The Doxy and the Duke by Caroline Lee

Chapter 2

Never married, hmm?

Adolphus Merritt, Duke of Cashingham, knew there were words for women who bore children out of wedlock, but he couldn’t see how they applied to Raina Prince. He liked that she was so forthright, which certainly added to the evidence she wasn’t exactly puritanical, but it was more than that.

She was kind and caring, that much was obvious, and she teased him. When was the last time someone—even Matthew—had teased him?

Never, that was when.

It’s because she doesn’t know you’re a duke, you idiot.

Well, yes, there was that.

But when she’d been introducing herself and her son in such simple terms, Cash had resisted the urge to hide behind his title, the way he always had. Instead, he’d called himself Cash, which was a diminutive few were brave enough to use.

He was always, “Your Grace” or, “the duke,” or more often, “the Duke of Cashingham, you know, the one with more money than Midas and a stick up his arse?”

Oh, he knew he was seen as imperious and cold, but that was a success, was it not? He’d worked hard to maintain that mien of aloofness his father had encouraged, and it had served him and his business dealings well.

Matthew was the only person he allowed himself to be…well, himself around.

But there was just something about this warm summer afternoon, with the sun shining merrily on the river, and this beautiful, refined woman, which made him want to be just Cash.

And she was refined. She might not be titled, but it was obvious she was well-schooled and understood social niceties, if only to laugh them off. She was far freer with her touch than any woman he'd met at a ball or musicale, or even the neighboring house party. And she made him laugh, which wasn’t something to be easily dismissed.

She was fun to be with, and he wondered if he could convince her to spend more time with him. Perhaps horizontally—

“Are ye hungry, Cash?”

He blinked out of a fantasy where he was feeding her strawberries covered in crème, to see her offering him an apple. Grinning abashedly, he took it from her, noting her fingers lingered against his own.

And if he wasn’t mistaken, the way her nostrils flared, and the subtle way she leaned toward him, all indicated she desired him as well.

Perhaps it was a good thing they were seated again, because this blasted swimming costume did nothing to hide his arousal.

Luckily, the lads didn’t seem to notice anything unusual. They now sat cross-legged on the blanket, forming the last two points of their foursome, so that they faced one another. While their parents sent one another teasing grins and heavy-lidded glances when the lads’ attention was elsewhere, Ewan and Matthew chatted happily about the river and the kinds of fish in it.

“Did you hear that, Mama? Matthew says there’s fish as big as me in there! Can I see one?”

“Well, I dinnae ken,” Raina answered smoothly, while handing her son an apple. “I’ve never fished in the Derwent, and I dinnae ken what we’d use as bait. After all, ye’d be far too big,” she teased and leaned over to tickle him.

As the lad folded over in laughter, Matthew spoke up, in that serious way of his. “I could take him, ma’am. I’m a good fisher; my father taught me! And we’d use worms or cheese for bait, not little boys.”

Ewan, still giggling, pointed at Raina. “Ye could help us dig them up!”

Although Cash suspected there wasn’t anything which frightened this woman, she played along by wrinkling her nose adorably. “Touch slimy worms? Me? Nae, thank ye! But I’ll hold the bucket for ye.”

Matthew was beaming. “I could show you how to attach them to the hook. I’m good at that!”

He glanced at his father, as if seeking agreement. Or perhaps permission? Either way, Cash granted both, dipping his head in acknowledgement.

“Matthew once caught a fish this big.” He held his hands about shoulder width apart, speaking to Ewan, and was gratified by the way the lad’s eyes widened in wonder. “He wasn’t much older than you are now.”

“Was it here? Did ye catch it here?” The boy was bouncing in excitement.

Cash nodded solemnly. “Right here in this very spot. My son excels at everything he tries,” he finished proudly.

As Matthew blushed and bit into his apple, Raina caught Cash’s eye and grinned appreciatively. He was surprised by the surge of gratefulness which welled up at her approval. He didn’t need anyone’s approval—he was a duke, after all. So why did knowing he’d impressed her with his praise for his son make him feel all warm inside?

