Seducing the Marquess (Lords and Ladies in Love) Page 20

  Eugenia stopped and tapped her lips. “You are correct. Pack enough for a few days, and have someone else finish and send everything on.”

  Too restless to sit calmly, Eugenia began to assist Sally. If her maid was surprised by all the activity, she said nothing. As she folded garments and placed them into a trunk, she thought on all she had done the past few weeks.

  She allowed the anger to wash over her once again. She would use the anger to sustain her and allow herself a good cry when she arrived at Devonshire. She was through with London. Unless Devon dragged her back kicking and screaming, she would never return to the bloody place. If she were in favor with the gods, the last time they’d made love she had conceived. Then, if the child were a boy, she would no longer need to suffer Devon’s visits to her bed, either.

  Her life would be full. She would start a sewing circle or whatever it was that women did in the country. Perhaps she would have Cook teach her how to prepare meals.

  A garden!

  She would grow a garden. Beautiful flowers and herbs. A great deal of herbs. She would make medicinal teas and distribute them to the tenants, wearing a straw bonnet and carrying a basket. Everyone would love her.

  Oh yes, life would be fulfilling and enjoyable. She would get a cat. Several of them. Enough to fill the house. She pushed down the hysterical giggle that threatened to erupt any minute. She could hardly wait for her new life to begin, because she was finished with this one.

  “Sally, I am ready to leave. Please cease.” Eugenia walked over to the dressing table and swept her arm across the top, knocking all the perfume bottles to the floor, several of them smashing against the fireplace bricks. She gained immense pleasure from the sound of all that glass breaking and the scent of various perfumes wafting in the air.

  She would never wear perfume again, either.

  …

  Devon grabbed Isabella’s hands, removed them from his neck, and pulled back. She eyed him with puzzlement.

  “I am sorry. But I’m afraid this won’t work.” He backed up, wondering just what the hell he was doing. He didn’t want this woman. The only woman he wanted was Eugenia. And, dammit to hell, he would have her.

  Cahill viewed him with raised eyebrows. “Not to your taste, Devon?”

  Devon shook his head. “No.” He turned to the woman again. “You are quite lovely, but I am afraid I am deeply and wholly in love with my wife, so no other woman will do.”

  Instead of the anger or hurt of rejection he thought to see in her eyes, she smiled. “She is a very fortunate woman, my lord. Go home to her.”

  As if the devil himself chased him, he raced down the stairs to his carriage. “Home,” he shouted as he slammed the door shut.

  I love her.

  It was plain and simple. Even the thought of her lover didn’t discourage him now. He would go home and tell her that whoever this man was who had taught her all these new things would be a dead man if he touched her again. She belonged to him. And he to her. If that went against everything he believed, well, it was time for a change.

  They would retire to Devonshire. He would make love to her day and night until she could no longer walk. Then he would carry her everywhere. His heart beating in rhythm with the clop of the horses’ hooves, he imagined sweeping her up from her bed and carrying her to his bed. Where they would make love. Then sleep the entire night together. Forever.

  The carriage barely came to a stop when he had the door open and was bounding up the stairs. He raced past a startled Bellows who summoned him back. “My lord.”

  Devon continued up the stairs. “I have no time right now.” He reached the door to her room and flung it open. And stopped dead.

  She was gone. Not just her, but all her things. Except for a pile of broken bottles lying on the floor next to her dressing table and in the fireplace. The stench of the various perfumes flooded the room.

  Eugenia was gone?

  His heart still pounding from the race home, he tried to come to grips with her absence and what it meant. He walked slowly around the space, his eye catching something lying in the fireplace. It appeared to be a journal or a book. He bent and picked it up, tossing it on the bed. The book opened and he stared at the page, his jaw dropping.

  With shaky hands he picked it up and flipped through the pages. Eugenia’s perfectly scripted handwriting appeared in the margins. His eyes widened when he saw his name, along with notes. All the breath left his body. He stumbled backward and sat on the bed.

