On a Wild Duke Chase: The Wayward Woodvilles Book 2 Page 8

  "Really?" Lord Leigh queried. "I have been to many house parties, and no betrothal has been announced. I do not find that there is anything to be concerned about."

  "Of course, Lord Leigh. You have been most attentive to all of us ladies, which we're very fond of, as you well know." The look that Lady Susan gave Lord Leigh was anything but innocent. It looked predatory.

  She clamped her mouth shut, annoyance running through her at the thought of Lady Susan trying her wiles on Lord Leigh. A distressing thought indeed, for Isla could not say with absolute certainty that it was because he was a fortune hunter, and she wanted her to be safe from such vultures. Or if the thought of Lord Leigh kissing anyone the way he had kissed her left a hollow pit in her stomach.

  The realization struck her, and she stood. Her chair toppled backward, and she glanced at both Lord Leigh and Lady Susan. They watched her, Lady Susan with smug satisfaction. Lord Leigh, however, appeared concerned at her distressed countenance. "If you would excuse me. I need to return to the house."

  Isla fled, not caring what anyone thought. She just knew she had to get away from Lord Leigh and the jealousy that spiked through her blood, leaving it hot and angry at anyone who wanted him for themselves.

  Anyone who was not her.

  Chapter

  Twelve

  Duke excused himself from Lady Susan, ignoring the startled, mumbled communication that spilled forth from her pinched lips at his leaving, and went after Isla. Something had distressed her, and he was certain it had not been his hand. Even though touching her had been all he thought of from the moment she left him in the closet the night before.

  He had taken himself in hand back in his room. The thought of her stretched out on his bed, her long, brown locks strewn over his pillow, had been all that it took to come.

  Even now, she was all he thought of. Not merely to tease, which he enjoyed immensely, but to simply be in her company. She was a steadying presence, kind and welcoming to all. So different to the other ladies at the ball whom he knew wanted him for his title as much as he needed them for their money.

  No matter whom he chose, the union would not be the happiest of marriages. Even so, the worrying thoughts of his impending marriage were the least of his concerns. Not when Isla had looked genuinely upset. She had paled and panicked before his eyes, but why?

  He increased his pace, thinking back to what Lady Susan had said. She had complimented him on his attention and care toward the ladies at the house party before throwing him a look that he’d seen often on the finest courtesans in London. A look that told him he could tumble her in any closet or room in the grand house behind them anytime he wanted, and she would not complain.

  Isla had seen that look, and it distressed her.

  He checked her whereabouts and saw her enter through the library. A room that had been off-limits to the guests. He went via the terrace and parlor, not wanting to raise suspicion, but used an interior door to enter Lord Billington’s library.

  He caught Isla pacing before the unlit hearth. She halted at his interruption and did not say a word, merely watched him. Her color was high, bright, rosy cheeks that made her appear flushed and bothered.

  “I was right, was I not?” he asked, taking his time coming closer. Her eyes were wide as if she could take flight at any moment. He did not want to scare her away. He wanted her to never leave if he were being honest.

  “About what?” she asked, taking a deep breath that pushed her ample bosom up in her gown. He bit back a groan, his obsession with the chit beyond the pale.

  “Outside just now with Lady Susan. Her words regarding my attention to the ladies caused you distress, not entirely because of what she said, but how she looked at me. You saw that look, did you not? And you did not like it.”

  Her lips pursed, and she narrowed her eyes. Hell, she was beautiful. So wonderfully obstinate and different from everyone else. How could he not follow her back to the house? How could he not follow her anywhere?

  “I do not care what you do with Lady Susan. It is your life. I have no say in it.”

  “Liar,” he accused, towering over her, her small gasp making her lips part in the most mind-altering way. “Admit you like me despite your hatred for my plans for a wife.”

  She threw up her hands, gesturing wildly. “Fine, I shall admit it. I think you are too handsome for your own good and I think you know it. I thought you the most kind and sweet gentleman upon meeting you at this house party, but my opinion of you changed the moment I heard your discussion in the library with your friends.”

  He nodded. Finally, he knew why she had been determined to cause an issue with him and the other ladies he had been trying to court. Not that he could concentrate on any of them. Not with this chit always about and distracting him.

  Even now, he wanted to dismiss their argument and pull her into his arms and kiss away her denial. She would relent. She would kiss him back. He knew it as well as he knew he would take another breath.

  “Men marry for money all the time, and women marry for rank and prestige. I regret you overheard a short, callous conversation, but you have not been in society, Isla. You will learn next year at your Season just how cutthroat the ton can be in getting their own way.”

  “I will not marry for money or prestige. I want to marry for love. How can anything last, withstand life’s trials if it is not based on friendship and affection? I feel sorry for you, Lord Leigh. You will rue the day you marry for convenience. And I hope this conversation comes back and haunts you as a time where you could have chosen differently when you did not.”

  He swallowed, the pit of his stomach churning at her words. He did not want a marriage of convenience. Each time he was around Isla, he understood that more and more. But what was he to do? How could he seek the woman before him when she did not come with any money to save his name? To save his mother from the lie she was punished for?