That’s your cock talking.

Oh, right.

As Matthew launched into an explanation about the best ways to entice a trout, Raina’s grin widened. Holding his gaze, she bit into the apple, and how in all the hells did she manage to make something so simple look so sensual?

The red of the apple matched her hair, which was speckled with gold in the dappled sunlight under the oak’s branches. It really was a remarkable shade of red, almost fiery, and surely symbolized a personality to match. She wore it in a simple braid down her back, which had likely been for swimming, although small wisps of hair framed her face.

Although he knew she was likely a merchant’s educated daughter, or perhaps a disgraced member of the minor gentry, he was struck by the simplicity of such a coiffure. She’d braided her hair to go swimming with her son, but what would she say if he offered her a maid to arrange her hair or drape her in silks?

What would she look like wearing nothing but those red curls and his naked body?

As if she could sense his thoughts, her hazel eyes shifted to a knowing look, and he found himself grinning in acknowledgement. Here and now, his title and her past meant nothing. They were two adults, enjoying the summer afternoon with their children.

“Tomorrow, Mama? Can Matthew teach me to fish tomorrow?”

He watched as her gaze dropped to her son’s and saw the moment she understood what the question would mean. She opened her mouth to tell Ewan no, because Cash and Matthew only came to the river once a week.

But the thought of allowing that to happen—disappointing the boys, and in a very real way, disappointing himself—was abhorrent, so he beat her to the response. “Of course, lad. We could be here tomorrow.”

It was Matthew who gasped. “Really, Father? Twice in one week?”

Cash shrugged easily, mentally reorganizing his schedule. “I think, if our new friends are willing to come tomorrow afternoon again, instead of in the morning, we could make that work.”

While the lads celebrated in excitement, Raina dipped her chin in response to his unspoken question. She was so regal and beautiful, he damn near ached to learn more about her.

Cock, remember?

Damn, he must need some relief, because every movement the woman made caused him to stiffen.

“We can be here tomorrow afternoon,” she said, in that soft Scottish brogue he was coming to love. “I’ll pack enough lunch for us all.”

Ewan was practically bouncing up and down. “I’m going fishing, Mama! I cannae wait to tell Granda and Uncle Phin!”

“Father,” piped up Matthew, “do I have to wear a bathing costume tomorrow? Ewan swims in the nuddy.”

As Cash choked on his laughter, Ewan smacked Matthew’s arm. “Ye have to wear clothes because yer pecker’s bigger than mine. Uncle Phin says I’m a wee lad with wee parts that willnae scare the ladies.”

To Cash’s surprise, Raina blushed, her freckled skin turning a becomingly pink tint. He hadn’t thought anything could embarrass her, but apparently, her son’s poor manners did. As Matthew defended the size of his “pecker,” she groaned and dropped her face into her hands.

But once started, the rumble of laughter in Cash’s chest didn’t seem to want to stop. He was still chuckling as Raina tried her best to change the subject, and it almost worked.

In fact, his heart felt lighter than it had in…well, as long as he could recall. Usually, these stolen moments at the river with his son were the bright points of his week, but today…?

Today was special.

Even as he helped Raina pack up the blanket and the picnic basket, he had to fight back the uncharacteristic smile. He should be disappointed that their time was ending, but he’d been promised tomorrow.

And the promise of tomorrow was nestled in his heart.

* * *

Surprisingly,Cash managed to accomplish rather a lot of things the rest of that afternoon, and the following morning as well. There was the usual pile of correspondence, and the household budget from his townhouse in London, where his mother and much younger sister Carlotta currently resided, but his secretary helped him manage much of it. Although the poor man did wonder at his employer’s rush.

It was almost noon when he went to collect his son from the schoolroom, before stopping at one of the outbuildings to have the gamekeeper supply them with poles and buckets.

