Duke of Deception (Wentworth Trilogy) (19 page)

“Dorrington? The duke who visited Papa?” Lucy dropped to the sofa.

“Yes. I was telling Stephen of the duke’s visit to your father and that they seemed to be arguing over a map, and he said your father was killed just days after the Duke of Dorrington died in a carriage accident.”

“And?”

“And I think both men’s deaths are connected to the map they argued over.”

“Why? Why can’t the duke have been killed in a carriage accident and my father killed by a highwayman a few days later? Just because they had a conversation doesn’t mean their deaths are connected.”

“No, it doesn’t. But Dorrington’s accident was highly suspicious, and I find it odd that the highwayman who killed your father failed to take a very expensive piece of jewelry from his victim. I’m inclined to believe theft was not the motive in your father’s death.”

Lucy gasped. “But that would mean someone wanted to kill him, perhaps even planned it.”

“Exactly. If the killer wanted the map and didn’t get it from either man, then it makes sense he would come looking for it here.”

“Papa was killed two years ago. Why hasn’t the killer searched before this?”

Derek wished he had an intelligent reply to that question, but the truth was he had no idea. Why
would
someone wait until now to start looking for the map, if they’d done nothing for the past two years? Why w—

And then it hit him. It was because of him.

He
was the catalyst.

With both the duke and Philip Barrick dead, the killer wasn’t worried about the map, but now that Derek might happen across it, the man was evidently scared. That could mean only one thing: the map didn’t lead to a treasure the killer hoped to discover, it was incriminating in some way, a loose end the killer didn’t want anyone to find. Derek didn’t know if the map was tied to the smugglers, but this new information made the possibility more likely. The most worrisome part was not knowing if the killer was concerned about Derek simply because he had moved into the manor, or if the killer was aware of the masquerade. But he couldn’t share those particular concerns with Lucy.

“I don’t know. I haven’t figured that out yet. Perhaps he did search before now and you just didn’t know. Look, I don’t think it’s safe for you to be at Stonecrest alone.”

“I’m not alone. I have my servants and, of course, you.”

Derek hesitated, though the time had come to tell her about his trip. “You don’t. Have me, that is. I’m leaving for an expedition any day now, and I could be gone as long as two months. I’m worried about your safety.”

Lucy felt her lower lip begin to tremble as she realized he was really leaving, even as she told herself it didn’t matter. In fact, surely his leaving was a good thing. She had her money and she’d be busy with her improvements to her property. She had never wanted a husband, anyway. She had only wanted her money. For Stonecrest. Still, to know he was leaving soon and would be gone for two months, if he ever came back at all …

She rose from the sofa and began straightening items on the desk. “I have my projects to attend to,” she said, trying to think no further than this moment, right now. “You can’t possibly expect me to set those aside now that I finally have the funds.”

“What if the person who took a shot at us is the same person who ransacked your study? He could be—
is
—dangerous.”

“But that was a hunter.”

“What if it wasn’t? We don’t know what we’re dealing with here, and until we do, it’s not safe for you to stay at Stonecrest alone. The thought of leaving you here scares me to death.”

His unexpected declaration robbed her of breath. Did he care that much about her?

“Then don’t go,” she blurted out. Now, why had she gone and said
that?

She let Derek pull her into his arms.

“Lucy, I have to go; I have no choice. And before you condemn me, let me say it’s not a money-making trip. I can’t explain anything else to you right now, but I have to go. And I can’t allow you to stay here unprotected.”

She shrugged away from his embrace. “And I refuse to stay in Town while you’re gone. This is my home and I have things to attend to here. I won’t leave my responsibilities. I can’t believe you’d even ask it of me.”

Derek gave her a long look and then threw up his hands. “Fine,” he said. “I’ll hire someone to stay at Stonecrest and look out for you while I’m gone, and there will be no arguing on this point. Just think of it this way: you’ll have an extra pair of hands to help with your projects.”

“I’ll agree to that, but I don’t want him interfering with my decisions. He may follow me wherever he likes, but he will not tell me where I can go.”

“What about the maps? I need to study them.”

“I’ll bring them to you but I want them back. Tomorrow. They are my property, after all.”

She twisted a long curl around her finger as she stared at him. “Why
did
you give everyone the afternoon off?”

