Bewitching the Duke (7 page)
Read Bewitching the Duke Online
Authors: Christie Kelley
He sipped the last of his brandy and placed the snifter on the concrete edge of the pond. For a long moment, he stared up at the stars. He wondered if there were any other planets out there like this. Was there another man a million miles away staring up at the stars wondering the same thing? Colin shook his head. Perhaps that third brandy was one too many tonight.
He glanced back at the house as a candle flickered from a third-floor bedroom. Who would be there at this hour? He had never asked his servants to clean round the clock in preparation for the wedding. As he watched, a figure dressed in white passed in front of the window. The woman didn’t stop long enough for him to make out who it might be but he knew whoever it was, she was not one of the elderly servants he had in service.
As he stared up at the window, the figure passed by the window again. She moved swiftly, unlike most of the servants in the house, so he discounted the idea that one of them might be upstairs. He knew exactly who that woman was . . . Mary. Or rather, the ghost of Mary. There was no other logical explanation, not that believing in spirits held much logic. He stared up at the window, unable to look away. The specter never returned to the window and within a few moments, the room went dark.
The house was more than just a vessel for bad memories. It contained her spirit. She’d never left. No wonder he always felt so uncomfortable in the house.
Having this wedding here was a dreadful idea. Perhaps he could write to Kate and tell her so. Not that he could inform her that the house was haunted. She would think he needed to spend some time at Bedlam.
And perhaps he had.
But there was no other explanation for seeing a woman in the room upstairs. Either she was a ghost or he really had gone mad. Both thoughts left him cold.
He had to find out what was going on up there. He raced up the two flights of stairs and then stopped in the hall. Thinking back, he couldn’t remember exactly in which, of the many windows, he had seen the apparition. He stood still and listened. Not a sound could be heard from any of the rooms. No chains rattling, no footsteps, or moaning. Absolute silence filled the area. As if to prove he wasn’t mad, he opened the doors to two bedchambers and found nothing but dark rooms with white coverings.
He really was going insane.
Selina spent the first few days in her bedroom prison. Several times during the day, Mrs. Roberts would join her and they would chat. But for the most part, her day was dreadfully dull. The tenants were all quite well and didn’t need her services. The duke seemed to spend his days in his study. According to Mrs. Roberts, he never left the room and looked quite peaked. Selina thought about checking on him but knew he would not appreciate her interference.
After eating a lonely dinner tonight, she sat at the table next to the window and longingly stared outside. Dark clouds filled the horizon warning of an impending storm. A knock on her door broke the silence.
“Miss, it’s Randall,” he whispered from the hall. “Please let me in.”
Selina rushed to the door and let him in. “What’s the matter? Did the duke see you bring up the tray?”
“No,” he said with a laugh. “It’s Mrs. Wells, miss. It’s her time.”
“Of course,” she replied. “I’ll get my things.”
Quickly she packed her satchel and herbs. She prayed this would go smoothly. She had been able to sneak out for a short time yesterday morning to call on Susan. Selina had still felt no movements from the baby. Susan was optimistic and said she was certain she’d felt a few slight kicks.
“I’ll escort you out of the house,” Randall said with a smile. “But I can’t accompany you.”
“There’s no need, Randall. I don’t usually have someone with me.”
“All right, miss.” Randall opened the door, and peered right and then left. “It’s clear.”
Feeling like a spy in the war, she tiptoed down the corridor, trailing Randall. Once outside, she raced toward Susan’s small home. As it was a first birth, Selina would most likely spend the night there. Rain sprinkled down on her but she ignored the cool sensation.
Several candles blazed in the small cottage. Selina knocked on the door and Susan’s mother opened it. “Oh, thank God, you’re here, Selina. I fear this won’t go well,” Mrs. Jones whispered. “It’s only been three hours but she’s in terrible pains.”
“Let me check on her.”
Mrs. Jones led her past Mr. Wells who looked as if he might faint. “Outside, Mr. Wells. Miss White is here now,” Mrs. Jones ordered.
Once inside the bedroom, Selina pressed her lips together. Susan appeared pale and sweaty. “Susan, how are the pains?”
“Awful,” she gasped. “You said they would start slow but they didn’t. I want to push already.”
Selina thrust away her emotions and set to work.
Colin walked the length of his library as he sipped his brandy. No matter what he’d tried today, he couldn’t get the image of that specter out of his mind. He looked down at his snifter of brandy. Perhaps he was drinking more than normal. Although, he didn’t think that was the cause of his delusions. He had seen someone or something upstairs. For the past few nights, he had gone to the pond and stared up at the house. He had seen nothing to make him believe there was anything unnatural upstairs.