  This was where she was getting her scandalous ideas. She had no lover! Good Lord, she’d been trying to seduce him! His grin was quickly replaced with a frown. Based on her departure, she must have overheard him and Cahill talking when he’d thought she was in the ladies’ retiring room.

  What an ass he was. And what a mess he’d created.

  “Bellows!” The book clutched in his hand, he bounded down the steps. “Where is her ladyship?”

  “That was what I tried to tell you when you rushed past me before. Lady Devon left a note for you and then insisted on departing tonight for Devonshire.”

  Devon raked his fingers through is hair. “And you let her go? In the middle of the night?”

  “My lord, I am the butler, not her jailer.” Bellows drew himself up. “However, Sally accompanied her, and I sent along three footmen, as well.”

  “Yes. Right. Thank you for that.” He headed to the library, unfolding the note as he went.

  My Lord,

  I have retired to Devonshire since I no longer find life in London acceptable. If you would be so kind, please arrange for the rest of my things to be sent on.

  E.

  Devon poured himself a brandy and considered his next step. Eugenia was hurt. If she did indeed overhear his conversation—and nothing else seemed to fit her fleeing to the country—he’d wounded her deeply. She’d been trying to seduce him, and he had behaved like a cad.

  “Bellows!”

  “My lord?”

  Devon jumped as Bellows appeared at his back seconds after he shouted. “Have Jake pack a bag for travel and then arrange to have the rest of her ladyship’s belongings, as well as mine, sent to Devonshire.”

  “You are leaving as well, my lord?”

  “Yes. Lady Devon and I are retiring to the country for the rest of the Season.” He grinned and moved past the wide-eyed butler. “Possibly for the rest of our lives.” Devon turned back. “Tell the housekeeper to close up the house and move everyone to Devonshire. I will send further instructions soon. Right now have the stable master prepare my horse Reggie for a trip. I intend to leave as soon as possible.”

  Eugenia could not have gone far. Thankfully, there was a bright moon, so her travel would not be too dangerous. Although, he would like to throttle her for putting herself in any danger at all. Most likely she would travel a short distance, anxious to be away from him, and then take a room for the rest of the night.

  In less than a half hour, Devon mounted Reggie and headed out of town, leaving Jake with instructions to follow him with all of their belongings in another carriage. The book was tucked snugly into his pocket, and he was unable to suppress the grin on his face.

  The sun was just making its presence known when he stopped at the third inn. Eugenia had made better time than he’d thought. But at this stop, he’d spotted his carriage in front of the inn. Most likely his lady was already preparing to leave.

  He turned Reggie over to the groom and approached the driver and footmen, who glanced nervously at one another. “We will be staying the day here. Be ready to leave for Devonshire first thing tomorrow morning.” When the men just stared at him, he added, “You may have the day off.”

  “Good morning, my lord.” The innkeeper hurried up to him. “Lady Devon is right now taking her breakfast in the private dining room, if you will be joining her.”

  “Thank you, Russell. I assume her ladyship is planning on departing this morning?”

  The innkeeper nodded.

&n
bsp; “Her plans have changed. We will be staying one more night. She no doubt occupied the room at the back?”

  “Yes, my lord. As you know, it is the best we have to offer.”

  “Please arrange for a hearty breakfast to be sent to that room in about an hour.” After settling that matter, he straightened his jacket, raked his fingers through his hair, and entered the dining room, prepared to do battle.

  The most important battle of his life.

  …

  Eugenia’s eyes felt gritty from a lack of sleep. She’d dozed a bit in the carriage and a tiny bit in the bed she’d been given when they’d stopped at the inn. She smiled her thanks at the young woman who brought her tea and breakfast of toast and jam. Even though she had no appetite, if she didn’t eat something she would never make it through the day.

  Right now all she wanted was to remove herself as far away from London as possible. She stirred her tea and picked up the cup to take a sip when her attention was caught by a man standing in the doorway. With the light behind him, it was hard to see, and her heart thumped, wondering if she were in danger.