“I was planning to seduce you,” he replied bluntly. “I didn’t want to leave without consummating the marriage, and I didn’t want to start over again when I returned.”

She blushed, thinking how close he’d come to achieving his goal. Her body had burned for him when he touched her and even now, after being furious over his planned seduction and confused over everything that followed, she wished they could go back in time to the picnic, before she’d become alarmed that someone might see them.

What was wrong with her? She wasn’t sure he could be trusted, and yet she was thrilled by his touch, so thrilled she’d been ready for anything that might come next, and that just would not do.

“Lucy, about the consummation of our marriage …”

She backed away. “I’m not ready, and we have an agreement. Since you’ll be gone before the month is up, I’m afraid it will have to wait.”

With her emotions in such turmoil, consummating the marriage would be a mistake, and the best way to avoid that was to avoid him. Until he left for his voyage, she’d spend her time tending to her projects. When he came back,
if
he came back, she’d think about consummating their marriage then.

D
erek balanced himself on the log he’d rolled up to the stable wall, hoping to glimpse something through the small window. He wasn’t a peeping tom, but he had to know what was going on. Since the ransacking three days earlier, Lucy had spent nearly all her time in the stable, to the point that she no longer even showed up for meals. Not only that, but he’d caught her sneaking into the manor in the middle of the night, a drowsy yet exhilarated expression on her face. It was enough to make a trusting man wonder. It was more than enough to drive Derek berserk.

They’d argued and she refused to speak on the matter, citing their agreement that she could come and go as she pleased. He reminded her that those comings and goings couldn’t involve another man, and she had simply smiled.

Now it was all he could do to keep from charging in there and demanding to know what she was up to, but he didn’t want his jealous nature revealed to Lucy once again. Best to stay outside, at least for now. Unable to see anything, he would have to be content with listening, but so far there had been no conversation. Then he heard Lucy giggle.

“You are such a mischievous devil!” she exclaimed, laughter in her voice. “You try to pull this stunt every night, and every night I have to stop you. I can’t let you put that in here. You are much too big!”

Astonished at Lucy’s words, Derek almost fell off the log. Though it wasn’t easy, he forced himself to remain still when her voice sounded again.

“Oh, well,” she said in a love-softened voice, “I can’t scold you for long, can I, darling, because I’m just so crazy about you. Here, sweetheart, I want you to take your time and savor this because I might not be able to sneak away to be with you for a while. My husband is furious over the time I spend with you. But don’t worry, he’ll soon be gone, and then I’m all yours.”

A rage swept through Derek. Why, the little conniving … all that pretense of innocence, saying she wasn’t ready, when all along she was involved in nightly romance with another man. At the thought of someone else making love to his wife, waves of jealousy, red hot and uncontrollable, washed over him. How dare she play him for a fool. And what the devil did she mean by “too big”? He would show her “too big” if it was the last thing he did.

He scowled, trying to imagine who her lover might be. What kind of man met a newly married woman out in the stable while her husband was inside the house? Obviously not a very talkative man, since he had hardly spoken at all, only snorting out a few words there at the end like some sort of heathen. Well, perhaps his young wife preferred brawn to brains. Brawn! He instantly thought of Colin, recalling the look Lucy had given the stable boy when she saw him after their picnic.

Boy, my eye.

They would both rue the day they’d deceived him. He jumped off the log, determined to barge in on the couple and claim what was his. Halfway to the stable door he stopped.

Lucy wasn’t his, was she? At least not yet. Not in the one way that mattered. And he wouldn’t humiliate himself in front of a stable boy by admitting that fact, especially when that stable boy was receiving more of Lucy’s favors than her husband was. There were other ways to deal with Lucy’s behavior, he told himself, and he had every right to do what he must.

Without another glance toward the stable, he stomped back to the house.

L
ucy climbed the stairs to her bedchamber, her steps slow and heavy, as she tried to sort out her feelings.

It should have been enough that she’d married him only to save Stonecrest and that she hadn’t wanted a true marriage with him, but it wasn’t.

It should have been enough that he was an American privateer and if the rumors of war were true, he’d be fighting her countrymen or at least running their blockades, but it wasn’t.

It should have been enough that he was hiding something from her, that she knew he had married her for some reason other than protecting her reputation, and that she had caught him hiding his interest in her father’s maps, but it wasn’t.