Thus loaded down, the pair of them began the hike to the river. It seemed closer today than usual, and Cash was cognizant enough to realize it was just his perception of things. This might also explain why he had been so eager to complete his business that morning.

He had a compelling reason.

One with bright red hair and an alluring smile.

Said smile—or rather, the memory of those lips around the apple—might also explain the vigorous hand-frigging he gave himself last night, but he supposed, as a gentleman, he shouldn’t dwell on that.

It seemed his son was just as enamored of their visitors as Cash had been, although he assumed Matthew’s interest was less base. The lad chatted constantly about his new friend on their walk, which made Cash wonder how starved the lad had been for companionship.

“Do you think Ewan and his mother are from the area, Father?”

“I doubt it, lad. We would’ve met them prior to yesterday were that the case.”

“Do you think so?” Matthew hefted the poles higher on his shoulders. “I suppose, since they’re Scottish, they could be visiting for the season. But it’s possible they just don’t travel in the same circles as you.”

Cash twitched a brow at his son’s observation. Had the lad turned into a bit of a class snob, then? He’d hoped, by keeping them both in the country—the far north country, at that—and away from Society in London, Matthew would grow to think of men as equal.

But perhaps not quite equal to you, hmm? Being a duke is second only to a prince really.

That was his father’s voice, he knew.

“Well, lad, no matter her rank, I would expect someone as lovely as Miss Prince to stand out.”

Matthew snorted softly. “That’s true. I like her.”

“I like her too, son.”

The lad glanced at him when he said that, and Cash hoped his tone hadn’t given away too much. But then they were at their swimming spot, and Raina and Ewan were already there. There was much exclaiming from the boys as their parents shared a smile, and they soon settled into the business of fishing.

While Cash supervised the boys in their attempts to find worms, Raina began to lay out the picnic lunch. She made them all wash their hands in the rushing Derwent, and even made a show of examining under Cash’s fingernails, which sent Matthew into peals of laughter.

Luncheon was surprisingly complex. No simple farmer’s fare for Raina; she’d brought delicate tea sandwiches and fruit tarts and lemonade. If she had access to a kitchen to produce such delicacies, Cash began to wonder if she was a guest at one of the nearby manor homes. After all, she and Ewan obviously walked to this spot each day, so she couldn’t be staying too far away.

Could she be…staying with a man?

Although she’d said she wasn’t married, that didn’t mean she didn’t have an arrangement with one of the local lords. Cash was honest enough with himself to admit he was already considering the proposition to her himself, and if she was taken, he was confident he could offer her enough to break off her existing liaison.

She didn’t seem to begrudge him his deep thoughts as she teased the boys into laughter while they ate. She was good with them, and the thought sent a shot of longing through him he hadn’t expected.

Before he had time to examine the reason behind it, he heard Ewan say matter-of-factly to Matthew, “Mama is the best Mama. And the funniest, and I have so much fun with her.”

Matthew nodded as he bit into his tart. He was careful to wipe his mouth with one of the linen serviettes Raina had provided, before cutting his eyes toward his father. “I think having a mother like your mama must be the best thing in the world.”

And here comes the guilt.

His son was subtle; Cash had to give him credit. But last year, he’d begun to hint to Cash he’d very much like a sibling, and when Cash—thinking the boy was old enough to have a frank discussion on the matter—had explained it wouldn’t be a legitimate sibling without getting remarried, Matthew had asked him why he hadn’t found another wife.

Somehow, the argument of, “I don’t have the time, and frankly, I like things the way they are,” hadn’t impressed the ten-year-old.

Cash might like things the way they were, with it being only him and Matthew together, but it was clear Matthew wanted more.

So Cash had agreed to put some effort into finding a new wife. Not much effort, granted, but some. He’d put it about that he wouldn’t be averse to finding his name on a few of the local hostess’s guest lists, and the matrons had been thrilled by the news. Of course, there was a limit to the number of social gatherings expected so far away from London, and he only accepted a minimum of invitations within those.