  “Eugenia?”

  Her eyebrows rose and she placed the cup back in the saucer. “Devon?”

  He moved toward her, and now that he grew closer, she could see him clearly. He looked as though he hadn’t spent much time sleeping, either. His clothes were scruffy, and his face showed a need for a shave.

  “What…what are you doing here?” She hated how her voice shook. She didn’t want to appear flustered. She wanted to appear calm and composed.

  “Why did you leave?” He walked slowly toward her, a slight smile on his face.

  Eugenia licked her dry lips. “I am returning to Devonshire.”

  He pulled out a chair and sat. “So you said in your note.” He picked up a piece of the toast that sat in front of her and took a bite. “You seemed to be in quite a hurry.”

  “Yes. Well, I felt the need to leave London.”

  “Too smelly?” Another bite.

  She nodded.

  “Too crowded?” Still another bite.

  She nodded.

  “Too many parties?” He popped the last piece into his mouth.

  She nodded and licked her lips.

  Extending his hand, he stood and said, “Come with me.”

  “Where?”

  “To your room. There is much we need to discuss.”

  She drew herself up. “I no longer have a room, my lord.”

  “Eugenia,” he said in a voice one used to chastise a child with biscuit crumbs on his mouth, “I thought we decided no ‘my lord’. And yes, you do have a room. The same one you just vacated. Now stop dawdling, and come with me.”

  Her heart pounding, Eugenia took his hand and they left the dining room and started up the stairs. What was the meaning of his appearance here? If he were angry with her, it certainly didn’t show in his demeanor. If anything, he seemed gleeful.

  Thoroughly confused, he led her directly to the room she’d just left—how did he know?—and swung the door open, indicating with a sweep of his arm that she was to enter.

  Once the door closed, he took her in his arms and kissed her as though he wanted to consume her. His lips were warm and moist. He smelled of brandy, bergamot, and Devon. She immediately lost all sense of time and place. Her entire awareness centered on his mouth as he took possession, nudged with his tongue to enter her, sliding over the roof of her mouth until she gripped his arms, fearful of falling to the floor.

  His lips left hers, the absence causing her to moan slightly. He grinned as he kissed her eyes, her chin, and her neck, slowly moving their bodies backward until she felt the bed hit the back of her knees. With nowhere else to go, she sat, and he followed her down, sitting alongside her. With one quick movement he drew her onto his lap.

  Devon leaned back, his mirthful eyes never leaving hers. He reached into his pocket and, to her absolute horror, pulled out her book and held it up. She sucked in a breath.

  “Does this look familiar, love?” Despite the warmth in his eyes, she panicked at being discovered. Had he chased her down just to humiliate her about the book?

  Raising her chin, she stared him down. “I am an adult, my lord, and I may read anything I wish to read.” Her statement would have held more weight if her voice hadn’t shook and the flush rising to her face wasn’t quite so hot.

  Devon opened the book and began to flip through the pages. “Very interesting things in here.” He looked at her from under lowered eyebrows, his lips twitching. “Especially the pictures.”

  Oh, Lord. Her embarrassment was now complete. Pulling her tattered pride around her like a worn cloak, she said, “I doubt very much, my lord, that you rode all this distance to chastise me on this book.”

  “No, Eugenia.” He set the book next to him and took her two hands in his. “How long have you had this book?”

  When she lowered her head, he lifted her chin with his finger. “How long?”

  She shrugged. “A few weeks, a month, perhaps more.”

  Devon closed his eyes and pulled her close. Cupping her face gently, he lowered his head and took her mouth in a tender kiss. Drawing back, he said, “Tell me why you left in such a hurry.”

  When she attempted to pull away, his grip tightened. “No. Please, tell me why you left.”

  With a burst of anger, she wrenched herself from his hold and jumped up, pointing her finger at him. “I will not stay in London and watch you visit a mistress.” She backed up farther, her hands fisted at her sides. “So, there. Now you can tell me what an improper wife I am to mention such a thing.”