None of these things were enough to keep her from wanting him, and now, especially now that he was leaving on the morrow perhaps never to return, the desire she felt for him could not be quelled.

And it was her own fault.

Why, after avoiding him these past few days, had she insisted on dining with him, knowing how devastatingly handsome he would look? Why had she watched his every move, his every gesture, trying to commit each one to memory? Why did she insist on torturing herself this way?

He’d taunted her, taking every opportunity to brush his fingers against hers, staring at her with such a heated look of longing, she could barely force herself to look away. His eyes had caressed her, leaving her skin hot where his fingers had never touched, making her feel wanton as she remembered the intimate pleasure they had shared the night he claimed his prize for winning the race.

She paused at the top of the stairs, her hand clutching the banister, remembering how he looked when he’d joined her in the dining room. His skintight white breeches were like a second skin, displaying his masculine attributes to distraction, the silk of his shirt so thin that she could see the ripple of muscles as he lifted his glass to drink. His eyes had been on her throughout dinner, studying her, appraising her, desiring her.

And she had desired him.

By the end of dinner she’d decided to give in to her feelings, to consummate their marriage. What did it matter if he never came back? In fact, that would be safer, much safer. She would have one glorious night of pleasure with him, and then he would be gone forever and she would never have to regret or be ashamed of her behavior.

Then, as she waited for him to come to her at the end of dinner, to plead with her that they consummate their marriage on this last night, he’d arisen and excused himself instead, saying that regretfully, he had many tasks still to see to. Then he left. Left her sitting in her chair, unable to say a word, wishing she could run after him.

Her limbs were leaden as she turned the the handle on her bedchamber door. She was glad she’d given Bridget the evening off, even if her reason for doing so no longer existed, for endless chatter was not something she could bear to endure just now. She shut the door softly behind her, leaning back against it and closing her eyes, while she recalled the intensity of Derek’s stare when he first stepped into the dining room and saw her waiting for him. If only he weren’t leaving, if only she had been bolder, if only …

She undressed by the soft glow of candlelight, her mind still on the man who had turned her world upside down. Shrugging out of the bodice, she slipped her dress down over her hips and let it fall to the floor, remembering another night when she had removed another gown just so, and he had watched her, his eyes burning with desire.

She shook her head to dispel the vision in her mind, but it wouldn’t be banished, and she knew she faced another sleepless night. With a long sigh, she sat down to remove her stockings, remembering everything about the way he had looked the night he’d claimed his victory of the contest.

She remembered his strong, masculine body as he’d closed the door and then lounged against it, the curve of his sensuous lips as he warned her not to resort to trickery to avoid paying up, the longing in his eyes as they devoured every inch of her body. If she could only ever ask for one look from one man her entire lifetime, it would be for that look from him. Scared as she had been, that look had made her feel desirable.

She let her final piece of clothing drop to the floor and stood looking at her reflection in the mirror, no longer ashamed of her body because
he
had wanted her so. She lifted a hand and brushed her fingertips across her breast, watching her nipple tighten, and she closed her eyes, wishing it were his hand that caressed her.

She knew she shouldn’t feel this way. He could be a murderer or a thief, but she didn’t care. He would surely abandon her, but she didn’t care. She wanted him with a fierceness she wouldn’t have believed possible, at least she wouldn’t have believed it before tonight.

Her memories only served to arouse her further, but she was past caring now. Her hand crept down over her belly to brush the soft curls below. Lustful feelings sprang from her like a released coil, and she snatched her hand back as though it had been burned.

“Oh, Derek,” she whispered, “what have you done to me?”

“Don’t stop on my account, Lucy.”

She jumped at the sound of Derek’s voice coming from the shadows.

“Please, do go on, sweetheart. I find you full of surprises.”

As her eyes adjusted to the semi-darkness, she saw him, his presence incongruous among the dainty writing table and the high-backed satin reading chair. Her face flamed with the realization that he had seen what she’d done.

“As I said,
sweetheart,
do go on. I certainly wouldn’t wish to interfere with your nightly routine, at least not this part of it.”

His voice was mocking, his glittering gaze icy. The look of desire on his face was sullied by disdain, perhaps even disgust. She was all the more ashamed of her lustful behavior because of his obvious contempt of it. “I’m quite finished, thank you,” she replied in a voice little more than a whisper. “I was just undressing for bed.”

