A Most Improper Duchess by Alanna Lucas

Chapter Twelve

It had been several days since he’d seen Alexandra, pressed against the wall, hiding behind a pedestal. She had looked so sad, so miserable. He’d wanted nothing more than to cross the room and comfort her. The Season would soon be at an end, and his mother fully expected an announcement to be made. This was to be the last ball he would attend as an unattached gentleman.

He watched the couples on the dance floor, each trying to impress the other in the marriage mart game. With only a few weeks left of the Season, it seemed as if there was panic in the air amongst those who’d yet to secure a proposal. Even Naomi was anxious about the outcome of the Season, not because Niall was pressuring her, but because their mother was. Mother had narrowed down her list of suitable gentlemen—from those of good family and fortune, “worthy enough to marry her youngest daughter.” Niall had had to refrain from laughter when his mother had spoken those words on their journey here. Mother was not concerned for anything, save her own reputation and social standing. He’d bowed to her demands for his own choice—or lack thereof—of bride, but he certainly wouldn’t force his sister to do the same. He would stand his ground and endure the dowager’s wrath.

As the music faded and the couples returned to their respective parties, Lady Nerissa rushed past Niall and whispered, “I must speak with you immediately.”

His gaze followed the direction in which she was briskly walking. The brown-haired beauty looked over her shoulder, then nodded toward a side corridor, indicating that she wanted him to go in that direction.

He didn’t know what was so pressing that she couldn’t wait until a more appropriate time. It was quite out of the ordinary, although perhaps that was appropriate considering the past week. He made his way toward the corridor, ensuring no prying eyes were following, or worse, his mother.

“Pst! Pst! Over here.” He heard Lady Nerissa call to him from a side room in hushed tones.

Propriety dictated that he not follow her into the partially darkened room. If they were discovered . . . well, it wouldn’t be any different than the situation he currently found himself in. Their engagement was to be announced two days hence at the extravagant ball her mother was hosting. At this point, he had nothing to lose. Shaking his head, he stepped into the room that was lit by a single candle. A moment later, she closed the door.

“What is so pressing? This is highly inappropriate—”

“I don’t want to marry you,” she blurted out. He thought he’d misheard her and was about to ask for clarification when she repeated, “I cannot marry you. I’m terribly sorry.” Her face was concealed by shadows, but her words were firm and confident, without a hint of sadness. “I’m certain my mother will not be pleased with my choice, but if I have learned anything from the three Grace sisters, it is to follow my heart.”

Slowly, the words penetrated his brain, and he formed them into a cohesive sentence. She didn’t want to marry him.

His silence must have alarmed her. She then added quickly, “And my heart belongs to Lord Jacobs. I hope you understand.”

“Completely.” Relief coursed through his body. “I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t need to say anything. We would never have suited, although I suspect we both would have made the best of it.”

“I was prepared to. I would never have done anything to dishonor you.” He meant every word. He would never do anything to disgrace the woman he married, even if it was not a love match.

“I know you wouldn’t have, and I thank you for that. But I think we both deserve a chance at happiness . . . and love.”

Wise words from someone so young. If only Society were driven by love, kindness, and respect, then the world would be a better place. Sadly, many would not know love or anything like it. There were too many marriages purely made for the advancement of rank, wealth, and lineage.

She took a step closer and out of the shadows. “And I think . . .” There was a long pause before she continued. “I think there is a remarkable lady who’s been aiding her friends in finding true love who has caught your eye.”

He’d been most careful over the years about burying any attachment for Alexandra. Had he somehow revealed his feelings? Did others suspect?

He was just about to ask when Lady Nerissa said with a sincere smile, “I wish you much happiness, Your Grace.”

“And I wish you many happy years with Lord Jacobs. He’s a fine fellow.” And he was. He was certain that the young baron would do everything within his reach to ensure this daughter of a duke lived the life she hoped for and wanted for nothing.

“Thank you.” Then, without any delay, Lady Nerissa took her leave.

Niall had been handed a chance at happiness he’d hardly dared hope for and did not want to waste another moment. And yet, he didn’t want the gossips to notice that he and Lady Nerissa had been gone at the same time and then returned to the ballroom within minutes of each other. He did not want to endure the censure of their wagging tongues. The worst, by far, was Lady Shepard.

