Can’t Buy Me a Duke by Bianca Blythe

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

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HARRISON SHOULDN’Tbring Lucy here. Still, no one went into this maze. It had been built several centuries ago when such things were popular, but now the novelty of mazes had vanished. Most people favored wandering in gardens where they weren’t surrounded by thick hedges designed to intimidate and test their intellect.

Still, no place exceeded this place in privacy, and Harrison had to speak to Lucy. He couldn’t risk their conversation being interrupted by someone wandering around upstairs, and what he had to say to her couldn’t be said in a corner of a drawing room where one could never be certain of the auditory powers of nearby festivity makers.

He marched through the maze, conscious of Lucy behind him. Tall yew hedges lined either side of him, but their woodsy scent could not equal that of Lucy’s distracting jasmine scent. He wanted to turn around and kiss her, but that was another thing he mustn’t do.

“What did you want to talk to me about?” Lucy asked, and Harrison swung around.

“I want you to know you’re magnificent,” Harrison said.

Her eyes widened.

“Spectacular,” he added. “And you’re more courageous than any of those women inside.”

“That’s what you dragged me here to tell me?” A smile played on her lips. He wanted to capture it with his mouth.

He nodded.

“That was kind of you.”

“I wasn’t trying to be kind.”

She raised her eyebrows.

“I was trying to be correct,” he emphasized. “There’s a difference.”

“Is being correct important to you?” she asked.

He started to nod, then halted. A funny expression must have passed over his face because Lucy stared at him oddly.

He averted his gaze. He didn’t want her to guess. No one could know the secret. He’d held it for too long to start confessing.

Lucy approached him with a determined look on her face. Then, she wrapped her arms around his neck and gazed at him. She kissed his cheek, and cherubs sang. His blood heated.

“What was that for?” he asked.

Her luscious lips curved, and her eyes shimmered. “Your sweetness.”

Poets always spoke about the beauty of emerald eyes. Harrison fully agreed. He lowered his head toward her.

Her lips were so near, so full and red, and they looked utterly and completely succulent. She drew back from him, but Harrison pulled her back toward him, lifting her from the ground.

Then, Harrison kissed her.

Truly kissed her.

He claimed her lips in a carnal impulse. The kiss smoldered. She melted into his arms and clung to him.

Her soft breasts pressed against his chest, and his arms found the delicious curve of her waist. He inhaled her jasmine scent.

Then, ever so gently, she kissed him back.

His heart thrummed and soared, and he was grateful for the multitude of his ribs, lest his heart decide to venture to the sky.

Nothing was impossible with Lucy.

His cock turned to stone. It longed to touch her wetness and to thrust inside her silky folds. It longed for her.

He longed for her.

She kissed him with a passion that made his heart lurch.

He’d kissed before, of course, but he’d always had the impression that those women had been appreciating his status and title and the overall ability of his features to meet the standards for handsomeness. A kiss with him was something amusing to tell the other widows, when they tired of disparaging the dresses of their least-liked acquaintances.

This was entirely different.

No woman knew him better than Lucy.

No person knew him better.

Standing was quickly becoming a ridiculous activity, one that might leave them vulnerable to being spotted by second and third floor viewing guests. He dipped her to the ground, thankful that Cornwall’s skies had decided to withhold from raining.

Normally, the dirt path could hardly be termed comfortable, but with Lucy in his arms, it quickly surpassed any bed in the world. He rested her over him, so the dirt would not stain her dress. Her soft bosom sank against his chest, and he ran his hands through her glossy red hair. Some of the pins had come loose, and he marveled at the length of her glorious strands that swooped around the delicate arch of her smooth shoulders.

She raised her head and grinned.

He’d never seen such beauty.

Freckles dotted her nose and scattered her cheeks. Her emerald eyes sparkled in a manner that would entice even the most practiced jeweler. He pulled her back toward him and trailed open kisses along the silky skin of her neck.

She moaned, and her long dark lashes fluttered down. She made that delicious sound again with her throat: low and velvety and utterly enticing.

He wanted to explore every inch of her. He wanted to be inside her. He wanted... Well, he desired everything.

And I mustn’t have anything.

Harrison halted his exploration of Lucy’s luscious curved body with reluctance.

She opened her eyes slowly, and confusion fluttered on her face.

“We shouldn’t do this,” Harrison whispered,

“I know.” Lucy’s voice was small.

“We’re not married, and I can’t—” He closed his eyes, and shame moved over him. “I fear I have some things to tell you. Some...unpleasant things.”

He grimaced and considered his past and his lies.

For a moment, Lucy was silent. Then she shook her head. “I don’t want to hear unpleasant things.”

“Excuse me.”

She raised her chin. “You can tell me later, if you want.” She chewed on her bottom lip. “But now I’d rather just continue.”

