Fate Is A Stranger: Regency Romance (14 page)

CHAPTER 14

Next day, after a stroll in the garden with Sadie, Violet accompanied her mother back to her room. And after she had settled Sadie by the warm fire and assured her that she would only be gone for an hour, Violet left the house through a back stair so that her walk to the little jewel of a wood would go undetected.

As she entered the wood she breathed deeply of sorrel and laurel, pine cones and fir. She sighed deeply as she realized how much she enjoyed nature. Nature never let her down. Trees were there to fill her senses with a feeling of wellbeing and the earthy soil was pungent with life when wet, dry or hot from the sun. She was filled with joy at the antics of birds, rabbits or squirrels or the scent of a flower. The crunch of nettles and dried leaves under her feet made her feel part of the wood, as though they had waited for her patiently and now she was here and they were happy to have her be part of them.

"You make me very jealous, Miss Durbin."

Violet jumped at the sound of the duke’s voice behind her.

"You startled me, your grace."

"You seemed so at one with the nature of this place as to make me quite envious. You were positively enraptured. Were you to glance with such a look in your eyes at me some day, I would consider myself the luckiest of men."

"Were you on your way somewhere, your grace?" asked Violet. Solitude, apparently, was unattainable here or in London. And to be truthful, a solitude that would be a shield that would protect her treacherous heart that was beating wildly at the sound of Hawk's voice. She resolved not to look directly into his eyes, for they were in a completely isolated place and such a setting was very dangerous.

"I can guess at your thoughts, Miss Durbin. You are wondering if there can possibly be a place where you can escape my presence. Were you not?"

Violet did not answer, for she was intent on controlling her legs which felt heavy and unable to hold her. She reached for the trunk of a tree, to steady herself.

He came closer to her and looked into her eyes. Was she the only one who saw beyond his title and wealth and was so affected by his intense moss-gray eyes and disturbing nearness?

Remember, he made wagers at White's as to when he would succeed with you.

These words rang discordant in her mind. The duke did not appear to be the type of man who would stoop to such pettiness. Yet Souten had challenged her to ask him about it. Surely if it were not true he would not have dared risk Hawkinston denying it.

She glanced at his hands, for he held a walking-stick before him and rested his hands one on top of the other on it.

Why was it that the more she looked at the duke the more attractive he became? She realized it was dangerous that she saw no flaws in him.

She was extremely conscious of the muscles of his legs that were clearly outlined under his narrow tan trousers.

As he got nearer to her, she looked into his face, startled that his legs were suddenly pressed against her, shooting showers of tingles down to her legs. She was fascinated by his nearness and maleness and the scent of him that enveloped her in a sexual immediacy, as if her body must respond—now. And like a moth stuck in the aura of a flame, she was unable to move away from him as swirls of feeling coursed through her, making her weak with longing.

He took her chin in his right hand and dropped the cane to the side. He then put his left arm on her back and pulled her closer to him. The tips of her breasts hardened and a whorl of pleasure coursed from them to the center of her being as a shudder shook her body.

As his lips hungrily claimed hers a shower of tingles streamed down to her core and his hand on her back pressed her closer so that their bodies meshed.

This was what heaven was made of.

Hawkinston's arms about her and his lips on hers were love and warmth, and again his hand went to her bosom and he cupped her left breast, as he had done before. Yet now, having lived and re-lived that instance in her mind so many times, the exquisite pleasure was now a hundred-fold. He eased her body onto the bracken and dead leaves while the smell of new grass and the chirping of birds tangled in and around her aroused passion.

She felt her under garments being eased down from her waist and his hands slid between her legs as a fluid weakness invaded her body. He ran his hands along the bare sides of her body, down her hips and legs. She felt the incendiary response of her skin to his touch as she saw him lower her head toward her as if in a mist. His hands were now hard on her hips and they slid behind her, raising her buttocks so that her exposed belly was now inches from his face. His hands slid down from her stomach, lower, lower, in a mesmerizing eddy of pleasure.

For a while Violet gave in to the sheer ecstasy she was engulfed in. There was nothing that had ever happened to her that could compare to this.

She loved him—that was the difference.

Love?
The thought suddenly jolted her. Was she in love with Hawk?

She realized she was and that was why she was being led down a road she should not have entered.

Suddenly there was a sharp jagged cliff before her and she saw herself on the edge, teetering dangerously.

It was not a precipice to him, for he had nothing to lose.

She had everything to lose.

She sat up and pushed him away, and as her body separated from his a cold wave shot throughout her hot body. She then stood up so suddenly and with such strength that he almost fell sideways.

And she had thought that maybe, just maybe, Hawk loved her. That was surely the essence of insanity. The duke might love her, but not in the same way he would love a girl he considered respectable. He would never marry a strumpet. That was what he considered her and that was why each time he was alone with her he didn't feel afraid he would compromise her, for who could compromise a strumpet?

But it wasn't love and she mustn't make herself believe that. And even if it were love, it was not the right kind of love.

Hawkinston's arms about her did not mean love, fidelity and safety. She felt a sting in her throat and in her eyes.

His arms about her did not mean sincerity and trust.

None of these were present in this kiss and embrace and in his insanely pleasurable love-making. What his kisses and caresses were made of were passion, lust, pride and vanity and she would not be lured into a trap, however hard it was to pull away from him.

She had mustered all the willpower she possessed and she still reeled from the blast she felt within her as she pushed him away.

Tears slid down her cheeks as she gathered her under garments and walked quickly away from him.

