It’s nothing that cannot wait till after you’ve seen your uncle.”

“Are you terribly close with Kenning?” Now, he was just prying.

She rose from the bed, a queen draped in nothing but a silk sheet, her dark curls tumbling down her back in stark contrast to her cream colored
gown
. “No, but it’s certainly not for a lack of trying.”

Duncan’s interest was piqued, as was his jealously. “What do you mean by that?”

Ambrosia worked a feat of magic, somehow changing out her sheet for a chemise from the night before without exposing so much as a leg.

Such a clever minx.

Ambrosia continued speaking as she took a wet cloth across her face and bosom. “Kenning has never been subtle regarding his intentions toward me. As long as I can remember being friends with his sister, I have had to suffer through his not-so-subtle overtures. He’s even gone so far as to come to stay with my family as Amelia’s companion. Tamsin thinks him an utter cad. I had thought the flirtation was harmless, if not persistent, but believed it would finally cease with his marriage.” She turned her back to him, ready for him to assist in buttoning her gown.

His fingers, keenly adept at removing gowns, now his once graceful appendages were as useful as plump sausages. The act of assisting a woman dress, of watching her morning toilette, was more intimate than any sexual act he had ever experienced. With each button, he could feel her back, each breath, each small movement in her body. He allowed his hands to trace along each tiny bump of her vertebrae and the outline of her ribs. She turned to him after the last loop was closed, her eyes heavy with desire, and thanked him with a husky whisper. The realization of her arousal thrilled him.

With that she went on to coil her hair into a loose chignon that could have passed for the work of any experienced ladies’ maid. “Don’t you need to be readying yourself to see to your uncle?” She was deflecting the subject at hand.

Duncan smiled. “Of course. Will you be all right getting home? Is there anything I can do to convince you to stay?” He chuckled. “I have some ideas if you would only consent to letting me try.”

She shook her head. “I shall take a hack to my family’s townhome in Mayfair and gather my things. From there, I will send word to Lillian to come and stay with me. I shall return again tonight.”

Duncan walked up behind her and kissed the soft piece of skin that joined her neck to her shoulders. That creamy expanse of skin peaked out of her dress like a beacon for his lips. “I’ll send message if there’s any change in Richard’s condition.”

Ambrosia turned and touched a hand to his face. For a moment, a brief flash of emotion displayed prominently upon her face. He could tell she had something to say, her eyes speaking volumes that her voice couldn’t. Instead, she let her hand linger, her thumb brushing his cheekbone, then dropped it unceremoniously to her side.

Then she was gone, leaving him alone in his rooms. Duncan made his way back to the bed, collapsing upon it. He brought his hands to his face and allowed himself to inhale the scent of her, as if he could permanently imprint the combination of mint and soap unto his soul.

His mind took him to that night on the balcony where he had first become aware of the bouquet Ambrosia left her in wake. That was also the evening James had confessed a certain fondness for her. It had seemed a harmless enough flirtation, but now . . .

Duncan reconsidered the words that Ambrosia had shared with him regarding the Duke. At the time, he hadn’t been able to concentrate on anything she said for want of her. But now that her physical presence was removed, he could nothing but obsess on her memory, on every smell, on every word.

Ambrosia had nothing to gain by not speaking with the utmost honesty regarding James, and he had no reason for which to doubt her. If James had an inclination toward Ambrosia, just how far would he go to see his ambition realized?

Chapter 26

Richard had made it through another day. Duncan sat by his side taking on the dutiful role of nurse. He wiped his face when needed and brought a cup to his lips to quench his throat when requested. There were servants that he could have had fulfill these menial duties, but Duncan wouldn’t have it. He saw it as his responsibility, not some strangers. And he did not read excerpts from the bible as would have been expected in a situation such as this. Instead, his uncle had requested he retell stories of his youth, recounting the memories of a young, uninhibited man. Richard wanted no talk of death, only of vitality. It was how he had lived, and even if it was only vicariously, it would be how he died.

After Richard had been settled in for the evening, Duncan found his way to the library. A long day of sobriety had taken its toll and once relieved of his nurse duties, he had an intense desire to numb his senses. He forwent the glass, and opted to drink straight out of the decanter.