She knew from the heat of her face that it was scarlet with embarrassment. She reached for something, anything, to wrap around herself but found nothing. “Why are you here? You have been sleeping in your own bed for the past few nights.”

“It seems I’ve changed my mind about that. I find I’m lonely without my bride. From what I’ve witnessed the past few moments, it would seem my bride is lonely too. Come here, Lucy,” he commanded.

“I think not. I’m exhausted and need to sleep.” Lucy started toward the bed, but his growl had her turning to face him. “I’m n-not ready, and you promised,” she began unsteadily before she was cut off by his low roar.

“Not ready, madam? Not ready? I think you are more than ready. I said
come here!”

With great trepidation, she walked the few steps to him. Her legs were like jelly; she wished she had never disrobed. She had wanted to consummate their marriage, but not like this.

She came to a wobbly halt in front of him. “We have an agreement.”

“Closer.”

Derek’s voice was hoarse and strained as he tried to control himself. Now that the moment was so near, it seemed almost unreal, until he felt the heavy ache of his manhood, grown rigid with lust. She stood before him in feminine perfection, her long hair cascading over her shoulder, one silky tendril curling around her breast. He would not be able to stop himself this time, and why should he? She was giving freely to others what she denied her own husband, but it would go on no more.

The creamy skin of her belly was mere inches from his face and just below, the dark triangle of curls seemed to beckon him closer. A sudden surge of pure lust sent him to his knees.

Groaning, he wrapped his arms around her, laid his cheek against the softness of her skin, and drank in her scent deeply. She tensed as though trying to pull away, but he held her tightly against him. He greedily cupped her bottom, squeezing the soft flesh gently as he nuzzled her most sensitive place. He felt her resistance dissolve, and then her fingers were threading through his hair and she clung to him, moaning softly in surrender.

Her musky scent, the wet heat of her sex, caused Derek’s thoughts to flee. Unable to control himself a moment longer, he lifted her from the floor, his hands still cupping her bottom, and thrust his tongue into her cleft and withdrew, stroking her, tasting her, again and again. He reveled in the way she moved against him, wildly now, wantonly. His tongue found her swollen bud of desire, and he suckled gently, forcing himself to maintain control against her gasps and moans of pleasure, which threatened to send him over the edge.

He felt as though he were a starved man presented with a feast he had only begun to lay siege to when she collapsed against him, crying out his name, her feminine muscles spasming under his sensual assault. The thought that Lucy had found her release with his mouth on her almost brought on his own release, and so he stood and swept her up into his arms.

He strode to the bed, laying her gently upon it. What had started in anger had turned into a yearning and a lust unlike any he had ever known. He wanted to make Lucy his wife, his
true
wife, and she obviously wanted that too. He tried to shed his clothes quickly and gave up, ripping the buttons from his shirt. He unlaced his pants and shoved them down over his hips. His cock, thick and heavy with desire, sprang up, hard and throbbing.

Lucy gasped, her eyes wide and unblinking as she stared at his body. “It’s too big,” she cried out, her voice filled with fear. “Please Derek, it will never fit. It’s much too big!”

A wild fury swept through Derek, wiping out everything else as he heard Lucy say the same words she’d spoken to her lover in the stable. Pants around his knees, he realized he had not removed his boots, but his lust raged uncontrollably and this time, by God, he would find his release
inside
his wife. Their marriage would be consummated before he left, and other lovers be damned.

Falling clumsily onto the bed, his breeches caught around his calves, he spread her legs roughly, and with one deep thrust, buried himself in her, his sex contracting over and over as a powerful orgasm overtook him. Dully, in the back of his mind, he registered that he’d encountered her maidenhead and rent through it viciously. Even as his pulse slowed, shame and regret coursed through him as he realized what he’d done, that he’d judged her unfairly, jumped to conclusions, and taken by force something he’d wanted her to give willingly. Not only that, but he had broken his word, something he had never done in his life.

He lifted himself, watching her wince in discomfort as he withdrew, and saw her tears. Rolling to one side, he pulled her to him, cradling her in his arms while he whispered, his voice anguished, “Lucy, dear, sweet Lucy, forgive me. I thought … I thought …”