All I Want for Christmas Is a Duke (13 page)

Chapter Four

On the Fourth Day of Christmas

My True Love Gave to Me

Touches Oh So Sinful

No one had ever dared tell him he was an ass. Granted, she hadn’t done so in so many words. But she had pointed out his unkindness. Something that hadn’t been done since Nanny had him in the nursery. It was a strange thing. In truth, it had never occurred to him he was being unkind.

He was adrift, unable to make sense of this woman who had borne so much. As he studied her pale face, marveling at the shimmer of tears in her eyes she wouldn’t let break free, a deep, mad need formed within him. He hungered to strike down every person who had given life to those tears.

He couldn’t offer her vengeance. He couldn’t even offer her solace, but he could…

Alexander slid his hand to cup her nape, weaving his fingers into her silken hair and tilting her head back. Her lips parted, the eternal sign of desire, but her eyes remained open, as if she were as unwilling as he to truly let go.

It didn’t matter. None of it mattered except this moment, here in the oak grove, yards away from the castle that had defined him. Alexander pulled her toward him, molding her body to his, and bent down and took her mouth with his.

The clunk of her mug hitting the snow punctured the silence as he tasted her lips. Spiced wine assaulted his senses, and he needed more. He slid his tongue between her lips, savoring the lushness of her.

She held still, tense in his arms, but then she lifted her palms and clung to his shoulders. The press of her body and the passion with which she gripped him shoved aside any doubts he might have had. He tilted her head back farther and allowed himself to take what he had secretly desired for so many months.

As she yielded to his kiss, she opened her mouth, tangling her tongue with his. The touch drove out reason, and he slid his hand to the small of her back, curving his hips into her body, hating the layers of clothing between them.

He longed to rip the fabric from her, strip her naked, and expose her completely to his desires. A low growl of hunger escaped his throat as his hands traced her back, pulling her as close as he could until she gasped against his mouth.

“I want you,” he murmured against her open lips. “I want to be in you.”

A moan met his words.

He pressed his forehead to hers. Barely able to form words. Barely able to realize that he couldn’t take her here. “But not like this.”

Her breasts pressed against his chest as she breathed in and out in fast, shallow breaths. “No, not like this. And not tonight.”

Leaning back, Alexander brushed a lock of hair away from her brow. “Shall we go back?”

She nodded, but it was almost impossible for him to tear his gaze away from her swollen lips. Even in the black of the Yorkshire night, he could see the way her body had responded to his rough kiss, and it was nearly his undoing.

That soft breath of hers caressing his neck, urged him to push her back up against the oak tree, lift her skirts, and find the wet, sweet heat between her thighs that would prove how much she wanted him. Some primitive part of him wanted to drive her until she was wild with need for him. To make her so slick and ready for him in a way that no man had ever done.

But he pulled back, separating his body from hers. Each inch of him ached at the loss of her touch. At last they stood, almost a foot apart. Still, they lingered, anchored by each other.

What was happening to him? He knew exactly why he’d agreed to this seduction. To know her, to understand how she had wheedled her way into his family, and find the true nature of her person. But now that he knew the touch of her lips? Hearing her speak of the painfulness of her past? Something else entirely was sweeping him up this Christmas morning.

A touch of magic.

Drawing in a deep breath, he forced himself to step back, to break the moment as he strode toward the basket and extra blankets. “Shall we?”

A smile twitched at her lips. “You’re carrying them back?”

He glanced down to the basket full of items the butler had had filled to the brim. It had been utterly thoughtless of him to ask a young footman to march out into the cold in his livery, carrying these items. “Even I can learn.”

She walked towards hi, her skirts trailing behind her, her small body cloaked in the heavy wool, giving her a decidedly delicate air. “So you can,” she teased.

He offered her his free arm. “Perhaps it has to do with the teacher.”

Instead of the blush he’d hoped for, her face grew serious, the pale plains marred with a strange sort of intensity. “I would hope you could learn from anyone.”

And with that, she slid her hand over his forearm and followed him back to the castle, silence their companion. But with each step he took, he felt a more solid inkling that uncovering the truth about his little governess, who’d lived such a disadvantaged life, was not going to be anywhere as simple as he’d supposed.

…

Adriana rushed down the wide hall, patting at her hair. Morning had come far too quickly, and she’d barely slept a moment, her head dancing not with sugar plums and fairies but with images of her duke towering above her, taking her mouth in a seductively dominant kiss. One that had made her forget every fear that kept trying to dash her hopes.

Damnation, she’d never experienced anything like it. In fact, as she smoothed the front of her gown and stopped before the nursery door, she was shocked that her hands were shaking slightly.

How had her world become so entirely upturned?

