The Scoundrel Duke of her Heart by Violet Hamers
Chapter Thirty-Six
“Would you like to try the pudding, Your Grace? Cook has made some changes to the recipe and would like your opinion.” Bentley uncovered the dessert before her with a kindly smile on his face.
Like the evening before, Jenny dined alone because Nicholas was not home. He had left her a note, telling her that he had a meeting at Westminster. Jenny thought he was spending too much time with the Lords but it was his responsibility to spend a lot of time with them. He was the Duke of Seaton, after all.
She had her own life to live and progress to make in geology which she was spending ample time working on. This provided her with the distraction she required and she had barely left her laboratory today.
“Certainly, Bentley,” she replied, picking up her spoon and pausing to decide which of the two varieties to taste first: One was orange and the other brown. She chose the brown and scooped up a generous amount. Chocolate. Decadent chocolate that made her eyes close in delight. She smiled and looked up at the butler.
“I hope we are keeping some for the duke. He would love this.” She took another scoop, which melted in her mouth, and then another.
“Yes, Your Grace, we will keep some for him.” He pushed the orange pudding toward her. “I would recommend taking a few sips of wine so that you may better judge the other one.”
“Oh, I did not think of that.” To her surprise, the wine cleansed her mouth of the taste of chocolate, preparing it for the orange pudding. Jenny winced when she tasted it and Bentley’s brows rose. “This is perfect for the duke but I fear it is not for me. It is too sweet.” She sipped more wine and gave the chocolate pudding more attention.
“I shall tell Cook to use less sugar next time.”
Jenny nodded. “The orange flavor is nice, nevertheless.”
“Noted, Your Grace.”
“Have Sarah prepare a bath for me, please,” she requested after dinner as she was leaving the dining room. She was undoing her hair in front of the vanity table when Sarah told her that she had finished preparing the bathwater.
“Do you remember the wedding gift Mrs. Atwood gave me?” she asked her.
Sarah nodded and quickly retrieved it from one of the vanity table drawers and began to uncover the cap. Jenny rose and took it from her. It was time to put the citrus and orchid fragrance oil to good use after letting it sit in her drawer all these months. It was not for her vanity but she hoped that on her, it would be to her husband as honey was to bears.
She stirred the water with her hand after pouring generous drops of the oil and got in, allowing the fragrance to fill her senses and the water to relax her body. When Sarah brought out one of the simpler nightrails from her trousseau that she'd been using since her wedding, Jenny asked her to replace it with one of the silk ones Persephone had chosen for one such occasion as the night she had planned.
"I’ll wear the deep red one, Sarah," Jenny said from her bath, smiling as anticipation coiled in her belly. She was excited for Nicholas to return and for her to visit his bedchamber that night.
The wait is over, she thought. It is time to love my husband the right way.
After drying up and getting into her silky nightrail, Sarah proceeded to brush her hair that she had put up to avoid wetting. Their eyes met in the mirror and Sarah immediately looked away, her cheeks striving to match the redness of Jenny’s nightrail.
"What is on your mind, Sarah?" she asked lightheartedly.
"I beg your pardon, Your Grace?"
"Would you share what you’re thinking?" Jenny asked again, laughing at her maid's pretense.
"I think that not even the goddesses from the fairytales could hold a candle to you tonight, Your Grace," Sarah said, smiling. "And I think that His Grace would be positively stunned by your beauty when he beholds you later," she added demurely now.
"Well, let us hope that he does not forget to breathe," Jenny said with a chuckle, hoping she would be able to steal his breath tonight.
Some minutes before midnight, Jenny heard her husband moving about in his bedchamber and she bit her lower lip excitedly before slipping out of her bed and into his chamber. The sight of him standing looking out the west window, still dressed in his waistcoat and breeches, with his arms folded across his chest kicked her heart into thumping hard in her chest. A snifter containing some amber liquid rested on the windowsill next to him but it looked untouched.
He seemed lost in thought but turned at the sound of her entering the room.
"Are the carriages and lanterns providing you with adequate entertainment?" She covered the distance between them to stand in front of him. The sound of her heartbeat was threatening to drown out every other sound and she pleaded with it to calm down. "I think I'd like a painting of whatever has you so transfixed."
"Jenny," he whispered, his eyes darkening with desire as he gazed at her. A robe covered her red nightrail and if he could react this way before seeing the rest of her, then she must have done something right this night. She grinned. Sarah must have somehow foreseen the future because here he was, looking stunned.
“You have me transfixed,” he murmured, smiling ever so slightly.
Jenny circled her arms around his neck and raised herself onto the tips of her toes. “I am all yours, Nicky. Tonight and every night for the rest of our lives.” She drew his face down towards hers. He did not immediately pull her against him like the other times but after a beat, he did, claiming her lips with his.
His kiss was slow and sweet. He tasted every inch of her lips with reverence and Jenny thought her heart would explode from the joy of her triumph. "Oh, Jenny!" he groaned, pulling away a little to look into her eyes. "You make this so hard."
"They say nothing good comes easy." She stroked his cheek and he chuckled and turned his face to kiss her palm. Something shimmered in his eyes right before he closed them and Jenny thought it looked like sadness. This gave her pause but when his hand tugged the sash of her robe loose and pushed the garment off her shoulders, she closed her eyes and sank back into the moment.
