Duke of Deception (Wentworth Trilogy) (11 page)

“O
pen this door!”

She could barely hear his voice over the crashing of the waves. She was trapped in the ship’s cabin, which was quickly filling with water. Her only way out was through the door, and she didn’t want to open it because
he
would be there, and she couldn’t trust him. She couldn’t trust him because he would start kissing her and touching her and—

“Lady Louisa, if you don’t open this door, I swear I will break it down.”

The cabin’s flimsy walls shuddered with each fierce rattling of the door. The water was rising all around her, and Lucy didn’t know what to do. A tremendous crash resounded through the cabin as the door flew open—

And she woke up.

Finding herself awakening quite literally to the man of her dreams, Lucy was somewhat nonplussed, forgetting her lack of attire as she mustered up her indignant feelings over his forced intrusion. It wasn’t an easy task, for once again she was struck by his powerful masculinity and devilish good looks.

“You blackguard! How dare you enter my bedchamber.”

To Derek, she looked like an angel, dressed as she was in a girlish white night-rail that covered every square inch of flesh from her neck downward. Her dark hair, secured in a long plait neatly ribboned at the end, reinforced the vision of innocence. He suppressed the urge to smile indulgently at her by reminding himself that behind the angelic face was the mind of a temptress—a seductive,
conniving
temptress—and he was going to let her know right here and now just who was boss.

“We’re about to have a little chat,” he said in a coldly polite voice. “I haven’t time for childish pranks; I leave for London within the hour.”

Responding with a scathing look, Lucy, as he’d come to think of his bride-to-be, settled back into bed, then rolled over, turning away from him. She pulled the blanket over her head. “That
is
a shame,” she said, her voice muffled, “since I don’t plan to arise just yet. Perhaps I’ll see you another time?”

“You’ll see me now,” he said, covering the distance between them in two long strides. He threw the blanket off her and yanked her out of bed.

She jerked her wrist from his grasp, rubbing the marked flesh. “How dare you!”

“How
I dare doesn’t matter, sweetheart. Just remember I do. I
do
dare. Just as you have dared to keep me waiting all last night and this morning, I have dared to put an end to this farce.” He moved the dainty chair that was positioned in front of her dressing table and sat, stretching out and crossing his longs legs.

Her bedchamber was more or less what he had imagined: a four-poster bed draped in a pale blue that complemented her eyes, walls hung with cream-colored silk, Queen Anne styled furniture that had been carefully maintained, and a window that overlooked the stable and the bulk of the manor’s land. That was the only surprise, that she would want a view of the stable. His mind moved over those facts in seconds, then returned to the matter at hand.

“So now we will talk, and my only question is whether you wish to continue this discussion dressed as you are.”

He hoped to God not. She didn’t look quite so angelic standing. With the soft light from the window framing her, the cotton material was transparent, revealing not only the outline of rounded breasts with their tightening nipples but also the dark triangle below.

She followed the direction of his gaze. “Oh!” She spun away and rifled through the bedclothes. He couldn’t drag his eyes away from the outline of her long, slim legs and the way the thin cloth hugged her deliciously rounded bottom when she bent over. His groin tightened as he imagined himself moving up behind her, pulling her to him, and he turned his gaze to the window. He wouldn’t allow himself to be distracted. They had details to discuss.

She snatched up a robe and slipped it on, then whirled around to face him. “What is it you hope to gain from this marriage? My dowry? My social position? I will never give up my fortune, and if you think to further yourself in English society by marrying an earl’s daughter, you should think again. I rarely go about and when I do, it is seldom to join in society’s events.”

Derek flicked a speck of dust from his dark jacket, then raised his eyes to give her what he hoped was a bored look. “To be frank, Lucy, your social position is probably not worth the wanting just now.”

Lucy gaped at him. Her mouth dropped open to from an “o” and then closed and reopened, once, twice, thrice. “I did not give you leave to call me Lucy,” was all she said when she finally regained her voice.