An agonizing quarter of an hour passed before he made his escape in search of Alexandra. However, no sooner had he entered the refreshment hall than his mother stormed to his side.

Do not let her get the better of you.

“I’ve just received the most alarming news,” she started on a hiss. “Lady Nerissa was seen, not even ten minutes ago, sneaking off with Lord Jacobs.”

News certainly traveled swiftly. “How did you . . .”

“You know something.” Her gaze bore down on him, assessing him. “What have you learned?”

“It doesn’t matter what I know. What matters is that Lady Nerissa is happy—”

“And is disgracing her family with a baron!” Mother’s voice ricocheted through the room, startling those near to them. “All our plans were for what? You should have announced your engagement and—”

“And then? I’d have been miserable like you and Father?” He shook his head. “This is not the time or place to be having this discussion.”

Mother had already been the subject of the gossips earlier in the Season when she’d lost her temper over Mr. Norley and Naomi having lemonade. Clearly she did not want that to happen again. Appearances were important to her, and she would rather keep her mouth shut tight and let her anger build than allow anyone to see her in distress . . . again.

She pasted on a wide smile, sucked in her breath, and strolled away as if nothing unpleasant—unpleasant in her mind, at least—had occurred.

He spent the next hour searching the ballroom, refreshment hall, and card room for Alexandra, but she was nowhere to be found. Even her sisters had disappeared from the event. For a brief moment, he thought about going to Lady Middleton’s home, but the hour was late, and despite everything, he was a gentleman and acutely aware of how precarious his situation was. Even though there had never been a formal announcement about him and Lady Nerissa, he was very much connected to her family. He could not care less what the rumormongers said about him, but he had to consider Naomi. His sister was enjoying this first Season and he would not do anything to diminish her happiness or subjugate her to gossips.

Hours later, he was finally trudging up the grand staircase of his ducal townhouse to his suite of rooms. Upon his arrival home, Horace, their butler, had informed him that the Dowager Duchess had retired with heavy dose of laudanum, but not before yelling her displeasure about the world to the entire household. And that was precisely why Niall had gone to his club after the ball and not returned home with his family. He’d had enough of her lectures and antics for one night.

All he wanted to do was change out of his evening attire, have a glass of brandy, and determine his next course of action. As he entered his suite and then closed the door, the faint scent of vanilla drifted past him, reminding him of—

“Alexandra.”

*

Alexandra didn’t careif what she was doing was inappropriate. After Lady Nerissa had confided in the ladies of the salon earlier that afternoon and told them that she could not marry the man her parents wanted her to, that she was going to follow her heart and elope to Gretna Green with Lord Jacobs, all Alexandra could think about was confessing her feelings to Niall.

With the aid of her sisters, she’d concocted a plan to be seen at the evening’s ball, then would quickly return home and change into her men’s attire and sneak into Niall’s home. What she needed to say had to be done in private, not at some event where the loose-lipped lurked and she could lose her nerve.

She had donned her brother’s clothing once more and snuck out of her aunt’s home. Only this time she wasn’t attending an illicit masque or venturing into one of London’s notorious gaming hells in search of answers. No, tonight she was going to take a chance on love.

She traveled through the night, keeping to the shadows. Niall’s house wasn’t far, but it simply would not do to be discovered now, not after all the creeping around she’d done without being caught. This journey was more important than all the other escapades combined.

Her breathing quickened as she neared the ducal townhouse, revealing the coolness of the night in white puffy clouds. It was already quite late, and most of the servants should have retired, but she wasn’t taking any chances. She watched for movement through the ground floor windows, but there was no activity. Satisfied that her earlier assumption was correct, she went around to the rear servants’ entrance.

Soon she was winding her way up the servants’ stairwell. She opened the door on the family floor and was instantly met with the sound of the dowager’s wails and complaints.

“I cannot believe the daughter of a duke would choose a baron over a duke!” Her cry echoed down the corridor. Alexandra knew that the dowager was referring to Lady Nerissa. However, she truly wished the best for both Lord Jacobs and Nerissa as, in her estimation, the pair made a lovely couple. “Bring me laudanum!” Another wail reverberated from somewhere deeper in the house.