She had pushed heaven back and there was no joy in it.

But he would not win his wagers at White's!

"Your grace, please allow me to continue on my walk by myself," she said as she slid into her chemisette and pantalets, feeling a blush steel up her neck. It would haunt her for a long time. She would re-live it in her mind thousands of times and wonder if he were right in thinking her to be whore. She had allowed him plenty, hadn't she? No use trying to excuse her actions.

"You have become quite a tease, Miss Durbin," said the duke echoing her painful thoughts, "but one as light as a
papilio
. I hardly realized you had fled my embrace," His eyes looked deeply into hers.

"A butterfly? Yes, but one speared across with a pin to be exhibited like a
pictura
," responded Violet, "Which is how I feel when in your company. Such a creature can hardly be a tease."

"I see Latin, too, was part of your education, Miss Durbin. You have a fine mind as you have demonstrated on many occasions by your quick
ripostes
, and that fine mind has ample control of your body. However, isn't that the first prerequisite of a tease?"

"As you seem to believe that 'my kind' would use such wiles, you can hardly expect me to reply, but I will say that it is a poor life that is ruled by the flesh, I would rather be buried than live the life of a creature ruled by her senses."

"As did—" the duke stopped himself. And Violet well knew what he had been about to say—unforgivable words, hurtful words that would have put a breach between them that would be difficult if not impossible to overcome. He appeared shaken by what he had almost said. He shook his head as Violet gazed at him.

"Please finish your sentence, your grace, for it is hypocrisy to halt your words, when we both know what you intended to say."

"You misunderstand me, Miss Durbin."

"Please do not add a lie to your unfinished sentence,” she said as she turned away from him.

Violet returned the same way she had come, her step a lot faster than the leisurely stroll with which she had entered the wood.

In future she would make certain the duke was occupied before entering the wood. She would never allow an instance where they would be alone again.
And this time she meant it
.

* * *

"You had two dances with the duke? And how did that come about, Galena?" asked Galena’s mother, visibly impressed. She had been unable to attend the ball but listened eagerly to her daughter’s recounting of it.

"Lady de Compte was extremely helpful," Galena replied.

"Lady de Compte? Do I know her?"

"I believe not," said Galena, "But
I
do, and that is what matters. She is proving to be a valuable asset to me in this sojourn, Mama."

"I am glad, dearest, for your mama cannot do much, laid up with
la grippe
as I am. But how did this Lady de Compte accomplish this?"

Lady Selena was always eager to hear of Galena's exploits, at once fascinated and repelled.

"She waylaid the duke for me, Mama, and under her direction, I made a pretense of 'tripping' in front of him and dropping my reticule. Once he had it in his hands, I assured him that the only way he could make up for almost knocking me over was to dance with me."

"Very clever of you, my dear and the duke
is
a pillar of society. Quite a contrast to some of the dukes around, as you have pointed out."

Long ago, Lady Selena had realized that life was much more enjoyable if she agreed with everything Galena wanted.

"You are perhaps correct in setting your cap on Hawkinston. And did he display an interest in the dance you induced him into?"

"He seemed distracted," said Galena with a frown. "However, no gentleman would have denied such an outright request in front of a witness. That's why Lady de Compte said I had to have a witness. I am only incensed that I am reduced to trapping the duke into dancing with me, when he should be going out of his way to get
me
to dance with him instead of chasing that harlot."

"Harlot?" asked Lady Selena, alarmed. "What harlot? So you refer then to this Lady de Compte? Galena, you are confusing me."

"Mama, do try to keep up, you’re getting as vague as your sister. I meant Violet Durbin, Lord Kelly's bastard daughter."

"Galena," Lady Selena ventured, "I hope you use such terms only when you are alone with me. You cannot endear yourself with anyone connected to his grace if you express yourself in such a manner.

"Yes, I do believe you mentioned that girl, Violet, before. I am sorry my sweet, sometimes I forget names. I know a little of the background of that family," she added. "When Lord Kelly legitimized her it was the talk of the ton. Society is becoming more vulgar each year. I could not countenance the waltz when it appeared a decade ago, nor did many in society, yet now it is as common as grass."

"What do you know about Violet's family, Mama?" asked Galena. She moved closer to her mother.

"Tell me quickly."

"Oh, it’s nothing derogatory, I assure you. Everyone believes that Sadie, Lord Kelly's new wife and former mistress comes from a lowly background, but she doesn't. Her father was a gentleman and lost his fortune in France with the revolution. Her mother was also a lady from a modest family."

"Lady de Compte said something of the sort, " said Galena with a frown. “But I hope both of you are wrong, Mama."

"I’m certain of it, " said her mother, “and what's more, my dear,” she added, "you will not be happy with what I will reveal next."

"What? What is it, tell me quick."

"Sadie's mother has a family connection to
us!
"

Stunned, Galena said nothing but stared at her mother, her face having become a blanched hue, Lady Selena went on,

"Gerard Dupleis, her mother's father and
my
father—your grandfather Gilbert—were second cousins."

"I forbid you to tell this to anyone," said Galena, alarmed at her mother's revelations. "I don't even believe it myself. We cannot be related to those harlots!"

"Well, even though it’s not widely known, my dear, it will be hard to keep under wraps, as Lady Engelring mentioned it to me the other day, without me even dreaming of telling her of it. Lady Engelring's husband, Sir Roland, is a keen student of family trees and such, my dear, and told his wife of this connection of ours."