“I didn’t ask for your leave,
Lucy.”

She glared at him. “Well. As you say, I have nothing to tempt you.”

“And I want nothing, except an obedient wife who realizes that she is solely responsible for bringing about the circumstances which led to her unwanted marriage. You forced me into an offer, and you have no choice but to accept it. You may handle
your
reputation any way you like, but you will not handle mine.”

“Reputation?” She snickered and tossed her head, causing the thick plait of hair to swing around to her back. “I daresay you have little enough to handle. I will say this once more. I will not marry you. You are wasting your time.”

Derek contemplated his choices. He could sit before her and argue all day, which
would
be a complete waste of his time, or he could lead her to the only decision possible while letting her think she was in charge. The latter would, of course, be the most effortless way to achieve his objective.

He had to give her credit, though. She stood before him as indignant as any unjustly accused person could be, her back rigid with pride and her sapphire eyes blazing as though
she
was the wronged party, but the purplish shadows beneath her eyes and the grim tightness of her mouth hadn’t escaped him. She had worried about her situation all night.

Still, she was fortunate he was giving her a say in her future at all. Papers would be signed tomorrow and money would change hands. Her fate was sealed unless she meant to run off and leave everything behind. Recalling the joy on her face when she talked about the tiny manor and nearby village, he guessed she would not.

No, she had no choice, but she needed the pretense of coming to that decision herself. Otherwise, he would be in the unhappy position of tyrant on his wedding night.

His mind made up, he decided to lead her to the decision quickly. His new ship, his latest design, had arrived from America. He had no time to waste.

“I’ll not have my business ruined because of your selfish act. We marry in three weeks, so you may as well get used to the idea.”

“This is preposterous. You are nothing more than an American pirate, and I can’t see how my actions could possibly affect your business.”

“Then you’re not thinking logically, which is no surprise to me,” he replied. “I’ve worked hard to cultivate my connections here, and I’ll not see them ruined by one stupid act that I had nothing to do with. If we do not marry, society will consider me a bounder. I may be an American privateer, but that doesn’t mean I am not a gentleman. I can assure you that first and foremost, I am a gentleman.”

“So you say,” she retorted hotly.

“Tell me of one time I did not act as a gentleman.”

“Hmmph! I believe the evening of the Grantham ball, when you dragged me out to the terrace against my will, you did not behave as a gentleman.”

Derek stiffened. He uncrossed his legs and sat up straight. “Well, there may have been that one time, but you must be honest and admit you returned my kiss with passion.”

“I most certainly did not. And even if I did—which I did not—that is no excuse for ungentlemanly behavior in the first place. And that day in London, when you confronted me about my swooning,
that
was not gentlemanly behavior!”

“Your
pretend
swooning,” he countered with a smirk. “Surely you don’t think you can call me on a normal reaction to your dishonest behavior?”

Her eyes grew wide at the remark. “Well! Certainly you remember your ungentlemanly behavior when you flung open the door to my bedchamber at the Bellingham party while I was changing my gown?”

Derek shrugged. “I was lost.”

“Lady Foxworth thinks not. She says you were spying on me. Then there is today. You entered my bedchamber uninvited . . . ”

Derek scowled. This was not going as smoothly as he planned. “See here, I’ll not apologize for behavior which has been forced upon me by your own unbecoming acts. As for Isabelle Foxworth, you have no business consorting with a woman of such experience. It can lead to nothing but trouble, and I don’t want—”

“You see? Already you are telling me how to behave,” Lucy said, her eyes narrowed in distrust. “And I will add that for a pirate, you are most stuffy and conservative.”

“I am not a
pirate,”
he said through clenched teeth. “I am a
privateer.
There is a difference. A vast difference.”

Lucy rolled her eyes and snorted in unladylike fashion. “Oh, yes, that little matter of war. What one does in time of war suddenly becomes honorable.”

“You know nothing of the matter.”

“I know you make money by marking up goods that are needed by people who can ill afford your exorbitant prices.”

