Page 30 of Taming a Beastly Duke
“I wrote a reply suggesting that sunrise viewing might be better suited for lovers of a more dramatic sort.”
All the women laughed. Adelaide glanced at Edith, who had a dreamy cast to her features. Adelaide guessed that her friend was thinking about Lord Thomas, considering he was all she talked about when they were alone. When Edith’s eyes met hers and she blushed, Adelaide knew she was correct.
“I beheld a rather diverting jest at a ball once,” the dowager duchess said, her expression glowing with pleasure as she reveled in the company of so many guests to entertain. “There was one rather serious gentleman whose name I have long forgotten. He was dancing with a mischievous friend who decided to add some sparkle to the evening.” She laughed, much like Lady Beatrice had as she told her story. “When the dance finished and he took her to the refreshment tables, she sneaked a handful of flower petals into his coat pocket. Later that evening, he asked another lady to dance a waltz with him. During the middle of the dance, the petals flew from his pocket and fell around the floor amidst all the dancers. Of course, no one dared to laugh aloud during the situation, but afterward, we laughed until our sides ached.”
The women once more laughed heartily, each of them envisioning such a spectacle. Adelaide, however, could not stop glancing at the door which separated the drawing room from the billiards room. She wondered what transpired in there. Most of all, she wondered if the Duke was all right.
***
In the billiard room, Edwin circled the table on which the men played their game with calculated grace. Thomas had volunteered to play against him first, as he could see that Marcus was in no condition to try. As such, Thomas chose to lead the conversation, trying to avoid subjects that might upset his friend.
“The Royal Academy has unveiled some extraordinary new paintings,” he said cheerfully. “Have either of you seen The Battle of the Nile by Turner?”
Marcus shook his head silently, though his expression was one of fatigued gratitude.
Edwin smirked, taking a long moment to take his shot before answering Thomas’s question.
“I believe the only thing I have seen of interest lately is Marcus’s obvious attraction to Miss Barrett,” he said. He sounded casual and nonchalant, but Thomas had learned to be more observant of Edwin’s behaviors. His posture was tensely straight, and he looked at Marcus as if challenging him.
The sharp strike of the balls Thomas’s cue set in motion was a counterpoint to the growing tension in the room.
“I am sure that none of us wish to speak of such things right now,” Thomas said with calm precision. “I, for one, would rather enjoy a few nice, friendly rounds of billiards.”
Edwin met the crack of Thomas’s cue with one of his own, the volume of which echoed in Thomas’s ears long after the shot that caused it. He looked up at Thomas with an innocence that Thomas was sure was feigned.
“I assure you I mean no disrespect or malice, Thomas,” he said. “And I would never be anything but friendly.”
Marcus shifted uncomfortably in his seat, holding the cue he would use when, or if, he decided to try to play the winner of the current round. He glared at Edwin, choosing to gingerly sip his glass of wine, rather than to respond. Thomas could see his agitation, however, and he chose to try to maintain the tentative peace between the men.
“Of course,” Thomas said, offering a smile. He was trying to think of another topic to discuss when Edwin spoke again.
“I simply meant to say that I am glad Marcus has found happiness again since Char-…”
The snap of splintering wood cut through the room and through the rest of Edwin’s words. Marcus rose, panting heavily and holding his broken cue stick in his hands. His eyes were wide and filled with rage, his face was bright red, and his mouth was set in a vicious snarl. Thomas stepped forward with his hands up as if in surrender, putting himself between Marcus and Edwin, but not before glowering at Edwin.
Edwin backed away slowly with dismay that, having never reached his eyes, belonged more on a theater stage than in that room at that moment. Thomas was certain that Edwin intended the remark to anger Marcus, and he was regretful that Edwin succeeded. Marcus looked ready to tear his cousin apart like the beast society dubbed him to be. Thomas could hardly blame him. However, he also could not allow his friend to do such a thing.
“I see I have worn out my welcome,” Edwin said, still using his mask of disingenuous concern and regret. “I apologise, Marcus. I truly meant no harm. I hope you can forgive me.”
Marcus snarled, the wood of the broken halves of the cue stick cracking beneath his grip once more. Thomas looked at him once again, seeing that anguish lay beneath Marcus’s fury. Edwin left without another word, and Thomas slowly approached his shaking friend.
“Steady, my friend,” he said calmly. He would make no effort to defend Edwin, but nor would he twist the blade in the wound by mentioning what Edwin said. “Come. Let us get you to your chambers.”
***
When the evening ended, Adelaide paced in her bedchamber, her thoughts too frantic for her to sleep. The kisses she shared with the Duke in the gazebo, as always, filled her with a longing she was still trying to understand. However, he had fled from her, just as he always did. To make matters worse, he had given her a warning that was more mysterious than the letter she received.
She glanced at where it was lying accusingly, wringing her hands together in front of her. She knew from experience of the duke’s capacity for gentleness and tender affection. Her aunt also attested to the kindness of his heart and his innocence regarding Charlotte’s death. Yet the warning letter contrasted what she and her aunt knew.
She lifted her fingers to her lips, thinking once more of the gentle way he had kissed her. His mouth was always soft and tender when his kisses began. Yet passion also always overtook him, making them more intense and desperate. She had long since stopped worrying about how inappropriate her encounters with the duke were. Each time they kissed, Adelaide could feel more than a carnal yearning between them, and she craved that just as much as she craved the desire.
Once Thomas left him, Marcus stood at the window of his chambers, watching the approaching storm. His hands still trembled with rage and weakness, and it took immense control to not strike the window as he had longed to strike his cousin. Yet thoughts of Miss Barrett began to slowly calm him. Her softness constantly haunted him, though he could not decide whether it was torture or bliss. The way she yielded to his kisses and trusted him despite his beast-like nature meant she was either naive or that she saw something in him that he could not.
When he was ready to rest, he took to his bed, settling in and drifting into sleep rather quickly, and his dreams began to betray him at once…
“Marcus,” Miss Barrett whispers in his ear as he pulls her firmly against him with a firm grip around her waist. “Take me. Please? I crave nothing more.”
Marcus moans at her request. He has been longing for this moment since he first met her. He kisses her neck, her lavender scent causing every part of his body to long to connect with every part of hers. Her soft sighs as he leaves herneck and moves down to her bosom, which was half exposed with her abandoned dress and loosened corset, drive him wild with a need he has never known. Her warm curves press against him, and through her bloomers, his thigh can feel just how ready she is for him to take her.