  “You speak as if you will have a choice on your future, but you will not. Do you have a substantial dowry, Isla? Are you an heiress, and no one knows? If you do not, your mama, like all the others, will push you toward men like me, and you will marry one of us. Do not crow so soon that you have better morals than I.”

  She glanced away, swallowing, and he narrowed his eyes on her. “Are you an heiress?” he asked again. He didn’t want to hope that she was, for then he could marry a woman whom he liked and enjoyed her company, no matter their bickering, and she could save him too. She would not believe him, of course, but he could make her believe him in time.

  “I am not an heiress,” she said, clearing her throat. “Do not pretend that admission disappoints you, Lord Leigh.”

  “No matter what you believe, I do not go around kissing women at house parties. I have only kissed you, and I only want to kiss you.” And he could not have her. She would never be his. The pain that shot through his chest made him catch his breath, and he moved over to the settee, sitting.

  He glanced up and found her watching him. What was she thinking? Did she feel the same? Did she want him as much as he wanted her?

  “Please kiss me one more time, and I promise to leave you to find the grand love of your life.” The man who would not be him.

  How he hated his father right at that moment. For squandering the family fortune, leaving the bare minimum to run the estates. Leaving his mother to rot in Bedlam for crimes she did not commit.

  She worked her clasped hands before her, and he could see she was debating his request. He had never begged a woman before for their touch, and yet, if she did not come to him, he was certain he would die from her denial of him.

  He saw the moment she decided, and gasped as she threw herself onto his lap, her lips taking his in a kiss that sent him reeling. He clutched at her, holding her steadfast lest she fled from him forever.

  Her tongue tangled with his, their breaths mingled. He moaned as her hand moved beneath his coat, sliding along his waistcoat and shirt. Her touch left fire in its wake. No matt
er their differences, their many arguments, they knew how to do well together in this way. He was utterly in lust with her and never wanted her to leave him.

  Lust, Duke? Are you sure it is only that? his mind taunted.

  He ignored his thoughts, reveling in the feel of her on his lap. Her ample bosom constrained against his chest, her soft, round bottom pressing against his growing cock. She seemed to understand what she was doing to him and wiggled, sending fire to course through his blood.

  “I should not be doing this,” she breathed, breaking the kiss. “But you are right. I cannot get enough of you either, as furious and distracted as you make me.”

  Her words sent relief to pour through him, and he took her mouth in a punishing kiss. He wanted her to remember this. He wanted her to always think of him when she kissed another man.

  His hands were everywhere, mentally imprinting her on his mind to get him through the many years ahead.

  Marry her. Find another way to make up the money your father lost. Sell the London town house.

  “Enough,” she said, moving from his lap. He reached for her, wanting her back in his arms, but she shook her head. “No, Lord Leigh. No more.” A pained expression flittered across her face before she blinked, and it was gone. “Marry your heiress, and make the best of your marriage. I do wish you well.”

  She left the room, and he heard her order the footman to fetch her maid. She would leave the house party. He knew it to his very bones. Duke stared at the unlit hearth, fire and pain coursing through his blood in equal parts. He leaned on his knees, steepling his hands. He would not go after her. He could not, even though his body roared to do exactly that.

  He had to let her go. He had to save his mother and keep all those employed at his estates engaged. There was no other choice, even if he wished for such a different future right now.

  A future with Isla Woodville, as poor as they would be.

  Chapter

  Thirteen

  The Season 1806

  Isla made her curtsy to Queen Charlotte and was now officially out in society and ready to commence her first Season. Her mama had outdone herself, hiring the finest modiste in London and having her dressed to perfection like those who ruled London during the social swirl. Her gowns were of the finest silk, and a maid was hired just to prepare her hair each evening for the events she attended.

  Her sister Hailey, now the Duchess of Derby, was back in London, having come home from their honeymoon abroad to support her in her first foray into the haute ton.

  The balls and dinners so far were beyond what Isla had imagined, and thankfully her friend Harlow had accompanied her in town, her family taking up residence not far from where they stayed on Grosvenor Square.

  She was glad of her company, for Harlow was the only person who knew what she suffered. A broken heart from a man who, in truth, did not deserve to hold her love at all in his power. But he did.

  She took a deep, calming breath and made her thanks and felicitations to Lord and Lady Collins, who were hosting tonight's ball.

  The ballroom, upon entering, was a feast for one's eyes. Several crystal chandeliers glowed above the polished ballroom floor, reflecting off the wooden surfaces and the glittering gold leaf on the furniture. Her ladyship had infused the room with bouquets of roses, and the sweet scent went some way in stunting the nauseating smells of cologne and sweat.

  They moved through the throng of guests, greeting those who they knew as they went to find a place in which to stand and enjoy the night's revelry. Isla spotted several gentlemen who had taken a keen interest in her, and she smiled in welcome, but the gesture went only skin deep.

  None of the men sparked anything deeper within her. None challenged her or disagreed with her. None of them, in turn, made her stomach flutter and her heart race. Whatever would she do if she did not find a gentleman who gave her a little of what she felt with Lord Leigh?