A knock sounded on the door to the library. “Come in.”
A pallid Mr. Roberts entered the room. “Excuse me, Your Grace.”
“What’s the matter, Roberts? You look white as a ghost.” Did he really just say ghost? He had ghouls on the mind tonight.
Roberts looked away. “It’s Mrs. Wells, sir.”
Mr. Wells had been the blacksmith on the estate for ten years but Colin didn’t remember hearing about him marrying. “What is wrong?”
“She delivered a stillborn girl tonight, Your Grace.”
He closed his eyes against the instant pain he felt. This was his fault again. He forced Miss White to leave. She might have been able to help Mrs. Wells. “I will speak with them in the morning. Thank you for letting me know.”
“Good night, Your Grace.”
“Good night, Roberts.”
Damn her!
No, damn him.
This was his fault for forcing her to leave. His servants and tenants would despise him for evicting her. They would never forgive him. Just another thing to blame on him. The tenants and servants loved her. And with good reason; she took care of them far better than he had the past eight years.
Selina. With her curly, blond hair and emerald eyes.
He had to stop thinking about her.
If it wasn’t guilt he felt, then he thought about her physical attributes. Her full, pink lips that just begged to be kissed. Or her breasts that would just fit in his hands. There was something dreadfully wrong with him. He didn’t want her on his land.
But he wanted her in his bed.
He walked the length of the room again. Why wasn’t this brandy making him tired? Or easing his frustrations?
If not for the rain, he would have taken a walk. He walked to the terrace door and opened it. Rain continued to fall but not as hard as earlier. A figure with blond hair caught his eye. She paced the length of the reflecting pond. He blinked to make sure he wasn’t dreaming or worse, imagining a spirit again.
It had to be her. But what was she doing here? She should be ensconced in Mrs. Featherstone’s warm home tonight, not out in the cold rain.
He placed his glass on the table and headed out into the night. As he approached her, she looked up, shook her head, and then held up her hand as if to stop him.
“Please just let me have my one place to calm myself,” she all but shouted at him.
Taken aback by her frantic tone, he slowed his pace. “What is wrong, Miss White?”
“Just leave me alone,” she sobbed and then wiped at her face. “I should have prepared her for the possibility,” she mumbled. “I should have told her this might happen.”
Colin took a few steps closer, drawn to the pain he saw in her eyes. “What happened, Selina?”
Her lower lip trembled as she stared at the water. “She was a beautiful baby. Blond hair and blue eyes. Lifeless blue eyes,” she cried.
Mrs. Wells’s baby. “Were you here for the delivery?”
“Of course I was here.” Her sadness turned to anger, directed at him. “Did you think if you forced me to leave that I would give up my duties here? Did you think I wouldn’t run here and help the people I love?”
“I honestly never thought about it,” he whispered. The wind blew tendrils of blond hair over her face. Without a thought, he brushed them away.
“You can’t stop me from doing my duty to this land and the people who live here. I won’t stop. You’ll have to send me to prison because nothing else will stop me,” she shouted her frustrations at him.
But her words never reached his ears. All he saw was the pain in her eyes and he wanted to comfort her. Ease her troubles. Make her understand all his reasons for wanting her to leave.
He stepped closer and pulled her into his arms. Expecting she would push away, he wrapped his arms around her tightly. Her head landed on his chest and after a quick pound to his chest, she wept.
“Why?” she mumbled. “Why does God have to be so cruel sometimes?”
“I don’t know,” he said against her hair.
“It’s not fair. She’d had such an easy time of it. No morning sickness, no problems at all. Why didn’t the baby survive?”
“Shh,” he whispered, unable to think of a word to say that would comfort her. He closed his eyes only to relive his own anguish at the loss of his wife and child.
“I didn’t feel movement the last few times I saw her. I should have prepared her for the outcome.”
He had no idea what to say to her so he continued to hold her close.
“Why couldn’t I have saved her?” She looked up at him with tears in her eyes.
Unable to move for a long moment, he just stared at her. She needed his comfort, his warmth, and God knew he needed the same from her. Slowly, he brought his lips to hers.
A gasp of shock was all he heard from her. He moved over her lips as desire crept over him. Waiting for her to push him away, he tentatively slid his tongue over her full lips. Her hands moved to his chest but instead of forcing him away, she wrapped her arms around his neck.
Wanting nothing more than to take her pain away, he tugged her body against his. They were both soaked from the rain but he didn’t mind. Their heat warmed them. Passion flared as he skimmed his tongue over the crease of her lips again. Only this time, she opened for him.