But in the spring, Matthew had asked again, and thus when the invitation to the Fangfoss house party had been delivered, Cash hadn’t immediately dismissed it.

He’d been unwilling to commit to an entire summer of frivolity, and saw no need to do so. After all, his compatibility with a lady could be found after a single dance, could it not? That is how he’d found Amanda, his deceased wife and Matthew’s mother, whose father had been a nearby landowner.

Thus, he’d written to Countess Fangfoss and announced his intention to attend her Friday evening affairs—dancing, most usually—in an effort to meet the lovely ladies in attendance.

From all accounts, the woman had all but fainted in excitement. After all, having a young, unmarried duke in attendance must have been quite the social coup.

But this week would mark the third such Friday he’d attended her affair, and each time, he’d danced with a perfectly lovely young lady…and each one had done absolutely nothing to interest him enough to ask for a second dance.

Not a single one of them had half the energy, half the blood-pounding intrigue, as the Scot sitting beside him on the blanket.

Of course, if one of those Society virgins had looked at him with the same heat Raina looked at him, perhaps things would’ve been different.

She continued to send him teasing looks as she collected the remnants of their luncheon—further evidence she was no pampered lady—and packed them away. Then she took one of Ewan’s hands and one of Matthew’s. “Well, lads, are we going to learn how to fish?”

“You, ma’am?” Matthew asked in surprise.

Cash watched as she squeezed his son’s hand in excitement.

“Of course! I’ve heard ye’re the best, after all, and as long as I dinnae have to touch a worm, I’m game.”

The look she sent Cash made him wonder just how game she was.

Teaching her and Ewan to fish was surprisingly fun. He remembered when he’d tried to teach Carlotta, and the disaster that had turned out to be. He loved his younger sister, but she was much too talkative to appreciate a pastime which required one to sit quietly in the shadows and wait for fish to take the bait. As he recalled, that was the afternoon she’d attempted to climb the oak and had fallen out instead…

Raina, on the other hand, took to fishing quite easily, and eventually confessed in an aside to Cash she’d been fishing in Scotland since she was a girl. Ewan, on the other hand, lacked the patience and ability to stay quiet and in one place for long, which was required of a successful fisherman, but the lad certainly seemed to have fun chasing after the smaller fish in the shallows.

After a while, the two lads resorted to cavorting in the water. Since both of them were still fully dressed, Raina made them strip to their smalls, which had made Ewan—and Matthew—laugh in delight. She’d called out challenges, and Cash had to chuckle as he watched the two lads try to outdo each other.

“You are good at this,” he murmured to her, as their sons tried to do push-ups under water.

She winked at him. “I’m just attempting to tire them out.”

Sure enough, after about an hour, she called both boys up to the blanket and helped them dry off. Then she had them lie down on their stomachs, one on either side of her. Matthew pillowed his head in his arms and watched her.

Cash saw her smile gently at his son, then place her hand on his bare back. The lad shivered slightly, then closed his eyes as if in pain. Frowning, Cash wondered if he should interfere, but then Raina began to sing.

It wasn’t that she had a beautiful voice, no, but her voice wasn’t bad, and she closed her eyes while she sang the lullaby, low and soft and sweet. That, combined with the gentle breeze and the murmur of the river, made even Cash wish he might close his eyes for a moment.

Then she began to rub the boys’ backs; not just Ewan, but Matthew as well. Cash saw his son’s eyes flash open in confusion—being caressed so intimately by a near stranger must’ve been a surprise—but just as quickly, his eyelids began to droop again.

And why not? The combination of her lulling song and soothing touch must’ve been heaven. Knowing Matthew had been missing this softness in his life made Cash’s heart clench; he now knew why the lad had asked for a new mother and regretted he hadn’t found one for his son.

But it was impossible to think about getting married again to a lady when Raina was sitting right there. Raina who, were she a lady, would be an ideal candidate for the position: loving, accepting, and adventurous.

Doxies don’t become duchesses.

