Tempting the Ruined Duke: A Steamy Historical Regency Romance Novel Page 13

  The Duke grinned, tossing her a glance before he said dramatically, “Treasure.”

  “Oh! And you were not interested in that.”

  “My interests lay mostly in exploration, which was in line with some of my crew. But by exploration, I simply meant to learn. They explored in order to discover items for sale.”

  “Items like?”

  His Grace shrugged. “Gold, tobacco, silk, precious stones…”

  “Did you ever find those?”

  “Sometimes, yes. But I am no trader. I did not want to be weighed down by goods when coming back to England was my last priority.”

  “So what did you do?”

  “Well, luckily, trade can be done between short ports and I allowed my seamen to buy and sell whatever they could, in order to sell at the next port.”

  “That doesn’t sound so bad.”

  “It’s not. However…”

  Louisa laughed. “However what?”

  “Most sailors are not tradesmen. They were shortchanged many times or failed to find buyers. It still bred discontent.”

  Munboro’s face darkened.

  “Then what happened?” Louisa prompted.

  “My First Mate met some pirates.”

  Louisa’s back stiffened as she gasped, completely immersed in the story. “Is that when…?”

  “Yes,” he nodded, “that was when…”

  “W-what did they do?”

  “They lured me to an island, something about a rare plant that was meant to cause hallucinations. My interest was piqued.”

  “Oh, oh.”

  The Duke laughed. “Oh, oh is right. They tied me to a stake. Threw hot tar at me…”

  Louisa gave a small scream, covering her mouth with her hands as she looked aghast at him. He shook his head. “At the time, I was sure I would not live to see another day.”

  “But you did,” Louisa said quite earnestly.

  He nodded. “I did. It was no accident though. I had long had my suspicions about the First Mate. When he told me of the plant, I agreed to go and see it because my curiosity could not be overcome. However, I asked the ship’s purser to watch out for a signal. If I did not give it, he was to know that I had encountered trouble and rescue me if he could, or save the ship if he could not.”

  “Save the ship? You mean leave you to die?” Louisa’s voice was very high-pitched as she asked.

  “Yes.”

  “No!”

  He laughed, reaching out slowly to cover her bunched hands with his. “I am all right now. It all worked out.”

  “The purser got to you in time.”

  “Perhaps. I had long lost consciousness by the time he came. The pain was too much, you see. I was relieved. I conjectured that I might die while unconscious and so miss out on a great deal of pain and aggravation.”

  “So they rescued you and…?”

  “When I awoke, I was back on my ship. Quite ill and weak, but alive. The pain was excruciating.”

  Louisa reached out and squeezed his left arm.

  He reached with his right hand and covered her hand with his. He squeezed, tight and then patted it twice before letting go. They both studiously looked away from each other.

  “H-how long did it take you to get well?”

  “Almost a year.”

  “A year?”

  He shrugged. “I expect it might have taken a shorter time if I had taken time away from the ship. But I did not want that. I wanted to sail. I wanted to be out in the open water, where I was free. I did not want to come home. So for a year, I was an invalid captain and my purser, essentially ran the ship.”

  “And no mutiny was had?”

  The Duke snorted. “I suspect my purser was a far better captain than I was for he kept the crew together, and focused. We sailed from one end of the world to the other and saw so many wondrous things. We also did quite profitable trade, and in the Far East, I came across rare plants that took away my pain when I smoked them in a pipe. Somehow, I was grateful for my injury because it humbled me.”

  Louisa simply stared at him in utter stupefaction. “Well. That is a remarkable story. I do not understand why you hide your scars now.” Her hands flew to her mouth once she said it, and her eyes were wide open with mortification. It was such a rude thing to say, she could not believe she had said it.

  “Louisa! Your Grace! How serendipitous to find you both here.” She jumped, turning to see her father and the Dowager Duchess coming up to them. Immediately she pushed away from the Duke, leaving a good foot of space between them before deciding to just get to her feet.

  “Father! I did not see you there.”

  “Clearly,” he said drily, continuing under his breath, “I do declare, I cannot leave you alone for five minutes.”

  Louisa felt her cheeks heat with embarrassment and scrambled to explain. “His Grace was just telling me some seafaring tales. I must say that he has some fantastic stories.”

  “I wager that’s true,” Americus said undoubtedly struggling not to roll his eyes. Louisa looked from His Grace to Americus to the Dowager Duchess.

  “Umm, so did the Dowager Duchess tell you about her offer?” she asked, blatantly changing the subject.

  “She did indeed, and I was leaning toward acceptance but–”

  Louisa put her hands up to stop him. “I shall, of course, endeavor to always remain in appropriate company while we stay here,” she said quickly, breathless. “And it would really help for me not to worry about other concerns so that I may finish faster.”