The sensation of her velvety tongue on his almost sent him over the edge. He wanted to lay her down on the wet grass and make love to her for hours. As she responded to his kiss, he heard a low moan from her throat.
God, this wasn’t right. He couldn’t want her like this. He couldn’t make love to her all night. But his body wouldn’t listen to reason. He trailed his hands down her back and cupped her buttocks.
She moaned again as he pressed her hips to his growing erection. He wanted to slip into her warm depths and watch her face as she reached her climax. He wanted to release his pent-up frustrations and feel that moment of pure pleasure.
He wanted—
She thrust him away. “Oh dear Lord, what were you doing?”
He blinked and shook his head. “What was
I
doing? I believe you were doing it too.”
I
doing? I believe you were doing it too.”
“That may be, but I am not engaged!”
Selina raced to the woods to get away from the duke. Hiding behind a tree, she watched as he searched for her. She prayed the darkness would conceal her position. She didn’t want to hear his reasons for kissing her. Or face the fact that her body betrayed her.
“Selina, come out of hiding. I need to take you home,” he said, impatience lining his voice. “It’s raining and I believe we would both feel better if we talked about what happened in dry clothing by a warm fire.”
A warm fire with him near would lead to far more than a simple chat. With rain still falling, she could barely make out his form even though he was only a few feet away. She remained completely still to keep her hiding place secret.
“Dammit, Selina!” he shouted. “Where the bloody hell are you?”
The angry tone of his voice was just one more reason to keep quiet. At least now it sounded as if he was going deeper into the copse of trees. With him farther away, he might not find her tonight. If he did, he would surely tell her that his kiss meant nothing. He’d only been trying to make her feel better.
He was nothing more than a rake. All the rumors she’d heard about him over the years were true. She felt a pang of pity for his impending bride.
She stilled her thoughts and listened for him again. A twig snapped a distance away and then she heard a muttered curse. Knowing this might be her only chance, she broke away from the trees and ran toward the house.
Randall opened the door as she approached the house. “Is everything all right, Miss White?” he asked hesitantly.
“Yes,” she replied with a quick glance back toward the pond. “I’m just wet from the rain.”
“I shall call for a bath,” he said and then walked down the hall to fetch the footmen.
“Thank you, Randall.” She hastily made her way up the back staircase to the third floor before the duke arrived back home. She closed her door and leaned against the hard wood as all the emotions of the night surfaced. Covering her face with her hands, she mumbled, “How could I have let him kiss me?”
She’d been so upset about Susan’s baby and then seeing him had only made her angry. And yet, those few moments in his arms gave her comfort and warmth and for some reason she felt certain he’d understood her pain. If it had ended there, she might not have thought any more about it. But she’d felt his reaction to their kiss when he pulled her hips tightly against his. His arousal had been long and hard, and she’d wanted to rub against him like a wanton.
She had wanted him tonight.
She couldn’t deny that she found him attractive in a dark brooding manner. But tonight was different. If she hadn’t come to her senses, she might have let him take her up to his room and make love all night long. That idea was mad. She would never become involved with a married man. While the duke had yet to say his vows, a betrothal meant a contract to marry.
Besides, how could she think of such a thing when she knew he hated her?
Slowly she undressed, but as she did, one thought wouldn’t leave her mind. If he hated her as he appeared to, why did he kiss her?
It made no sense.
As she reached for her night rail, she wondered about that.
He forced her to leave the estate because of her mother, but could there have been another reason? Could he desire her and think it best to remove her from his presence so he wouldn’t be tempted? She laughed aloud at her fanciful imagination.
After a few minutes more of pondering, she finally decided their kiss had been nothing but a quick lapse in judgment. Tomorrow, he would be kicking himself for kissing the wise woman . . . if he wasn’t already. She’d tasted the brandy on his velvety tongue. Too much drink was likely the explanation for his behavior.
Although, she could hardly blame brandy on her reaction to his heated kiss.
But what woman wouldn’t respond to the kisses of a handsome man? Besides, while he might be a rake, he was still a gentleman. He would most likely even apologize if she saw him tomorrow. And she would be gracious and accept his apology without condemning him. It was simply a mistake on both their parts.
A soft knock interrupted her thoughts. As footmen brought in the tub and buckets of water, she walked to the window and stared out. Had he returned yet? What if something had happened to him while he’d been searching for her?
“Has the duke arrived back home?” she asked one of the footmen.
“I don’t believe he left the house tonight, Miss White. He’s been in his study all evening.”
Oh, dear God, no one knew he’d left his study. “Ask Randall to check on His Grace. I thought I saw him near the pond when I was coming back from Mrs. Wells’s home.”
“Yes, miss.”
