Page 22 of Denying a Rakish Duke
“If only we all could hope to have a memory as fantastic as yours, Lady Thompson.”
“Please, youmustcall me Isadora. I do not think that any two attractive people who know one another as well as we do should have to use honorifics behind closed doors. Do you not agree?” She pressed her lips together and made a soft cooing sound.
The desk above Vanessa was slammed into, and she was forced sideways by the sudden motion of it. Her eyes burst open, her heart pounding as she clamped a skirt-filled hand to her mouth to keep from making even the smallest sound.
“Perhaps, though it has been quite some time since we have known one another in an informal way,” Joseph said casually, but he sounded as if he was further away from the desk. Had Lady Thompson slammed herself into the desk? How much had she drank at dinner? Vanessa had not been paying attention to her. Lightning could have struck the dining table in front of her, and she did not think that she would have noticed— certainly not when he had placed his knee against hers.
“I know that, but it is much the pity. I know that you were gone for some time … and now I have had rumors that you are looking for a wife? Tell me that it is not true; I do not think that I would be able to abide it!” Isadora gasped dramatically. A rustle of fabric and Vanessa could see the widow’s skirts lifting to expose a slipper and bare ankle from where Vanessa hid under the desk.
Was she disrobing? Why was the Duke doing nothing to stop her from it? They could not possiblykissin the room! She would lose her sanity. She should scream, jump out from under the desk and scare them. She should startle them and then berate them for trespassing! Was that not what the Duke had accused her of doing in his own home just the other night?
“You never miss a single thing, do you, Lady Thompson? I shall confess to only one thing— and that is no matter how much time has passed since I last laid eyes on you in private, you remain just as lovely.”
Above her, Lady Thompson giggled in her shrill voice, and Vanessa rolled her eyes. Perhaps it was for the best that none of her suitors remained interested in her long enough if this was the natural course of things. She could not imagine forcing her voice to that pitch. Was this what the Duke liked? What hereallyliked? Why had he not answered her questions about marriage either?
“I miss plenty of things, Your Grace, just perhaps not in the way that you are meaning. For example,” Another rustle of fabric— was she lifting her skirts higher? It was impossible to tell, but Vanessa could see her feet sliding apart, dangling at a wider angle than before. Just what was she doing? “I miss the way that you feel between my thighs … it has been such a terribly long time, and nobody compares to you.”
Joseph’s voice caught in his throat when he attempted to answer her. “Is that so? You flatter me.” His sure footsteps started closer toward the desk but hesitated a moment halfway before starting again. Vanessa started to contort in herself as much as herdamned corsetwould allow her to in a vain attempt to see how close he was and which direction he was facing.
Why should he want to see the widow’s skirts lifting? What business did he have between her thighs? She bit down on her lower lip and stopped breathing so that she might see what was happening better. Only the Duke paused but for a moment in front of Lady Thompson before his legs were carrying himaroundthe desk.
Her eyes felt so wide they might slip from her head as he came to stop beside her. The leg of his trousers only a breath away from rustling against the curled-up fabric of her skirts. She attempted to shift— but a noise above her froze her in place.
“No more of these games, Joseph; return to me, invite me to your bed once more.”
“Ah, but this is hardly a bedchamber, Lady Thompson— and someone could come upon us at any moment. I am many things, but I do not make a habit of fornicating in other men’s offices.” Joseph’s hands lifted the tops of the thighs of his trousers to lift the fabric, and he sat heavily in the leather chair. He leaned back, his hand curled over the lower half of his face as his beautiful green eyes were locked on the woman on the desk. Papers and feather quills started to crash to the floor around the desk, one at a time, as Lady Thompson turned to crawl over the large desk to face him once more; Vanessa could hear the rustling as the harlot moved. She hadneverheard a conversation like this! She could not believe that Lady Thompson would speak in such a way!
“Let them see, then, Your Grace— we will have to put on a show they will not soon forget.” Isadora’s voice dropped lower, husky as Joseph started to smile. Just the hint of the expression peeking out from around his curled fingers. Was he actually considering this? Certainly not. That would be absolute insanity!
“Tell me, Lady Thompson, just what sort of a show should we put on for them? Here, across the desk?” Joseph straightened, leaning forward on the chair until his hands dangled loosely between his knees, and he peered up at the widow. “Perhaps I should like to keep you all for myself; I suppose we could come up with some rather enjoyable ways to keep you quiet amid your pleasure … as I recall you were so loud last time.”
For a moment, Vanessa’s imagination turned traitor— she imagined that it was her on top of the desk with Joseph looking up at her. She imagined that his lips would part just slightly before he captured hers against his own. He would place his hands on her waist and pull her to him until there was no space left between them as she wrapped her arms around his neck. She imagined that she was seated inside of a room like this, learning just what he meant.
A knot formed in her throat at the realization that this encounter meant nothing to him. It was only a few days ago that she was in a room alone with Joseph, now this woman, and soon he would attempt to do such a thing with Amanda. Poor Amanda’s heart could not take such a deep betrayal. Were women as interchangeable to him as hats? He could change them with the Seasons and dispose of the old fashions just the same. He was exactly what his reputation claimed as she had always known and feared. It just … hurt more than she was prepared for.
Hot, angry tears welled in her eyes— and she lashed her foot out and kicked him. The effect was instantaneous. Joseph swore loudly and jerked backward from the desk where he connected his green eyes with hers and instantly fumbled to recover.
“Your Grace? Whatever is the matter?” Skirts came flowing down like a curtain, blocking Vanessa from view as Lady Thompson looked around for some sort of villain or rodent or some other excuse for the Duke’s sudden actions.
“Uh…nothing is the matter, Lady Thompson; I had a sudden pain … I must attend to it at once.”
“Are you injured? Let me see! I can assist you! I have a great many skills.”
Her skirts smelled like magnolias and lemons which did not go well together. Vanessa had to actively fight the urge to kick her as well. She knew that it would only complicate the situation even further, but it would also no doubt be very pleasing to kick the widow for being so brazen inside of their Manor. She would never see the woman the same way ever again. Vanessa swore then and there that she would never speak to Lady Thompson ever again, no matter the setting.
“I am certain that you are very accomplished, Lady Thompson, but I must insist that you return to the party at once. I shall call on you when I can. You must go now, quickly before your absence is noticed,” Joseph urged.
Lady Thompson was pulled from the desk, and it sounded as if the Duke was nearly shoving her in front of him in his haste to force her from the room.
“I suppose you have a point … I would not want to start any more scandals—” She turned right before he succeeded in pushing her the rest of the way from the room. “Though, what do I care what they think!” She grinned brightly. “Let them talk! It would be worth it, should the scandal include us!” Isadora moved to circle around the Duke and invite herself back into the room, but he caught her.
“The answer is no, Lady Thompson; this was not meant to happen this evening. Please go.” She spun her around once more as she grumbled words of protest the entire way out of the room. He slammed the door shut and twisted the key in the lock, and then they were alone.
ChapterFourteen
“Get out from under that desk at once!” Joseph demanded.
A rustling noise came from under the desk, punctuated by angry sounds of a woman struggling with the way her skirts were all tangled up around her legs and waist. Of all of the things that he had been expecting to have happened when he had been stupid enough to come up into this office with Lady Thompson, that was not one of them.