  She stared at her father wide-eyed as she waited for his verdict. He looked thoughtful for so long she feared he would refuse but then he glanced at the Dowager, who gave him a look and then he nodded. “Very well, we shall stay.”

  Louisa maintained her dignity and did not jump up and down with joy, but she could not help the wide grin that spread over her face.

  Jeremy had never told anyone about his injuries; how he had come by them. Not even his friend Daniel. The Earl knew that Jeremy had undergone certain horrors while away, and he tended to blame the sea itself for that. As a matter of fact, he had gone so far as to forswear ever setting sail for anywhere.

  He did not know why he felt compelled to share the story with Miss Notley.

  Her reactions however, were everything he could have ever wanted. She was all agog, empathetic of his pain and horrified at the behavior of his First Mate. She did not lay any blame at his feet for his injuries in spite of him opening that door himself.

  He had fantasized many times how people would react if he ever told his tale and mostly he visualized mocking looks and laughter. He imagined that they might jeer behind his back, call him a fool. That was how he had felt for a long time.

  He knew why.

  He knew that he carried with him always, his father’s words in his head; calling him names, telling him that he would never amount to anything…

  It had created in him a wound, but seeing how Louisa had reacted had given him some hope that perhaps there were people who would accept him as he was and not feel that he was less than satisfactory because of his choices.

  He did not know about her staying at the manor however. It was too much temptation. The way she leaned into him when he spoke to her, her eyes seemingly wanting to penetrate his skin…if she knew how his body reacted to that, she would run far away from him.

  He reached down and squeezed his iron-hard member, eyes closed. He massaged it a bit, his mind on Miss Notley’s eyes, how they bugged out of her head as she listened to his tale, her extreme focus. It had been heady to be the recipient of such intense scrutiny, with no hint of abhorrence at his twisted, mottled skin or his ambitions.

  Her chest had heaved in reaction, breasts pushing against her bodice as if they might want to pop out with excitement. He felt like the worst kind of voyeur for noticing but he could not help himself. She was indeed something special and it would behoove him to watch himself lest he attempt to take advantage of her sweet
nature and tempting body.

  He should veto his mother’s invitation and he would have if he could think of a credible enough reason that did not involve revealing his feelings for Miss Notley.

  The very worst part was that he suspected that she would not be completely averse to temptation either. When their eyes met, the heat was palpable between them, the sexual tension could be cut with a knife. It was simply a matter of the right place and time and he might find himself buried inside of her, stripping her of her virginity, her respectability, everything.

  “Oh, dear,” he sighed to himself as he turned to his plans for the fair. The best way to avoid temptation was to focus on other things. If he kept busy enough, he might even forget about Miss Louisa Notley.

  A voice in his head gave a mocking laugh. It sounded eerily like his father.

  She held up the gown in front of herself and looked to the collection of the ladies from surrounding villages, plus Miss Notley, for their opinions. There was a unanimous side-to-side shaking of their heads and the Dowager sighed as she added the last gown to the large pile behind her. They hadn't liked anything, not that she blamed them, but that left her with nothing to wear to the upcoming fair. She knew how important it was to her son and she just wanted to look and be her best.

  Wracking her brain for a solution to her dilemma proved unfruitful and just when she was about to give up and wear the very first thing she grabbed, she heard the sure footsteps of her butler approaching. Miles had a very deliberate tread and she always knew when he was near. The footsteps stopped outside her door and her lady’s maid opened it a crack, taking something from the butler. The Dowager smiled brightly as her abigail returned, the women and girls parting for her.

  "I think this is the one Your Grace!" the lady’s maid called out in a sing-song voice, a brilliant smile on her face as she skipped up to the Dowager. Her chestnut-colored hair was neatly plaited in the French style, something that the Dowager had shown her how to do two years ago. She had her cap on as well, but everyone knew that the Dowager and she had been together since they were young girls. They were more like sisters than lady and maid.

  "Let me see it then!" the Dowager left the pile of gowns, which Miss Notley immediately descended upon to start folding and put up, to take the new gown. Her abigail held a silver package out to her with a bright smile.

  "What's this?" The Dowager Duchess asked as she took it, taking note of the intricate packaging and painstakingly-tied bow. A gift perhaps, from her son?

  "It's a surprise for the Dowager." Her abigail stood there, looking innocent, her hands held behind her back. She beamed as she watched the Dowager pull the silk wrapping off, the Dowager's expression was one of awe and admiration when she saw the gown.

  "Do you like it? His Grace asked me to help pick it out," the lady’s maid exclaimed exuberantly.

  "Oh Fiona, it's lovely."