She closed her eyes for a moment, gathering herself together to do the work she loved so well. Fortified, she grabbed the handle and pushed the door open.

A shriek of delight filled the room. “Miss Grey. Miss Grey, Happy Christmas,” Georgiana cried as she wildly waved good morning. All the while, her nanny fastened the hooks of her soft pink gown.

The bright smile pulling at Adriana’s lips couldn’t be stopped. The child’s joy filled the room and as always, Adriana was filled with awe at the little girl who found such happiness in life, despite the challenges she’d been given. “Happy Christmas, Miss Georgiana,” she replied, wishing as she oft did she might call the child something less formal.

But governesses couldn’t call their charges petal, pet, or my love. Oh no, that was saved for Nanny. Still, she felt love for the small girl who’d at first tried to run her out of the castle with tricks that had made her laugh rather than groan. A gently bred young governess would have likely taken one week of Georgiana and run. But Adriana had been raised in the streets of London, and it took far more than mud in her bed or pepper in her tea to send her off.

Now the two of them were as snug as two peas in a pod, having reached a strong understanding after Adriana had placed a rather large toad in Georgiana’s desk.

Adriana clapped her hands together. “Now, are you ready to go downstairs to open presents?”

Georgiana nodded an elfin chin, her black locks curled into perfect ringlets bouncing about her rosy-cheeked face. “I’ve been waiting hours and hours and hours.”

The little girl’s nanny, Beth, gave a beleaguered look, laughing despite the smudges under her eyes. At six years old, Georgiana had likely slept as little as Adriana had. Though the child’s excitement had sprung from the anticipation for Father Christmas, not a leap into moral madness.

Adriana extended her hand. “Shall we?”

With a labored step and a puff of ruffles, Georgiana struggled forward. Her clubbed foot gave her a pronounced limp that made walking laborious. She laced her small fingers into Adriana’s. “Do you think Father Christmas was pleased with me?” Her brow furrowed. “I tried very hard to be good this year.”

Adriana fought a bemused laugh. A few months ago, His Grace had returned from a long trip to Coburg with stories of Sinter Claus and that the English equivalent, Father Christmas, also watched children and decided if they should be brought presents. Georgiana had been transfixed by the marvelous and magical stories.

Fixing a most serious countenance to her features, Adriana leaned down and said, “Well, you’ve done me proud, and if that isn’t enough for Father Christmas, I don’t know what is.” She tilted her cheek. “Kiss?”

Georgiana laughed then pressed a soft kiss to Adriana’s face. “Perhaps Father Christmas has brought you something nice as well. You’ve been very good. I don’t know how you do it.”

If only Georgiana knew just how bad she’d been or how many lies she’d told to maintain the facade she’d developed over the last year. She’d no right to expect anything from Father Christmas.

Not a girl who had been deceiving others for so long.

Chapter Five

On The Fifth Day of Christmas

My True Love Gave to Me

Sweet Breathless Moments

Adriana lingered several feet away from the bustling scene. In the great room, the tree towered over ten feet, decked with gold and crystal ornaments as well as simple wood cuts, nuts, and winter flowers.

Though a maid was assigned the task of watching the candles, they weren’t lit so early in the morning and rare winter sunlight spilled through the tall windows on the east side of the room, bathing them all in a cheery glow.

Alexander’s guests buzzed about the tree and the table laden with evergreens, tea, and breakfast foods. Her own stomach rumbled. She’d slept far too late to risk the chance of eating her morning fare. Now, she glanced with jealousy at the guests, plates and cups in their hands, laughing merrily as they ate their fill of ham, sausages, toast, scones, and tea.

Georgiana sat by the tree, her blue eyes bright as she studied the presents still unopened. She’d already unwrapped three gifts from Father Christmas, the soft white wrapping and red velvet bows cocooning her. The sight warmed Adriana’s heart, pushing back the familiar sadness that Christmas usually brought.

“You have the strangest look upon your countenance.”

Adriana’s heart thrilled at the sound of the duke’s deep but slightly rough voice purring in her ear. She glanced back over her shoulder, her body alight with the sudden nearness of him. “I’m simply glad Georgiana is so happy.”

He circled around her, those dark eyes of his focused on her, searching. “I don’t believe that is all, but I shan’t push.”

“There really is nothing to push about.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Do I look a fool?” He paused. “Don’t answer that. You’ve certainly treated me as a fool this year.”

Adriana winced. “Your Grace…”

He raised one of his strong, broad hands. “Let us not war on such a glorious morning. Christmas is my favorite season, after all, and I do not wish for discord.”

Her initial temptation to argue died quickly as she noticed the boyish glee lighting his face. Somehow, his hair had come free of its usually groomed pomade, and his eyes positively gleamed with excitement.