  "Isla, do not look, but Lord Leigh is here. He's leading Lady Susan out onto the dance floor." Her friend Harlow nodded in the direction but did not look directly.

  Isla was not so subtle. She glanced to where Harlow suggested and met the startled gaze of Lord Leigh. His steps faltered before he righted his footing and proceeded to ready himself with his dance with Lady Susan.

  The Marquess of Craig's daughter looked well pleased and smug in Lord Leigh's arms. And so she should be, Isla supposed. She would gain a viscountess title, and he would gain her fortune. What a triumph marriage for them both.

  She could not tear her eyes from him. He had not changed in the few months since she had seen him last. The day she had kissed him in Lord Billington's library had been the day she fled back to Grafton. She knew if she remained at the York estate, she would crumble, make an error of judgment that she could not take back.

  She would have lain with him, and he would not have married her since he believed her to be of meager funds. Her parents had married for love, and now so too her sister. She was determined to do the same. The heroines in her books always gained their happy ever after, and there was a man out there for her. She was sure of it. A man who would love her and make her feel all she had felt with Lord Leigh. She merely had to find him.

  Isla sighed. To think Lord Leigh was that person was an error she needed to forget. He required an heiress to keep himself out of debtor’s prison. Isla wanted a love match. Their paths, therefore, had no reason to cross again.

  His dance with Lady Susan seemed pleasant, and Lady Susan laughed and fluttered her lashes at his lordship at every opportunity. That he did not look in her direction again told Isla everything she needed to know. He had moved on, forgotten about her, and that was for the best. She would not marry him merely to save his financial woes. She deserved better than that.

  "I know you do not like to talk about it, but are you well, Isla? You do look a little out of sorts."

  Isla threw her friend a consoling smile. "I am fine, Harlow. It is merely a shock to see him again after so long."

  "Did he write to you at all?" Harlow asked.

  Isla accepted a glass of ratafia from a passing footman and took a fortifying sip, needing to remove the lump wedged in her throat. "No. Not once, not even to apologize." Not that he needed to say sorry for anything. Not really. He was honest with her and told her of his needs. If anything, she was the one who had lied. She had told him she was not as wealthy as she was. As wealthy as all of her sisters were. If he married Lady Susan and found out about her lie after the fact, she wondered if he would be angry. If he would seek her out and demand to know why she had said what she did.

  That she was not an heiress when she was.

  And she would have to tell him it was because she wanted him to love her for the little he thought she did have, not for what she actually could give him. How could she give herself to someone for something as invaluable as money?

  She could not.

  "Are you going to be well enough to see out the Season with his lordship in town? You may witness many such nights with him paying court to someone else. I do not want your Season to be ruined or upsetting to you," her friend said, reaching out and placing a comforting hand on her arm.

  Isla shook her head, determined to move forward. She could not change Lord Leigh's determination to marry money. But she could determine who gained access to hers. A man who loved her. That was what she wanted.

  But you will lose him…

  The thought haunted her, and her gaze stubbornly slipped back to Lord Leigh and Lady Susan. They made a striking pair. They were a beautiful couple. For he was titled, and she was rich. She had never been one for petty feelings or hating anyone for any reason that was not warranted, but she disliked Lady Susan at that very moment. Not because she wished to marry to gain a title, but because it would mean she would lose Lord Leigh.

  She schooled her features, blinking back the tears that horrifyingly filled her eyes. She would not cry. Not here and not before the ton.

  The dance came to an end
, and Lady Susan clutched at Lord Leigh as if he were some lifeline she had to hold on to to remain in this glittering world.

  He escorted her off the ballroom floor, his gaze moving back to her just before she lost them in the crowd. "If you'll excuse me, Harlow. I need the use of the retiring room." She fled the room, needing air, space, a quiet place to think.

  She made her way upstairs to where a maid directed her and moved along the hall. This part of the house was quieter than she presumed it to be. The muffled sounds of the ball floated through the house, along with the sound of her slippered feet on the Aubusson rug.

  "Isla!"

  The familiar voice sent a shiver down her spine. She increased her steps, slipping into the retiring room only to find it empty. The door opened behind her, and she stumbled out of the way as Lord Leigh burst into the room, shutting and locking the door behind him.

  "What are you doing?" she accused him. "You cannot be in here. We'll be caught, and then your plan to marry Lady Susan will be thwarted."

  "I did not know you were in London," he said.

  That was all he had to say? He did not know she was in town? "We arrived three weeks ago and have been renting a house in Grosvenor Square. I have made my curtsy to the queen and have attended several events. I'm not hiding my presence here in town if that is what you're wondering."

  "And have you found any gentlemen to your liking?" he asked, his dark, hooded eyes flashing with something she could not discern.

  She shook her head. "Not yet, but it's early in the Season. I'm certain I shall, not that I need to tell you anything about it." She wanted to hurt him, say mean things even if they only served to make her feel better. After seeing him with Lady Susan this evening, she could not pull forth an ounce of pleasantness toward his lordship. The sight of him with another lady hurt too much.

  "I, too, have been having a very successful time in town. Without the interruptions from a certain lady, whenever I speak to women. It makes courting much easier, I find."