Falling for the forbidde.., p.14
Falling for the Forbidden Duke, page 14
‘No.’ Georgina grasped his arm. ‘Tell no one. Not even your servants, especially not your servants. You know how gossip spreads and news of this must not get out. If you can light a fire and bake scones, I’m sure you can pack your own bag. I’ll do the same. You’ll have to drive the carriage as well. No one, and I mean no one, must know of this.’
Georgina knew she was giving orders to a duke and had no right to do so, but the importance of saving Olivia’s reputation overrode any such protocol.
The Duke nodded. ‘But what of you? If you travel with a man unchaperoned your reputation too will be tarnished.’
‘I do not care. Now, let’s get going.’ Georgina did not want to explain to him that after what had happened she deserved a tarnished reputation, and that such an outcome would be a very small price to pay for saving Olivia from disaster.
‘As you wish. The carriage will be waiting for you at the front of the house once you are packed.’
Without answering, Georgina raced up the stairs and pushed some clothing into her carpet bag, then raced back down the stairs. It wasn’t long before the Duke arrived in a small gig pulled by one horse. They drove down the path to the village, and all the while Georgina prayed that they were not too late.
* * *
Luther had meant what he said. Duncan Campbell was an honourable man and would make an ideal husband for any woman. Perhaps it would not make Lady Dallington happy. She would much rather have her daughter married to a duke, even one as remiss as him, rather than a respectable country doctor as upstanding as Duncan Campbell. But Miss Daglish was worried, so he would help her, despite his better judgement.
He pulled the gig to a halt in front of the doctor’s residence. Miss Daglish chewed on her lip, and he could tell what she was thinking. The two-storey brick cottage in the middle of a small village, quaint though it may be, was a far cry from the grand house and countless servants Lady Olivia was used to.
‘It will all be all right,’ he said, although what ‘all right’ looked like he had no idea.
He helped her down from the carriage and they rushed up the pathway. Mrs Armstrong, the doctor’s housekeeper, answered the door.
‘Why, Your Grace,’ she said with a curtsey. ‘I’m afraid the doctor isn’t home at present, but if you’d like to—’
‘Where has he gone?’ Miss Daglish cut in, causing the housekeeper to frown briefly.
‘He’s gone to Edinburgh. That’s where his parents live and he is expected to be away for a few days.’
‘Do you have an address?’ Miss Daglish asked before the housekeeper had barely finished.
‘Yes, one minute. If you’d like to come in, I’ll find it for you. Perhaps you’d like a cup of tea while you wait.’
Luther placed his hand on Miss Daglish’s arm to stop her from once again giving the housekeeper a curt reply. ‘I’m sorry, Mrs Armstrong, but I’m afraid we are in a bit of a hurry and need to contact the doctor immediately.’
‘Oh, yes, of course, Your Grace.’ She rushed off down the hallway and quickly came back with an envelope bearing the return address of Mr and Mrs Campbell in Edinburgh.
He thanked Mrs Armstrong and they got back in the gig and headed towards the train station, hoping they would not be too late to make the train that would connect them to the one from London to Edinburgh.
With little time to spare, he took the horse and gig to a local stables, bought their tickets, then, taking Miss Daglish’s arm, ran along the platform, the porter racing behind with their luggage. Just as the whistle blew they found their first-class compartment, and settled back onto the leather bench with matching sighs of relief.
Finally, Luther had time to think about what he had just done. It had all happened so fast he had not even informed his mother that he was leaving. The moment he had an opportunity, he would send her a telegram to put her mind at ease.
He looked over at Miss Daglish. Her pretty face was still pinched with worry, her hands clasped tightly together in her lap. She too needed to have her mind set at ease.
‘Lady Olivia will come to no harm,’ he said, wishing he could reach out and comfort her, but knowing that would be inappropriate.
She released a small, shaky sigh. ‘You don’t know that for certain. You’re only saying it to reassure me.’
‘I don’t know for certain what will happen, but I know the doctor. He would never do anything to harm Lady Olivia, nor do anything to sully her reputation.’
Unlike me, the doctor would not take liberties with a young woman.
‘I can’t help but think this is all my fault.’
‘It is not your fault. Lady Dallington will no doubt find a way to blame you for Lady Olivia’s behaviour, but you do not need to blame yourself. Lady Olivia made her own choices.’
Instead of reassuring her, these words caused her hands to clench tighter, her brow to furrow deeper. ‘But what if she did this to punish me?’ She looked up at him, those brown eyes beseeching. ‘What if one of the servants told her about...about what happened between us, and that’s why she ran off with the doctor?’
‘I’m sure that is not true.’ At least he hoped it wasn’t true. If it was, then he was even more to blame for Lady Olivia’s behaviour than Miss Daglish was.
‘I can think of no other reason why she would act so impetuously, and with a man she hardly knows.’ Colour burst onto her cheeks and the unspoken words hung in the carriage between them. Hadn’t Miss Daglish acted impetuously with a man she hardly knew?