Alexandra counted to twenty, then eased the door open and peered around. She let out a long sigh. No one was in sight. Now was her opportunity. She edged out from her hiding place and started her search for Niall’s room. From a comment that Naomi had made, she knew that the dowager duchess’s rooms were at the opposite end of the house from those of her children, and she was certain that Niall’s room was in this wing.

The search did not take long. The moment she opened the second door, she was met with an earthy scent.

Books.

Without a doubt, this had to be Niall’s chamber. Upon entering the suite, she slunk from behind the sofa to the chair, just in case his valet was present. The soft, warm glow from the fireplace created shadows, concealing her presence. Once certain she was alone, she took off the hat and coat that hid her identity, then took the opportunity to look about the set of rooms.

They were very much like Niall, neat and tidy. Then her gaze drifted to a large writing desk with papers strewn across its surface. She looked at the various drawings, some done in precise detail while others appeared to have been sketched with a more relaxed hand. There was something sensual about those images, something personal, something—.

“Alexandra,” Niall’s deep, husky voice sent a ripple of desire through her body.

She turned around to face him. His features were cast in shadow, making it difficult to read his reaction to her presence. “Before you say anything or reprimand me for sneaking in here, or tell me how inappropriate I’m being, I wanted . . . that is to say . . .” Confessing one’s feelings was more difficult than she thought it would be. She took in a long deep breath to steady her nerves then blurted out what she’d been wanting to say before common sense took over. “I love you. I think I always have. You are my closest friend, the person I want to spend my days and nights with, to build a life with.”

One moment she was confessing her feelings, the next she was in his arms, his mouth on hers, telling her without words that she was loved. She’d found what she’d been searching for this Season—no, her whole adult life.

She laced her fingers through his silky hair, bringing him closer to her, wanting so much yet not knowing how to ask for what she wanted. He shifted the angle of his head, the spectacles he wore pressing against her cheek. She pulled back and looked into his green eyes, deep with hunger and desire.

Alexandra reached for his spectacles, “Do you need these?”

“Not as much as I claim to.”

To say she was confused was an understatement. The women of her acquaintance who wore eyeglasses were degraded by the perception of what it meant to wear them. Did only women suffer this affliction? “Why would you pretend to need them?”

He removed the spectacles and placed them on an obliging side table. He then brought her back into his embrace and rested his forehead against hers. “They helped me feel safe. I’ve never let anyone see me without them. It was easier to hide behind them, protecting who I truly was.”

“Who you truly were?” His admission caught her off guard.

“I enjoy reading dissertations on architecture and farming rather than hunting or watching a fight. I prefer the quiet solitude of an evening spent at home to attending the latest ball or soirée. You once said I was like a Doric column, neat and tidy, and classically understated, which is one step away from dull.”

“I see you, and you are without a doubt not dull.”

“I’m not?” She heard the challenge in his voice and accepted it.

“You are passionate.” She brushed a soft kiss to the corner of his eye, then trailed her lips across his smooth cheek and whispered in his ear, “And I suspect you have many hidden desires.”

It was as if her words inflamed him. One hand smoothed down her back, cradling her bottom, bringing her closer into his hardness, while the other worked to remove clothing. One by one, their garments fell until they stood naked before each other. His eyes glittered with desire—desire for her.

“Thank you for letting me see you without your spectacles.”

“Thank you for seeing me.”

She took a step closer, not just wanting to see but to feel and explore. Her fingers roamed over his smooth, muscular chest, then traveled downward toward his manhood. She’d never imagined a man could be so perfectly formed. She’d known Niall most of her life and yet never dreamed he looked like this. He was a Corinthian, indeed. His breath grew ragged as she continued her exploration. She wrapped her hand around his erection, feeling him grow harder in her hands.

“Alexandra,” he growled her name as he whisked her into his arms then took her to the bed.

His mouth trailed along her collarbone to the hollow of her throat then wandered down her chest. With each kiss, her heart beat faster and her body yearned for more. And when he took one hard bud in his mouth, sucking at the tip, she gasped in pleasure then begged for more.

“I want you, Niall. I want to feel you, all of you.”

He shifted his body, covering hers with his warmth. “This may hurt,” he said with such tenderness that her heart practically wept. Then, in one swift thrust, he was inside her.

She sucked in her breath as pain stabbed her, replacing the pleasure of moments ago. But, just as quickly, it subsided. He brushed tender kisses across her lips, his body remaining still as she adjusted to him.