Once they were gone, she blew out all but one candle and slipped into the steaming water. A soft sigh escaped her as her cold muscles finally relaxed. He would be fine, she told herself. So why couldn’t she believe that? He’d been born and raised here. He knew this estate better than most. But if something happened to him, it would be her fault for not speaking up when he had called out for her.
She washed quickly and then dressed in her night rail again. Standing near her bed, she bit down on her bottom lip, worried that she had caused the Duke of Northrop harm. She blew out the candle and walked toward the window. Pushing the curtain back slightly, she stared out into the dark night. At least the rain had finally stopped.
Selina spied a figure by the pond and then gasped. For a long moment, she could only gaze down at him as if in a trance. She blinked, quickly pushed the curtain in front of the window, and moved away. Her hand shook as she reached for the servants’ bell. He’d been staring up directly at her.
Her hiding place had been discovered!
Colin stared up at the window on the third floor. His body trembled from the cold, wet clothing he wore but his mind raced with insane thoughts. Perhaps his mind was playing with him again. Trying to clear his mind, he looked away and then back to the window. The image of the woman was gone as quickly as the flickering light had disappeared.
Even as chilly as he was, he sat on the pond wall and continued to stare up at the window for a few minutes. When nothing reappeared, he counted the number of windows over and then decided to act. He raced back to the door of his study and then headed for the stairs.
“Your Grace, you’re all wet,” Randall exclaimed.
“Yes, I am, Randall.”
“Wait,” Randall said as Colin reached for the first step. “Your Grace, can you look at something?”
Colin growled. “Can it wait?”
Randall’s face crumpled. “I’m sorry, sir. I just . . .”
“What is it?” Colin asked, approaching the young man.
Randall pushed up the sleeve of his jacket and pointed to a small mole. “Do you think this is something I should ask Miss White about?”
Remembering that Randall wasn’t the brightest man in his employ, Colin mentally counted to ten for patience. “It’s a mole, Randall.” He pushed up the sleeve of his own jacket. “See, I have several on my arm too.”
“So, I don’t have to worry about it?”
“No, Randall.”
Randall let out an exaggerated sigh. “Thank you, Your Grace. Shall I call for a bath for you?”
“Not yet,” he answered as he turned back to the steps. He climbed the marble stairs, cursing his wet boots for slowing him down.
“When then?” Randall mumbled.
“Later.”
Colin didn’t stop until he reached the third floor. He counted off the rooms and then hurled the fourth door open so hard it bounced off the wall and swung back toward him. The room was completely empty. But as he walked inside, the smell of a recently blown out candle wafted past his nose. Mixed with the acrid smell was a hint of lavender.
Someone or something had been in this room tonight. He moved toward the linen press and opened the cabinet doors. It, too, was completely empty. He spun around. There were no cloths on the furnishings. He was not losing his mind.
“Your Grace, what are you about wandering up here this evening?” Mrs. Roberts walked into the room. “Why, you are soaked to the bone! You need to get those things off before you catch your death.”
He looked over at Mrs. Roberts and frowned. “I was outside and noticed a candle flickering up here. I came up to investigate.”
Mrs. Roberts looked down at the floor. “I apologize, Your Grace. Miss White gave me some herbs for my gout and they make it hard for me to sleep. I thought I would get a start on freshening up the rooms on this floor. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
“I did not realize you were having issues sleeping.” The plump old face of Mrs. Roberts was not what he’d seen in the window.
“It’s better than the pain of the gout,” she replied with a hearty laugh. “Come down and let me call for a bath for you.”
He nodded. Perhaps a bath would help clear his mind. After spending almost two hours searching for Selina, he’d finally given up. She did indeed know this land better than he. Although, he hated the idea of her walking all the way back to Hart’s estate in the dark . . . alone. He should do something about that but the only sensible option was having her return here. And that kiss tonight proved he desired her far too much to allow her near him again.
He followed Mrs. Roberts down the stairs to his room and waited for his bath. Hearing the floor creak above him, he ignored the sound. There was no spirit in this house. It was only his imagination. The floor creaked because it was made of wood, which expanded and contracted depending on the weather.
The only thing he couldn’t explain was the face in the window.
It had been there. And he knew without a doubt that the face had not been Mrs. Roberts’s. The woman’s face was much younger and thinner than his housekeeper’s face. He raked his fingers through his wet hair. The woman, like the sounds, was his imagination.
God, he could not wait for Kate and her mother to arrive. Even though having them here would drive him mad, at least it was a madness to which he was accustomed. The emptiness of this house had to be the cause of his foolishness. Well, that and a petite blond who was driving him insane.
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