What could it be like to grow up loving this season? She’d never known any sort of happiness during Christmas until she’d come to Highburn, and then she’d approached the holiday with a wariness of one who couldn’t quite believe the celebrations were real. In fact, she often felt as though she were waiting for the general merriment to descend into violent chaos as her childhood Christmases had when her parents had imbibed in too much gin.

“Would you care to open your present?”

She blinked. She’d begun last year, just before Christmas, and had received a gift from him, but then it was given to her when he distributed the staff presents. “I—”

“Of course you do,” he teased. “What lady doesn’t long for a present?”

“It is generally safer not to expect such things,” she found herself saying.

He sobered. “You do not have a great experience of them, then?”

She allowed her silence to be her answer, having given the duke far too much knowledge of herself already.

“We must change that,” he said gently, then lightly took her by the arm and led her to the tree.

She could hardly breathe, but the scent of evergreen filled the air with its tangy, wintery scent. She focused on it and not the light brush of his fingertips over her sleeve. My God, if she allowed herself, she’d be transported to the emotions of the night before.

“Are you flushed?” he asked, concern altering his tone.

She let her gaze wander up to meet his, and she couldn’t keep her thoughts at bay. As if he could read every sinful image, he stilled, his eyes darkening with heat.

The room dimmed, the voices grew quiet, and even the bright colors of the ladies’ frocks seemed to fade to nothing as they gazed into each other’s eyes.

Something tugged at her hand, and she blinked. Georgiana jerked on her hand again. “Miss Grey? You look funny.”

Mortified to be caught staring at the duke in such a fashion, Adriana cleared her throat and crouched beside Georgiana. “Now, you tell me which present is your favorite.”

“Oh no, Miss Grey,” the duke intoned as he knelt beside them, a shocking display of powerful, muscular limbs folding as he attempted to meet them at eye level. “You shall not be let off so easily.”

She peered at him, lost. “I beg your pardon?”

“Your present.”

She felt herself blush, her cheeks hot under his close attention. She had indeed hoped he would forget and let her get on with looking after Georgiana. For all she had instigated this seduction, she found that in the light of day, she had no idea how to be herself; she’d been Miss Grey for so long. Besides, in front of his guests, she still appeared the demure governess.

The duke pulled his daughter over to him and hugged her small body to his broad chest. “Don’t you believe it is Miss Grey’s turn?”

Georgiana nodded emphatically. “She has been very good this year, so she deserves a very nice present.”

Adriana laughed. “Why thank you, my dear Georgiana. I am so glad you approve.”

The little girl beamed.

Alexander reached beneath the branches of the tree and slipped out a thick parcel wrapped in white cloth and decked with a green velvet ribbon. He held onto it for a moment as if considering, then he passed it to her. “Happy Christmas.”

Adriana took the present, and her eyes flared at the weight. She allowed the package to rest in her lap, staring at it, wondering how this was possible. Alexander knew she was a fraud. A liar. And yet, here she was with a present. There was absolutely no need for that. And there was nothing particularly seductive about sitting in front of so many of his guests. With his daughter standing before him, this felt like an intimate family moment and her heart squeezed with longing. If only Georgiana were her daughter. If only Alexander were her husband. They’d be a proper family, and every Christmas morning for the rest of her life would feel like this one.

But she wouldn’t allow herself to contemplate what might have been. She’d long ago abandoned the fantasy that her grandfather, the earl, would swoop in and rescue her, giving her the life all little girls dream of.

“Open it,” cried Georgiana impatiently.

Steadying her hands, Adriana pulled at the velvet ribbon then slid the tissue away. As she grasped the stack of expensive parchment, her mouth dried with awe. Hundreds of pages of paper, expensive, thick vellum, weighed her hands down and on top, tied carefully to the bundle, were two quills, their nibs perfect and durable. “How?”

“They were my mother’s.” He stared quite seriously, then added, “Not the paper, the quills. And I thought you would use them as they deserve.”

Her breath hitched in her throat. She traced her fingers over the delicately carved teak quills. His mother’s? That hardly seemed an appropriate gift for a woman like herself.

“Paper?” questioned Georgiana. “Does that mean you were naughty or nice? I would have thought you’d get a doll at least.”

Adriana leaned forward and kissed Georgiana’s cheek. “You are sweet, but this paper is as good as any doll to me.”

Georgiana’s nose wrinkled. “Truly?”

“You see,” Alexander said, circling his arms about his daughter’s waist, “Miss Fl—” He pressed his lips together, a look of frustration crossing his features. “Miss Grey is a storyteller.”

“I know that,” Georgiana said factually, looking up at her father with adoring eyes. “She tells me stories every night.”

