Duchess by Chance (23 page)

“Wrap your legs around me.”

She instantly complied. It was as if her body was his to command. Holding his shoulders, she called his name as he slowly withdrew then re-entered her. The feelings he was creating in her were beyond belief; she couldn’t think or draw breath. His hot breath whispered wicked words into her ear as he drove into her again and again, until finally she could take no more.

He felt the beginnings of her release and knew that within seconds she would climax in his arms. Thrusting harder and faster, he joined her. They rode the waves of pleasure, every last drop wrung out of them until Daniel staggered backwards, collapsing into a chair.

The trickle of her tears roused him. Pulling her head from his neck, he used the pads of his thumbs to wipe them away. “Did I hurt you, sweetheart?”

Eva shook her head. “Oh no, Daniel, I… I… It was just so wonderful, I…”

“Ssssh,” he whispered against her lips. “I understand.” Dear God, he did. Every time he made love to her, his emotions ended shredded at his feet.

With Eva in his arms, he walked through the connecting doors and into his room. He lowered her to the bed. She lay unmoving, limp and thoroughly sated. Pushing the covers aside, he settled them both on the sheets. She murmured something, then wriggled backwards until she was nestled in the curve of his body.

“Goodnight,” she sighed.

Daniel pushed her hair aside and kissed a warm cheek. “Goodnight, Duchess.”

Eva groaned, rolled over and buried her head under the pillows as her maid opened the curtains.

“A Mr. Winchcomb has called to see you, your Grace.”

Eva sat upright. Instinctively her hands clutched the pillow closer.

“Which Mr. Winchcomb, Molly?”

Molly picked up Eva’s nightdress where it lay beside the fireplace. “I am not sure, your Grace. Mr. Wernham did not say.”

“I…is my husband at home?” Eva asked, praying fervently that he was not.

“No, your Grace, he left early but has organized for two grooms plus myself to accompany you on your visit to the Dowager Duchess’s house.
 

It would be her father. Dear God, why had he come here?

“I have your bathwater ready, your Grace.”

Eva, who was usually fairly independent when it came to dressing and bathing, allowed Molly to assist her because her mind had suddenly gone blank.
 

“Is there a problem, your Grace?”

“Oh…uh, no, Molly.” Eva tried to focus on her maid as she arranged her hair. She must gain control of herself - she was now a duchess, and would deal with whatever her father wanted. Her eyes fell on the beautiful sapphire bracelet and necklace Daniel had given her last night. Surely he would not want more from her so soon.
 

Wernham was waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs. His face wore its usual impassive expression.
 

“Good morning, Wernham.”

“Good morning, your Grace. I have put Mr Winchcomb in the rosewood parlor.”
 

“Thank you and please send a note to the Dowager Duchess of Stratton to say that I will be on time for my eleven a.m. appointment this morning.” Eva then took a deep breath and followed the butler. He opened the door and she lifted her chin and walked inside.

“There she is,” her father said, climbing to his feet and coming toward her. “My daughter, at last we are again reunited.”
 

“What do you want, Father?” Eva took a step to the side as he reached for her. “Surely you have not come for more money so soon?” This last she whispered so Wernham did not hear.

“Is that any way to greet your dear papa?” Spencer Winchcomb did not look happy at her words. “Dismiss your servant, child, and come and sit with me,” he coaxed.

“I have instructions to stay with the duchess when she has visitors, sir, especially male visitors,” Wernham added and Eva wondered if her husband had made that decision after last night and her dance with Huxley. Moving to stand beside the door they had just entered, the butler nodded to her and she knew there was no possible way she would be able to move him, even if she wanted to.

“I am no visitor,” Winchcomb roared. “I am her father!”

“You will not speak to my staff that way, Father. They are not yours to dictate to.” Eva was still standing although her knees were quaking.
 

“Have you forgotten our discussion so soon, Daughter?”
 

Eva watched her father struggle to control his temper and then followed him as he moved to the rear of the room out of Wernham’s hearing. A muscle had begun to tick in his neck and had they been alone, he would have struck her and she did not rule out the possibility that he would when next they met.
 

“Why have you come here, Father?”
 

“I have merely come to see if the duke is looking after my little girl,” he said through his teeth. “And to remind her where her duty lies.”

So that was it. This was just a visit to intimidate her in her own home. His show of strength to let her know there was nowhere she was safe.

“Lord Huxley was not happy with your behavior last night and urged me to pay you a visit to remind you where your loyalties lie.”

This man had tormented her and Reggie most of their lives, and he dared to question her behavior.

“I will do as you say, Father, because the consequences are not worth the risk of disobeying you. However, I will not allow you inside this house again, nor will I allow your revolting friend to torment me.”

His lips curled as he grabbed her hand and squeezed it hard.
 

“We have plans for you, daughter, plans for your future. So we can wait, but in the meantime you will supply us with the funds to continue living like gentlemen.”

He pinched her cheek and then he walked from the room, whistling.

“I will show your father to the door, your Grace.”

“Thank you, Wernham, and I would ask you not to inform my husband of Mr Winchcomb’s visit.” Sinking into the nearest chair, Eve then put her head in her hands and tried to think. How was she to escape both her father and Lord Huxley’s clutches?

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“The carriage has arrived, your Grace, and Molly is ready to accompany you,” Wernham said, re-entering the room a short while later.
 