Feeling bolder, she flicked her tongue across his lips. It was the only encouragement he needed. In the next breath, he’d taken her mouth in a heated, passionate kiss that made her toes curl. Hearts beating, bodies melding, they moved as one.

Her body was awash in a tide of pleasure, as sensations she’d never thought possible flowed through her, tumbling waves upon the shore. Niall was gentle and caring, bringing her pleasure she’d never imagined. This was the passion she’d been searching for.

A cry tore from her lips as she found her release. A moment later, a hoarse groan escaped his lips, then, keeping her within his arms, he rolled onto his back.

Alexandra could think of no place else she would rather be than wrapped in Niall’s embrace. She kissed his smooth chest, inhaling his scent that reminded her of reading a book on a chilly day.

“I love you with all my heart, Alex.”

She raised herself up and stared into his beautiful green eyes. “Does this mean you will you marry me, Your Grace?”

“It’s most improper of you to ask,” he teased then took her mouth in a deep, sensual kiss. “Only if you continue to be a most improper duchess,” he said in a husky tone that sent her pulse racing anew.

“That I can.” She rolled on top of him. “There are desires I wish to explore with only you, Your Grace. Each and every day.”

*

Just before dawn,and before the sun began to make its presence known to the world, Niall dressed a reluctant Alexandra and escorted her back to Lady Middleton’s home. As he returned to his residence, his thoughts centered on the many changes that had occurred over the past few days. He had waited a lifetime to have Alexandra in his arms, and he would not tarry a day longer. Today, he would secure a special license, then inform his mother of his decision.

Hours later, with his business concluded, his mother had only just emerged into the day parlor. Her mood was no better than it had been the night before.

“I have sent word to Her Grace informing her I wish to discuss Lady Nerissa. We will get—”

“Mother, I have secured a special license.”

The dowager’s eyes lit up, and a wide smile forced her cheeks upward. “Lady Nerissa has come to her senses.”

“In fact, she has.” He realized he was taunting the dragon, but he didn’t care. “She is to marry Lord Jacobs and—”

“But you secured—”

“A special license for me and my bride.” He paused, using his mother’s tactic for dramatic suspense. “Miss Alexandra Grace.” He braced himself for the hysterics that were certain to come.

A moment later, they did.

His mother pushed back from the table then stood with force, knocking the chair over. Her deep crimson cheeks filled with rage burned as fiery words lashed from her mouth. “I forbid it!” She bellowed. “You will not marry that . . . that . . .”

“You have no say,” he calmly stated. “It is all arranged.”

He did not wait for her response but strolled from the room, in control of his life. He could hear her wails and cries as he emerged into the bright day. For the first time in his life, he felt refreshed without the weight of responsibility bearing down on him. Being a duke meant he had numerous duties, but he’d realized those never really bothered him. It was the demands of his mother that had been dragging him through the murky depths of barely existing. With the woman he’d always loved soon to be at his side as his wife, his duchess, anything seemed possible.

*

Several days later,under a cloudy sky that threatened rain, and surrounded by their closest family, Niall and Alexandra became husband and wife. Afterward, they returned to Lady Middleton’s home for the wedding breakfast. It was a joyous day surrounded by those Niall cared most about. Even his mother had managed to paste on a tolerable smile for the event. He hoped with time she would come to terms with his decision and embrace her new daughter-in-law. Something deep down told him the dowager was not capable of such affection, but he could hope.

It seemed as if most of the ton attended the wedding breakfast too. Much to his annoyance, he didn’t have even five minutes alone with his bride. He counted down the minutes, then seconds, till they could depart and he could finally have her all to himself.

His estimation was drastically wrong.

Hours later, they were finally ensconced in the ducal carriage, journeying through London, attempting to make their escape to the country. He could not wait until they were truly alone. He wanted nothing more than to take her clothes off and worship her.

“I think I know what you’re thinking, Your Grace,” she said in a seductive tone that sent his pulse racing.

He pulled her across the seat and onto his lap. “And what am I thinking, Your Grace?” he said, then plundered her mouth with a long, seductive kiss.

“Yes,” she purred, as she ran her fingers through his hair. One hand then traveled down his chest, edging further and further down. “Just what I thought.”

“You are a most improper duchess.”