  It truly is. The Dowager carefully held up the beautiful layered gown for the girls and women of the village to see. The outer layer was a dark blue that lightened and became silver toward the bottom, with vibrant green vines that artfully twisted up the fabric. Pale golden flowers sprouted on the vines, much like the flowers that her late husband had given her on multiple occasions. The ladies were, of course, urging her to put it on, so they could be the first to see their Dowager Duchess in such a fine gown.

  "Now, now. Let's all give Her Grace some privacy," Miss Notley chided bemusedly of the other ladies. She motioned for all of them to leave, the abigail excluded, then followed them out.

  "I also have flowers to put into your hair," Her abigail stated once she was alone with the Dowager. She held up the previously-hidden flowers, identical to the ones on the gown, that made the Dowager's heart skip a beat. Somebody was going all out for this fair and it was not for two days yet.

  Chapter 16

  Festival

  Louisa watched proudly as the acrobats set up. She had painted behind them a back drop of a clear sky in a field of long grass. When they practiced flying through the air, it looked as if they had jumped to the sky. She smiled wide and proud as she watched them lurking at the back of the crowd filled with locals and nobles.

  A warmth at her side had her turning to see that His Grace had gently brushed against her shoulder, a smile on his own face.

  “You did an excellent job,” he murmured.

  “Thank you.”

  “I apologize that I ever doubted your abilities.” He gave her a green glance full of sincerity and admiration.

  She curtsied mockingly, grinning at him. “I accept your apology, Your Grace.”

  He snorted. “That curtsy was quite inadequate, Miss Notley. Did my mother not teach you the right of it?”

  “No, she was too busy in transports of joy over my painting of her gazebo. And please, call me Louisa. Miss Notley is so tedious is it not?”

  “Well, if you insist,” he aimed a smile her way, “I notice that my portrait has been flung to the back of your pile of to-do activities. Am I to read something into that?”

  “Why, of course not, Your Grace. Your satisfaction is always foremost in my mind.” She grinned up at him as she said it, before looking forward again. It would not do to show just how familiar she was with this duke.

  Many hours working together on the fair had forged a bond of friendship between them. It surprised Louisa as much as anyone, how much they had in common. And even with endless opportunity, they had still managed to retain the boundaries of propriety – mainly due to Americus Notley’s hard work as a chaperone.

  “There you are, my child,” he said from behind her and Louisa turned to him with a smile.

  “Father. Have you come to see the show?”

  “Uh, no. Although you have my compliments on your backdrop. There is somebody I would like you to meet if you would be so good as to come with me.”

  “Of course.” Louisa agreed at once and followed her father away from the crowd with one last nod for the Duke. He led her to a coffee stand where a gentleman stood dressed formally in a black coat and black trousers. He had on a hat and a white shirt and was staring solemnly at the children bobbing for apples.

  “Mr. Jones,” her father called as they neared him and he turned with a smile on his face.

  He reached up and tipped his hat at them. “Mr. Notley and your very beautiful daughter…” he bowed formally as if they were nobility.

  “Louisa,” her father reached out and drew her close. “I would like you to meet Mr. Severus Jones. He is a barrister two towns over.”

  Louisa smiled, nodding to him in greeting. She felt a bit mystified as to why her father wanted them to meet him. Was there some legal matter they were facing she did not know about?

  She waited for someone to explain further but nobody said anything.

  “I am most pleased to meet you Miss Notley. Your father did not exaggerate when he sang your praises. You truly are a lovely young lady.”

  Louisa’s eyebrow rose. What did he mean by that?

  Americus looked from one to the other expectantly. “Well,” he clapped Severus on the back. “Louisa, I trust that you will show Severus around. He is our visitor and has come to see you.” He turned to Severus, “Make sure she shows you the backdrops for the shows. She painted all of them.”

  “Oh?” Severus lifted an impressed eyebrow, “I should very much like to see that.”

  Several burly showmen were checking the crowds as they entered at the turnstiles but nodded to Louisa and Mr. Jones who were let through a side gate.

  “I see your stage reputation precedes you, Miss” chuckled Mr. Jones his hands clasped behind his back.

  “Oh, I do believe so” countered Louisa in her most theatrical voice as they walked through the crowd.

  “So what shall it be first then Miss Notley? The puppets, the flying acrobats or perhaps the play? Or shall we just stick to the stalls?”

  “I think it would be better if we stick to the stalls, Mr. Jones.” She was not k
een to possibly run into the Duke who she had left watching the acrobats.

  “Oh? Is there any in particular that you favor?” Mr. Jones leaned in solicitously, making Louisa slightly uncomfortable.

  “Not really. But I would like to sample as many as I can – assist in the enrichment of residents.” she said matter-of-factly.

  She leaned in confidingly. “Including our own stall where I have some paintings for sale.”