Eva spent the short trip to the Dowager Duchess’s townhouse wondering when her father would strike next and trying to work out what he meant by future plans for her. He could blackmail her into giving him money but what else did he have in mind? Pushing the thoughts aside, she focused on the upcoming interview. Like her husband, the Dowager Duchess had her own brand of intimidation and she would need her wits about her.
 

London was bustling as usual, and Eva realized she was growing accustomed to the strange sights and smells as the carriage rolled through the city streets.
 

“Mr. Wernham has asked me to stay by your side, your Grace,” Molly said, looking determined yet frightened by the prospect.

“That will not be necessary, Molly - the Dowager Duchess will not harm me.”

“As to that, your Grace, Mr Wernham says that she can terrify most people into a fit of hysteria.”

“Surely not. She is but one old lady, Molly, and my husband’s grandmother. I am sure there is nothing to worry about.” Eva could tell the maid wasn’t convinced, yet she held her tongue, and by the time they arrived, Eva’s already taunt nerves were stretched tighter.

She were shown into a small parlor. The walls were dark, the furniture large and austere. She searched for a few lace covers or pretty flowers but could find none.
 

“At least you are prompt!”

“Thank you, your Grace,” Eva sank into a curtsy.

“For pity’s sake, girl, call me Grandmother!”
 

“Really?” Eva felt her cheeks flush with pleasure.
 

“Really what?” the dowager snapped, taking a seat.

“I may call you Grandmother?”

“I have said so, have I not?”

“Thank you, Grandmother, it will be an honor.” Eva moved to the elder woman’s side and brushed a kiss on her cheek.

The dowager harrumphed and muttered something about it not being the done thing to be so demonstrative, but secretly, Eva felt the old lady was pleased with the attentions and suddenly she was not so afraid. Daniel had given her a grandmother.
 

“Come, I will show you the ballroom.”

Before she could offer her assistance, the woman had stalked from the room. Eva quickly followed. They walked down stairs, along halls and up more stairs until Eva was thoroughly lost.

“We will have a formal ball. None of this silly theme and mask-wearing carry-on, Granddaughter.”

“Of course.” Eva looked around her. The ballroom in the dowager’s home was huge - surely it could house hundreds of people without them even touching each other. The floors were of beautiful polished wood, and along one side, a row of white doors led to a large balcony.

“My husband and I entertained often when first we wed.”

“And of course you were one of those hostesses everyone speaks of,” Eva said wistfully as she walked slowly down the room.

“Yes, I was a grand hostess - everyone begged for an invitation to any party I hosted.”

Eva sighed as she touched one satin curtain. “I fear I shall fail,” she whispered.
   

“You most certainly will not fail!” the dowager declared. “We shall ensure that, in fact, you are a great success.”

Eva looked at her new grandmother. Their eyes held, steely determination in one set and uncertainty in the other. Something passed between them in that moment and Eva wondered briefly if this was what having a mother felt like. Someone who looked out for you, took you to task when required, but cared if you succeeded or failed. She saw acceptance in the elderly woman’s gaze.
 

“In that case, Grandmother, tell me what you wish me to do.”
     

“I will have my staff clean and polish this room till it sparkles. Plenty of flowers I think. I will also have the menus drawn up, since you will have no idea what is required yet.”

Eva nodded.

“We will take tea now and work on the guest list.”
 

“Well, I have two friends to put on the list,” Eva said wryly.

“Perhaps I will have your husband look over it.” The dowager snorted.

Eva followed her as she strode around the room, pointing out this and that. Daniel was so like his grandmother. They were both big and blessed with the belief that wherever they walked, others would follow.
 

“You will need a new gown for the night and I shall leave that in your hands. Just make sure it is not too revealing - I will not tolerate the new Duchess of Stratton looking like a trollop.”

“I shall make sure that is not the case,” Eva vowed solemnly.

“Tea is served, my lady,” a servant then announced.

Eva took the dowager’s arm as they retraced their steps through the huge mansion. After taking her seat, she watched, enchanted, while her grandmother prepared the tea in a long, drawn-out ritual she had obviously undertaken many times.

“The Duke of Stratton, my lady.”

Daniel had been on his way to the club when he’d found himself outside his front door. Thoughts of Eva had consumed him all morning. The need to touch her, see her and make her smile had taken precedence over anything else. When Wernham had told him she had gone to visit his grandmother already, he had followed. He would not allow the old woman to censure her. Eva was just starting to gain confidence in herself and he would let no one hinder that.

Walking into the parlor, he stopped. Dear God, his grandmother was laughing. In fact, if he was not mistaken, she had tears raining down her cheeks. His wife was giggling, a husky little laugh that rolled down his spine and made his stomach clench.

“Daniel!”

“Hello, Duchess.” Eva came toward him, her smile spontaneous and genuine. Taking the hand she held out to him, he kissed the palm.

“Such an unseemly display in public,” the dowager huffed.

“Surely not unseemly, Grandmother,” Eva protested. “After all, you are not public - you are family. Therefore, the rules do not apply.”

Daniel waited for the set-down from the older lady and then he would step in and defend his duchess.

“She has spirit, Grandson,” his grandmother said, to his surprise. He could see the laughter in her eyes as she looked at Eva; it seemed his wife had enlisted the dowager to her ranks of devotees.