Page 6 of His Darling Duchess
“Very well.” Lady Lymsey accepted her suggestion. “I am going to find your father; make sure you sit with us at supper.”
“Yes, Mama,” Aurelia agreed, thinking at least that would give Grantleigh the opportunity to talk to her father about politics it seemed he so desired. “Would you mind very much if we took a turn about the room instead of dancing?” she asked as she accepted Grantleigh’s offered arm.
“If you like. You look hot, and tired,” Grantleigh said bluntly, and she almost gasped at his rudeness. Louis might have spoken so, but Louis was her brother, not her suitor!
Jaw clenched as she held back a furious retort, Aurelia paced deliberately slowly, mindful of her sore feet, holding Grantleigh’s arm tightly so he was forced to take small, mincing steps. She smiled at everyone she knew, pausing to speak to several, even giving Grantleigh an opening to talk politics with one of her father’s friends. He remained aloof, though, saying little and looking irritated all the while.
“Let us take a break from the noise,” Grantleigh said abruptly as they approached the ballroom doors.
“Indeed,” Aurelia agreed, thinking she might take the opportunity to chide him gently and remark that his attitude did him no favours in the eyes of those he apparently sought to impress.
The chattering throng seemed just as thick outside the ballroom, though, and Grantleigh sighed impatiently and led her down the stairs to the ground floor, passing the card room. Father’s probably in there, Aurelia thought, peering through the fug of cigar smoke but failing to see him.
“This way,” Grantleigh placed his hand atop hers and led her on to where a lone footman stood outside a closed door. He nodded sharply to the man.
“Lord Grantleigh?” John said uncertainly.
“Open the door, man,” Grantleigh snapped impatiently.
Born the fourth son of a Staffordshire pig farmer, John had little to no idea how the aristocracy worked. He did know the Duke of Stowe, his former captain, was nearly at the top of the tree, and the duke had said the library was off limits to party guests, but Lord Grantleigh wasn’t exactly a guest, was he? He was the duke’s cousin, who lived in the house. A word from him could probably see John lose his job, and he looked very displeased with the delay while John thought it over.
John could quite see why Grantleigh wanted to be alone with the beautiful young lady on his arm, too. She was prettier than any girl John had ever seen, hair as golden as a wheat field and eyes of a soft, golden brown. She even smiled at John, her eyes sparkling brightly. A little dazed by the way she looked, John fumbled for the door handle and pushed the library door open, remembering at the last moment to bow respectfully.
“Thank you,” it was the young lady who spoke, her voice sweetly musical.
Now there’s a real lady,John thought as he closed the door behind the couple.Lucky Lord Grantleigh!
The library was quiet and dim, only the firelight faintly illuminating tall shelves packed with books and a few scattered chairs and couches. Grantleigh immediately took up acandelabra from the sideboard and lit the candles from the fire, moving about the room and touching flame to every candle until the library was almost as bright as the ballroom had been.
While Grantleigh busied himself, Aurelia picked up a single candle and went to look at some of the books. She enjoyed reading and availed herself of her father’s extensive library regularly, but this collection outstripped Lord Lymsey’s twice over, if not more.
There were books in French, Spanish, Italian and languages she didn’t recognise on the shelves as well as many titles in English she knew and others she did not, and she thought most of the books were new. Fascinated, Aurelia wondered aloud if the new duke spoke all of these languages.
“Yes, he does, and he’s bought out half the bookshops in London to stock his library,” Grantleigh answered her. “There’s an even bigger one now at Stowe Park.”
Aurelia thought she would very much like to see that, one day. Carefully sliding a book from the shelf to examine, she glanced up at the sound of glass chinking on glass, and saw Grantleigh pouring himself a drink from a decanter.
He’s very free with the duke’s possessions, she thought. Although I supposed he does live here — still, it seems arrogant.
Returning her attention to the book, she didn’t hear his stealthy approach until an arm slipped about her waist. “Oh!” she jumped, almost dropping the book, and attempted to retreat a step or two, only to find herself hemmed in by the corner of the room and Grantleigh’s arms.
“My dearest Aurelia,” he said thickly, and she could smell the brandy on his breath.
“Lord Grantleigh!” Shocked, she tried to push him back, but he only pressed closer.
“You must call me Nathan, my darling.”
She’d called him that in her daydreams, but just now, the thought seemed both inappropriate and unwanted. “Unhand me, Lord Grantleigh,” she said repressively, trying to emulate her mother at her most crushing.
Ignoring her request, Grantleigh plucked the book from her shaking hand and tossed it carelessly aside. It fell to the floor, and Aurelia cried out in objection. “What are you doing?”
“I can suppress my feelings for you no longer, Aurelia,” Grantleigh said, and she had the strangest feeling that he was reciting a speech, words he had prepared and memorised in advance of this moment.
“I wish you would try!” she said bluntly, putting a hand on his chest and pushing hard, trying to put some space between them. He was too strong, though, pulling her closer, hurting her wrist when she tried to hold it stiff between them.
“My passion cannot be denied any longer,” he declared, talking right over her when she tried to deny him. “I must make you mine, tonight!”
“No!” was all Aurelia managed to cry out before he forced his mouth down on hers, one powerful hand gripping her hair to hold her head still. His tongue pushed into her mouth and she gagged, struggling to breathe as her nose was mashed against his cheek.