“Yes, whiskey and silk are desperately needed by good citizens with little money,” he replied sarcastically. “As I said, you know nothing of these things. I did not come up here to discuss my character, as you well know.”

Lucy retreated a few steps. “Let us part as friends,” she said. “I’m sorry for any damage I may have done to your reputation, but surely, it can withstand it. I repeat, I will not marry; you may inform my uncle that you withdraw your offer.”

“I won’t withdraw the offer, and you know what that means. You have no choice but to marry me, so you might as well make the best of it. What can I do to make this offer more palatable to you? Tell me what you want.”

Lucy’s face flushed red. “What I
want?
What I
want
is to remain independent of a man’s concern. What I
want
is to be able to follow my own pursuits without answering to you or any other person. What I
want
is my own money, my dowry, put into an account in my name so that I might use it as I please, with full authority to continue managing Stonecrest as I have been doing for the past two years. These are the things I
want,
sir, and without them, you may be assured I will not marry.” She gave him her back and stared, arms crossed, out the window.

Derek thought over her demands for a moment, then answered with cool deliberation. “I have no objection to these terms, but I must insist on knowing the pursuits you will follow. Let me be frank here: I will not tolerate an unfaithful wife.”

Her body went rigid. Without turning to face him she spoke, her voice uncertain. “Um, that’s the other thing. I am unused to . . . to . . . well, many things. I . . . I had expected to marry for love or not at all, you see. I would want your promise that you will not make me . . . that you will,
er . . . wait
until I am ready to come to you. I think it the least you can do in view of a forced marriage. I hardly know you.”

Derek jumped to his feet when he grasped her meaning. “Do you think me daft? If our marriage isn’t consummated, you could have it annulled. I’ll not have the possibility of
that
scandal hanging over my head.”

Lucy faced him with a resentful stare. “It is not my intention to have the marriage annulled,” she said. “I simply think I should be given time to become better acquainted with you. As for my activities, they involve the management of my estate, nothing else. In case my uncle did not make it clear, Stonecrest Manor remains mine even if I marry, and I will never turn it over to be managed by a man simply because he is my husband.”

He hid his amusement from his bride-to-be. Why would he care if she managed her estate? Surely putting up new curtains in the tenants’ cottages or supervising the planting of spring flowers could make no difference to him. He was glad to have a wife interested in such pursuits. A woman’s touch, after all, made all the difference when it came to decorations and such. With so much interest in the estate, she would undoubtedly be thrilled when he advised her of his plans to irrigate her property and level the roads, for it was obvious that both her father and her uncle had let repairs slide. Yes, he was more than willing to let her manage her estate if it would make her happy.

“I’ll agree to your demands,” he said, stepping closer to her, “but I do intend to share your bed. I will not sleep alone, if for no other reason than to preclude gossip by the servants. Gossip travels as fast as the next coach to London, and I’ll not have my business associates snickering behind my back. And I’ll wait no more than a month after we take our vows for consummation. I leave on an expedition then, and it’s too much to ask that I wait longer.”

Indeed, he didn’t expect to wait past his wedding night; his blushing bride would be easy to charm. He took another step toward her and cast his most seductive smile. “There’s always the possibility that
you
will come to
me
before the month is up, and if that should happen, I can promise you a night you will never forget.”

Lucy caught her breath. His grey eyes smoldered as he moved closer to her, so close she could feel the warmth of his body.
Dear God, give me strength,
she thought as she stared at the expansive breadth of his chest, trying her best to concentrate on the cloth of his navy superfine waistcoat so she wouldn’t look up into the bewitching gaze that could be her undoing. “Me come to you? I don’t think you have to worry about that, Captain Wainright,” she replied in a voice that sounded flat and faraway even to her own ears.

“Call me Derek,” he said, his voice suddenly husky, his body almost touching hers. “We are, after all, betrothed, and I do believe the proper thing is to seal a betrothal with a kiss.”