He took a step back to regard her. Heat flared in his eyes and he sucked in his breath. “You…”
Jenny took his hand and placed it on one of her breasts. “Touch me, Nicholas.” He did not need to be told again because both of his hands cupped her breasts and he pressed his lips to her neck.
“God, you smell divine...you look divine…”
Jenny wanted this with every nerve in her body and she pulled his face up to kiss his lips while she arched her back, offering all of her to him. This is all I have, Nicholas. This is all I am and I hope you will accept it. Tugging at the tiny bows that held the straps of her nightrail together, he undid them and it slid off her body, pooling on the floor at their feet.
"Nicky,” she whispered against his lips, "Nicky, the bed."
He paused as though he was thinking, then scooped her into his arms and took her to the bed. His kisses did not stop but Jenny could feel his hesitation. He had hesitated before but not as he was doing tonight. She started to dismiss the thought but her insecurity reared its head again and fed her imagination with falsities.
Despite that, she let her hand travel lower to his breeches, brushing against his bulging desire. A groan escaped his lips and as though he had just been struck, Nicholas suddenly pulled away from her, staggering to his feet and looking like he could not believe what he had been doing. The expression of disbelief on his face reminded her of the one he'd worn after kissing her in the library at the Addbury ball before their marriage. There were other emotions on his face: Loathing, regret, wistfulness... He wore the expression of someone being forced to keep away which did not make any sense.
"Jenny, I am sor—"
"Don't!" she cried, her chest aching with barely suppressed emotion.
"I want to," he said, breathing hard as he ran a hand through his disheveled hair. "Believe me, Jenny, I want you so much it is killing me."
"Then why?" she asked, her voice almost breaking. If he wanted her as he said he did, then why was he rejecting her?
"I–I can't." He swallowed and took a step backward.
"Can't or won't?" She climbed down from the bed and approached him, a sudden gust of determination washing over her. His actions were wounding her but she was not going to give up so easily. Not after all she had been through. Not after all the years of longing and waiting for him… "Can't or won't, Nicky?" She asked again, cupping his cheek. He closed his eyes, appearing pained.
His hand came up to cover hers. She could understand none of what was anymore and what baffled her the most was the heartache he was choosing to put them both through.
"I can't, Jenny," he said again. "I recently discovered something about myself..." he trailed off, a faraway look coming to settle on his features.
"What is it about you that is keeping us apart?" Her eyes roved his body. Perhaps she was looking for a physical impairment; she was uncertain. Nothing was making any sense right then. His desire was still evident, both in his eyes and in his body. No man could feign that.
"I cannot give you what you want, Jennifer. What you truly deserve. I am incapable and maybe it is for your own good."
The finality she saw in his agonized gaze broke her heart. There might be no changing his mind. Not tonight. Perhaps not ever.
With grief filling every cell in her body, she found her robe and covered her body. "I am not asking for much though, am I?"
Nicholas said nothing but his eyes followed her around the room as she gathered her nightrail and went to the door.
"Goodnight," she said, the calmness in her voice contrasting with the tempest of her emotions. She opened the door and walked back into her bedchamber, flopping onto her bed and covering her face with one of the pillows.
Had he truly meant any of the things he’d told her on the night of the ball? Jenny wondered if he would have allowed them to consummate their marriage had they not been interrupted on that fateful night, considering his reaction to her advances tonight.
After what seemed like an eternity of tossing and turning in her bed, she sat up, angry and frustrated. She paced her room for a while then marched into her dressing room and donned on a dress and a cloak. Some air would do her a world of good right now.
Quietly, she left her room and subsequently the house, walking mindlessly until she found herself in the stables. She briefly paused to take in her surroundings. She had not expected to be here but since she was, she might as well take advantage of it. A friend of hers that lived here must be lonely and Jenny quietly let her out of her stall.
“Good girl, Umbra,” she whispered to the black Arabian mare and saddled her. "Let's blend into the darkness, my dear.” She stroked her obsidian mane before mounting and easing her into a canter out of the stables.
Light came on from the adjoining groom housing and a sleepy voice called out, “Who is there?”
Jenny neither looked back nor responded. Once she was out of the vicinity of the mansion and on the streets of London, she spurred Umbra into a gallop, tearing through the silent night with the staccato beats of the horse's hooves on and off the cobbles. For the first time in her life, she did not control the horse’s direction. She allowed her freedom to take her anywhere as long as it was far away from Nicholas and his house.
Yes, it was his house and not hers. Not until she was his wife in every regard. Her attention returned the moment they reached the fields of Hyde Park and Umbra slowed down.
Jenny smiled and gave the mare’s crest a pat. "I see you're a good girl who refuses to venture far away from home." Umbra snorted. "I wanted to go a bit farther, you see.” The horse snorted again, stopping. "Very well, I understand. I gave you the choice and you made your decision. I respect it."
Another snort came but it was not from Umbra. Jenny’s body tensed and her head turned, searching for the source of the sound as a shiver ran through her. The realization of how reckless she had been, coming out alone at this time of the night, tasted sour in her mouth.
A dark figure on foot leading a horse by the reins emerged from the shadows of the copse of trees behind her. Every instinct screamed for her to run but she was frozen in place.
Umbra let out an agitated neigh that pulled Jenny from her trance. "Easy, girl!" She tried to calm her but the mare persisted, rearing back on her hind legs and letting out a very loud neigh.
Jenny began to lose grip of the reins.