  When he grinned, she had the most unladylike urge to kick him in the shins. “’Tis not funny, my lord.”

  His grin disappeared. “No, my love. ’Tis not funny at all. I do not have a mistress, Eugenia. I have not visited the bed of another woman since the night before we married.”

  Her lip curled, and she drew back. “I do not wish to call you a liar, my lord,” she sputtered, “but my lord, you are a liar.”

  Chapter Twenty

  “Sometimes you just need to say ‘I love you.’”

  Secrets of the Bedchamber, p. 200

  Devon’s soft smile brought butterflies to Eugenia’s stomach. What game was this he was playing? And why in heaven’s name did her traitorous body respond thus when she was so very angry?

  “No, my love. I am no liar, but I can understand your disbelief.”

  He seemed sincere, but how foolish did he think she was? Based on last evening at the theater, it would be quite a leap for her to believe his words. She narrowed her eyes. “Not a difficult time, my lord. Impossible seems the better word.”

  He shrugged, making her think he was not taking all of this seriously. He studied her, seeming to need the interval to gather his thoughts. “Like most gentlemen of our class, I maintained a mistress. However, much to my surprise, I found that I was unable to continue that relationship once I made the commitment to you.”

  “But…”

  He sighed, and one side of his mouth quirked up. “Margaret and I played cards.”

  Eugenia shook her head and took another step back.

  “’Tis true. And when she died, I felt sad, of course, at the death of a young woman, but also more relief than anything else.”

  The man must think she was stupid. Had he truly felt relief, why in heaven’s name did he arrange to meet another light-skirt last night? A question she posed to him.

  “Ah. So you did hear Cahill?”

  The painful knot she’d experienced with Devon’s words as he’d accepted Cahill’s offer settled once again in her chest. “Yes.” Her voice was a choked whisper.

  “Ah, sweetheart. Come here.” He reached out, and she stubbornly refused to move. He stood and stepped forward. She stepped back. He stepped forward. She stepped back and hit the wall.

  Devon braced his hands on the wall, essentially blocking any escape. “The book.”

  She shook
her head to clear it. “What?” They were in the middle of a most important conversation, and now he wished to discuss the book? Before she could put voice to her thoughts, he leaned in and took her lips in a warm and persuasive caress. His hands never touched her, but she felt tingles in her breasts and between her legs, with the strong urge to push her body against his. She wrenched her mouth away before she lost all sense.

  “What has my book to do with it?”

  Devon rested his shoulder against the wall and played with one of her curls that had come loose. She watched, mesmerized, as he ran the silky threads through his fingers. “Because, my love, I thought you had taken a lover.”

  “A…what!” She drew in a deep breath. “You thought I had taken a lover?” She backed up, only to find herself wedged into a corner. “Has all your good sense left you, my lord?”

  He walked toward her, like a powerful sleek animal stalking its prey, his eyes bright with anticipation of the kill. The tingling in her breasts and between her legs intensified. Her heart pounded, and all of a sudden there did not seem to be enough air to be had.

  “Your gowns, Eugenia. Your touches, your glances, the very way you walked, talked, and most of all…” He stopped and cupped her cheeks with his large hands. “The way you responded to me in bed.”

  Good Lord, if her temperature rose any more she would self-combust. He leaned in close and whispered in her ear, his warm breath giving rise to gooseflesh on her neck. “I liked it, my love. I liked when you touched me.”

  “Oh.” It appeared intelligent conversation had fled.

  He nibbled on her earlobe. “I met Cahill as planned.” She stiffened. “But I could not do it, my love. I want only you.” He drew back and looked into her eyes. “Only you, Eugenia.”

  “Devon.” She breathed his name, which seemed to be all he needed to set loose the animal inside.

  He captured her mouth with such intensity her knees gave out. He grabbed her around the waist as she began to slide to the floor. His kiss was urgent and exploratory, seeking her complete surrender.

  Which she gladly gave.

  “Eugenia.” His whispered chant surrounded her, embraced her as much as his strong arms.