“You would?” His voice was hoarse.

She nodded, and her lips twitched. “And I suggest we do not waste time.”

Then there was more kissing.

Harrison lifted Lucy’s dress. He wanted to give her more. His heart stopped as he saw her long legs.

“You were correct,” he said.

“About what?”

“Your legs are fantastic.”

She giggled. “My drawers cover them.”

“I can still tell.”

“You’re a leg expert?”

“I have many talents.” Harrison ran his fingers over her silky legs, noting their shapeliness. “That said, I think I should inspect them more thoroughly.” He pulled on her drawers and slid them down.

Then he pressed kisses along her legs, claiming them.

A distracted moan came from Lucy, and he grinned. He wanted to give her everything. He reached to where her legs connected and delved his finger into the deeper recesses of her womanhood. His long fingers teased her secret bud, now delightfully plump, making her buck forward.

He continued to lazily move his fingers, enjoying the sounds of her writhing on the ground. Then, he kissed her petal-like interior.

*

HEAVENS.

This was—

Well, Lucy didn’t have any words for it, but she didn’t want it to stop. She never wanted it to stop.

Her core tingled and tightened and trembled. Harrison was touching her—there. And though Lucy was certain it shouldn’t have felt so good, it felt...delightful.

Her heartbeat pattered at an ever-increasing pace. Desire moved through her. Harrison quickened his kisses. The world thrummed, then swelled, then exploded.

Her heart raced, finally slowing.

Harrison moved from his newfound position between her legs and collapsed beside her.

“My sweetheart,” he said. “My lovely sweetheart.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer to her.

Harrison had been about to tell her something unpleasant, and she didn’t want to hear anything unpleasant. Most likely, he wanted to tell her that his mother would never permit the marriage and for some unspeakable reason that he would never go against her. Perhaps even, he would tell her that he required a bride who would be better suited to life in high society and who would never be the subject of scorn by women such as Lady Letitia. No, this was a far better plan.

Harrison removed her fichu, and his eyes shimmered. He seemed to find joy in her cleavage and traced the curve of her exposed bosom. Then he moved his lips to her bosom, and another moan escaped from Lucy’s mouth.

Something hard and firm pressed against her thigh, and she reached for it exploratively, marveling at the girth.

“You’re much larger than statues,” Lucy said.

Harrison chuckled. “I require multiple fig leaves.”

Sweat dripped from Harrison’s brow, and she brushed his hair aside.

Harrison bit his lip. “Would you like to—?”

He didn’t say the next word, but she was certain she knew what he meant. “I want everything.”

She nodded, and Harrison freed his instrument from his flaps. Lucy ran her fingers against his velvet shaft, wondering how the skin that enveloped it could be so silky, and the instrument itself so hard. Liquid oozed from the tip, and he shuddered as she touched it.

“Did it hurt?” Her heartbeat quickened.

He smiled. “Absolutely not. In fact, you can continue.”

He held her hand about his shaft and moved it in a rhythmic motion. His hand was large and heavy against her own. They returned to kissing, and then, Harrison’s breath quickened.

Then, Harrison grunted and collapsed beside her.

“That was...” He shook his head and smiled at her, then pulled her close to him. His heartbeat thumped against hers, and his breath remained erratic.

She sighed, enjoying the feel of his legs, of his torso, of his arms.

They continued to kiss, lightly now, without the earlier frantic energy. Happiness wafted over her.

Twigs crunched, and Lucy scrambled from Harrison’s arms.

The footsteps thudded nearer. Harrison heard voices. Voices that sounded curiously American.

Blast.

Harrison hastily tucked in his shirt.

“Let me help you.” He slipped her dress on over her shift.

“Lucy Alice Banks.” Mrs. Banks’s voice barreled toward them, as if she were an alto preparing to sing an aria at an opera house.

Horror moved through Harrison, and he stepped back.

Lucy covered her bare chest with her hands.

“Heavens!” Papa exclaimed. “What have you done to my daughter?”

“It’s not what it looks like,” Lucy said hastily.

“I’ve made two children,” Mr. Banks said. “I understand these matters.”

Harrison gazed at Mrs. Banks.

For some reason, she was smiling. Then she clapped her hands and beamed. “There will be a wedding.”

“There can’t be,” Harrison said, his voice hoarse and his heart hurting.

“But you compromised her,” Mr. Banks said. “She’s ruined.”

“Th-there won’t be a baby,” Harrison said meekly.

“Then she’ll be ruined and alone.” Mrs. Banks stared at Harrison in disbelief, then smiled. “But of course, you’ll wed her.”

Harrison was silent.

He didn’t want to look at Lucy.

He didn’t want to look at anyone.

Guilt moved through him. “I can never wed her.”

Lucy scrambled up, then ran away.