“Does she?” Alexander asked, his voice full of appropriate awe.

Georgiana nibbled her lower lip, then stared from Adriana to her father. “You should let Miss Grey tell you stories. She’s very good at it.”

Adriana winced.

The duke laughed, a deep, booming sound that drew the attention of several of his guests, but he ignored them. “Miss Grey has told me many marvelous and fantastical tales.”

A rueful grin tugged at her lips, and Adriana looked down at her present. Despite the strangeness of it all, she could hardly contain the happiness rattling around inside of her as her fingers curled around her bundle. He must have put the present under the tree after they’d come in from the oak grove. She had trouble believing he’d given her such a gift when he’d been contemplating giving her the sack. And yet, the present was incredibly intimate, one very personal to her.

What had happened last night that encouraged him to do something so special? In all her life, she’d never received such a present. Her parents had always forgotten or been too poor to buy her gifts, and once she’d become an adult, there had been no one who might bestow such a thing on her. That this man, a man she’d unscrupulously lied to in order to secure her position, was now so kind, filled her with immense gratitude and awe.

Was this what Christmas was supposed to feel like?

Tears stung her eyes. Horrified, she blinked several times. She couldn’t let him see how something like this could affect her.

“Miss Grey, are you crying?” Georgiana asked.

Adriana laughed to hide her embarrassment and lifted her hand to delicately dab against her eyes. “’Tis just the tree. It makes my eyes water.”

Alexander stared down at her silently.

She smiled at him, a genuine smile that she couldn’t hold back. “Thank you, Your Grace.”

“It wasn’t His Grace,” Georgiana said. “It was Father Christmas.”

And in that brief moment, she recalled that Georgiana didn’t know this man was her father. And in the same way, she would never be able to reveal the way her heart had begun to beat for him. As kind as he seemed in this moment, she could not fool herself into believing this was a romance or a love affair. His Grace had nearly evicted her the night before, and she could never be anything more than a trumped-up guttersnipe in his eyes.

At best, a woman for his pleasure. At worst, a woman of scandal.

And yet, the present in her hands seemed to speak otherwise.

“Beresford,” someone called.

Alexander didn’t look away and a line had formed between his brows, as though he sensed her sudden distress and wished to ease it.

“Your Grace,” the same woman called. “Whatever are you doing?”

Suddenly, three ladies and two gentlemen surrounded them. The guests sashayed over, boxing them in with no escape, the tree behind them.

Adriana fought a grimace as skirts of yellow, pink, and sea green swung about her. A pair of well-polished boots stepped perilously close to her own skirts.

“Whatever is so fascinating?” one of the ladies trilled.

“Surely not your governess,” another said.

“Well, she is quite a pretty piece for such a drab position,” one of the gentlemen drawled.

“Haverston,” tutted the first woman. “Don’t be shocking.”

“Just pointing out the obvious reason for His Grace’s lingering,” retorted Haverston.

Alexander tensed, his broad shoulders suddenly hard as the granite that studded the moors. He gently put Georgiana away from him and stood to his full height, which left him almost a head taller than his male guests.

At six feet and a few inches, he was the most intimidating man in the room. Perhaps in the county. “Did you have something to say, Haverston?”

“Of course not, Berresford.” The older man’s face bore the lines and wear of a man who liked his brandy backed up. “But don’t you think we should add to the revels?”

The ladies fluttered their fans, glancing with wide eyes between the two men.

Alexander raised a dark brow in answer.

Haverston leaned toward the lady wearing the yellow silk gown and murmured, “Don’t you think we should have some extra entertainment?”

The lady batted her mousy lashes. “Of course. One can always use more entertainment.”

“What did you have in mind?” asked Alexander.

Haverston glanced down at Adriana, his brown eyes alight with a vicious sort of mirth.

Adriana’s stomach tightened. She knew eyes like this man’s. Haverston was the sort who viewed anyone beneath his station as a thing. A thing to be used or made fun of for his pleasure. It was tempting to stand up and run from the room, but she was trapped with Georgiana lacing her little fingers into hers.

The little girl clearly sensed something wasn’t right and pressed toward Adriana.

Haverston’s lips pursed in a self-satisfied smile. “Why don’t we make your little governess the Queen of Christmas?”

The ladies gasped, first in shock, and then they began to titter with laughter.

The color drained out of Adriana’s face.

Alexander narrowed his gaze and began to speak but then stopped. A slow smile pulled at his lips as he gazed down at her. “That sounds like a splendid idea. Queen Anna until Twelfth Night.”

With his proclamation, Haverston clapped his hands together and the ladies giggled with delight.

And she, Adriana, couldn’t wait to get him on his own. So that she could murder him. Christmas or no.