It was then that a footman appeared at the door and announced his guest. “The Duke of Kenning.”

The visit was not a surprise. But it was getting late and Ambrosia would be returning soon. James had taken his time with his response and now his timing couldn’t have been more inopportune.

“Send him in.”

Duncan deduced that James had been so adamant over his pursuing Ambrosia because of his own feelings. One could hardly fault the man for trying, but now that Duncan had solidified the relationship, he’d be damned to allow James to continue with his flirtation and had simply wanted to warn him of the ramifications of any future infractions.

James entered with his typical joviality and constant state of impeccable dress. “Duncan! I came as soon as I could. What is so important that you had me rush all the way over here?”

Duncan looked up at the clock. It had taken James close to twelve hours to respond.

James obviously knew what he was thinking. “I was entertaining that soprano you dropped so suddenly. She’s had me tied up all day. Quite literally, actually.”

“I’m engaged,” Duncan stated bluntly, not caring to relive his brief time spent with the voluptuous Italian girl.

James didn’t even blink at the declaration. “Wonderful! Pass the brandy.”

Rather than wait for the brandy to be passed, James promptly took it from him and began pouring himself a liberal splash of the amber liquid.

“I thought you’d be pleased,” Duncan returned, taking the bottle back once he was finished.

James smiled. “Oh, I am. I knew you could do it! Now, tell me—who is the lucky bride to be?”

Duncan smiled slyly. “Why, it is none other than
the
Miss Ambrosia Tisdale.”

James went slack jawed and gasped, his hand dramatically clutching his chest.

Obviously, he had missed his calling in theatre. “Miss Ambrosia Tisdale? You don’t say?”

“Yes,” Duncan exclaimed with equal sarcasm. “The very one!”

James laughed, then helped himself to a particularly long drink. “May I ask how this all came about?”

“What do you mean?” Duncan asked with feigned naiveté.

James was growing increasingly tense. “Did you compromise her? Were you forced into it? Whatever happened? Last I heard you were ridding yourself of the girl altogether and now you two are engaged?”

“What does it matter how we became engaged? I thought you’d be quite pleased, considering it’s what you wanted all along.”

James put both hands in the air, as if proclaiming his innocence. “Your happiness was my only concern through all of this. It was about you, Duncan, not me.”

Duncan leaned over and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Was it?”

“Of course. What other possible motives could I have had?”

Duncan’s tone became considerably more acerbic. “You tell me?”

“I don’t care overly much for your tone, Ol’ boy,” James warned. “Do you have something you’d like to share with me? If so, please, do elaborate. I’d love to hear what it is you’re thinking right now.”

“I don’t think you would, James.”

James put the crystal glass down on a neighboring table. “I know what’s going on here. That bitch told you about the money.”

Duncan would have punched him right then and there if he could have recovered from the shock of his effrontery. “What did you just say?” he asked, bewildered by James’ startling reaction.

James began pacing about the library. “I warned her not to. I told her it would devastate you at a time when you couldn’t bear it. But that damned righteous piety of hers makes it impossible to see things as anything other than right and wrong, black or white!” He clenched his fists in and out. Duncan hadn’t expected such a strong reaction and was frankly taken aback by the intensity James was displaying.

“What about the money?” he asked, pretending to know far more than he obviously did. The conversation was taking a most unexpected turn and there had to be a source for such an unwarranted reaction.

James was seething. “I did what I had to survive. I had no other options. I’ve tried to remedy the situation. Think of all I’ve done for you over these months—the lengths I’ve gone to secure your future?”

Duncan shook his head, thoroughly confused. “James?”

“You’re a rich man now. That dowry will more than make up for the piddle I’ve taken.”

“I was the one who gave you the idea,” James continued. “There’s no way you could have thought of it on your own. You needed a rich, desperate woman and I found her for you. In fact, I practically served her up on a silver platter for you. I orchestrated all of it. I invited you into my world so you’d have every opportunity to meet with her. I found out which route she walked each morning so you could happen to meet her there. I suggested your name to the Viscountess so you’d be invited to that ball, and it was I who arranged for that damned maid to catch the two of you in the garden that night.”