The reminder didn’t chill him as much as it should, because he was too caught up in the speculation of who she might be.

By the time she was halfway through her third song, Cash knew both lads were fast asleep.

Slowly, her voice faded to silence, and when he glanced up from watching their sons, it was to find her looking at him. There was so much he wanted to say to her, to ask her… She’d gone through all this trouble to make sure their sons slept, and he didn’t want to waste it.

Instead of speaking, however, he pushed himself to his feet and held out his hand in silent invitation. A flicker of surprise crossed her face before she reached up and took his hand.

The same warmth—energy, electricity—he’d felt yesterday washed through him at her touch, settling in his groin in a most inconvenient way. Or possibly the most wonderful way.

He’d never undertaken a flirtation with a child nearby, much less two children, but he would brave many things for the chance to touch Raina Prince. Silently, he tugged her out from under the oak tree, nearer to the river. Once he was satisfied they were sufficiently hidden from the lads, he settled his hands on her hips.

She was surprised again, he could tell, by the intimacy of his touch. But if he had his way, she’d be experiencing his touch much more frequently.

“Raina, I must ask you something.”

Her fingers brushed against his shirt, exposed by his open waistcoat. None of them had dressed for swimming today, but they were still equally informal.

“Ye can ask,” she murmured in agreement.

Be my mistress.

But now that he had the opportunity, his words floundered. How could he ask something so intimate, so potentially life changing, without being certain what her answer would be?

“May I kiss you?”

It wasn’t until he saw the heat pool in her hazel green eyes that he’d realized he’d asked the question out loud, and winced at his awkwardness. He sounded like a schoolboy, infatuated with his first woman.

“I appreciate ye asking permission, Cash.”

The gentle way she said it made him wonder if there’d been men who hadn’t asked.

He swallowed. “And?”

“And I think I would prefer—if ye dinnae mind—if I kissed ye. I’ve been rather proud of my restraint thus far, to tell the truth.”

He stopped breathing. That was the only explanation for why his lungs suddenly felt too tight, and it felt as if he were floating above his own body. He watched, somewhat in a daze, as she lifted her hands to cup his cheeks, before pulling him down toward her.

When she brushed her lips across his, her eyelids fluttered closed as if she were experiencing ecstasy, and he damn near moaned out loud.

But then she kissed him again, and his breath whooshed out of him, and he sucked in another breath so quickly, he almost went light-headed. But he quickly recovered and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her flush against him. When her breasts crushed against his chest, she made the most enticing little mewling sound of want, and the knowledge went right to his cock.

She kissed like a woman who knew what she wanted—a woman who knew what he wanted. No shrinking violet was she; Raina’s lips and tongue kept pace with his until they were both gasping with need.

Cash couldn’t ever recall a kiss such as this one; a kiss which took him to a state of arousal so quickly he became dizzy. Or perhaps it was from the way all the blood in his body had dropped to his penis.

Yes, that’s likely it.

Dear Lord in Heaven, but Raina could kiss! He knew he’d be hard-pressed to contain his desire for her, hard-pressed not to lay her right down on the riverbank and open her blouse and tease her nipples—would they be as pink as he imagined?—and taste her skin.

But he couldn’t. Not with their sons—their innocent, trusting sons—so close by. Only the knowledge of Ewan and Matthew, sleeping peacefully on the blanket, helped Cash maintain some semblance of control.

It was difficult, but he managed to force himself to release her, to ease his hold on her. His only consolation was, when he pressed his forehead to hers in an effort to steady his heartbeat, her breathing was just as labored as his.

It seemed to him speaking would mar the moment, so he didn’t. Instead, he focused on the way his palms pressed against her warm back, and the way her fingers caressed the side of his neck, and the way he could still taste her sweetness on his tongue.

“Tomorrow?” he finally murmured.

She straightened, then peered up at him. Slowly, her lips—swollen and well-loved—curled into a smile.

“Tomorrow,” she agreed.