‘As I said, Dr Campbell is a good man.’ A much better man than I will ever be. ‘Even if we are too late, even if they have married, Lady Olivia will be married to a man who will care for her. Isn’t that what you want for your half-sister?’
She shrugged.
‘And perhaps she has fallen in love.’
She sent him an incredulous look, as if falling in love in such a short time was an impossibility.
‘Whatever her reasons, you cannot blame yourself for what happened.’
‘I can, and I do. This is all my fault. We should never have... What I did was unforgivable.’
‘No one can ever blame you. It is I who should have exercised more control.’
And I will need to continue to exercise control, something that would be easier if you weren’t so damn tempting.
Once again she was dressed in a plain brown dress with no ornamentation, and once again she looked more beautiful than any woman he had ever seen. He had attended countless Society events where women were dressed in expensive gowns, dripping with priceless jewels and their hair styled and bedecked with ribbons and feathers. But none looked as elegant as Miss Daglish did today.
The simple dress could not detract from those tempting curves he had felt when he held her in his arms. Full breasts, small waist and the sensual curve of her hips and buttocks seemed designed to undermine a man’s determination. His eyes moved to the creamy skin of her neck, exposed by the tight bun at the back of her head. His lips seemingly remembered what it was like to kiss that soft skin. As if unable to stop, his gaze moved to her luscious lips, and the temptation to take her in his arms and feel them again against his own lips filled him like a physical presence.
He suppressed a groan and looked up at those brown eyes, which were focused on him as if she was reading his mind. His gaze flicked to the passing scenery, but he hardly registered the green fields outside the window. All he could think was that he was alone with this woman, would be alone with her until they reached Edinburgh, and already he was having inappropriate thoughts about her. This woman was not for him, and if he had even a modicum of decency he would control his lust. To succumb would not only be unforgivable but would also be a further betrayal of everything he believed himself to be. He considered himself honourable, a man who put his duties and responsibilities as a duke before his own base needs. Now was the chance to prove that he was that man.
He had to think of something, anything, to take his mind away from her. Think of the prices he would get for this season’s spring lambs, the repairs that needed to be done to the tenants’ homes, the pensions that he would have to arrange for the farmhands who were of an age to retire from their labours. He should think of all that needed to be discussed with his estate manager when he returned from this quest. That should distract him from the feminine scent that was filling the carriage and sending his senses reeling. Because a distraction was what he desperately needed if he was to survive this journey.
Chapter Twelve
Even the train timetable seemed to be against him. Arriving at the station for their connection, Luther discovered the next train to Edinburgh would not be leaving until the following morning. They would have to find accommodation for the night. Together, alone.
He bought their tickets, then sent a telegram to his mother telling him that he, Lady Olivia and Miss Daglish had been called away, that she was not to worry, and he would explain all on his return.
Then he started to worry himself, and his sense of guilt intensified. Throughout the journey, Luther had found it all but impossible not to apologise repeatedly to Miss Daglish. He had told her that none of this was her fault, and yet he too felt as if he was responsible for all that had happened. Not that he blamed himself for Lady Olivia running off with the doctor, or saw it as a catastrophe, the way Miss Daglish did. The doctor was a good man. Wasn’t that the most important thing for a woman? Unlike him, Lady Olivia was not honour-bound to marry someone who would bring prestige to the family. She could marry for love.
But he did feel guilty, and never more so than now. Logically, he knew it was not his fault that they were going to have to stay together unaccompanied overnight. He did not control the railway timetable and had not manipulated this situation. But still he felt as if he was somehow responsible for their predicament. Again it was illogical, but after the way he had been thinking about Miss Daglish on the train it was almost as if he had willed it so they would spend even more time alone in each other’s company.
He hailed a hansom cab from the station and asked the driver to take them to reputable accommodation.
‘It will perhaps be best if I say that you are my cousin. That would explain why I am travelling with an unchaperoned young woman,’ he said to Miss Daglish, once they were alone inside the small carriage.
She nodded but made no comment. It was the only thing he could say. No one would believe that a woman dressed so plainly was his sister. Nor would anyone believe they were man and wife, not that he would ever think of passing them off in such a manner, as appealing as that might be.
‘To that end, it would be best if you stop calling me Your Grace and call me Luther, and I’ll have to call you Georgina.’
‘As you wish... Luther.’
His name had never sounded so seductive. It seemed to roll off her tongue like a caress, or was it merely that his fevered brain had immediately conjured up an image of her whispering his name as he held her close?
They arrived at the inn, and he booked two rooms. Fortunately, the friendly couple who owned the inn showed no reaction when he referred to Miss Daglish as his cousin, even though to Luther it sounded like an obvious lie.
The innkeeper arranged for luncheon to be served in the private dining room, and they sat at the table to eat a meal of chicken pie.
Miss Daglish merely picked at her food, and Luther found he too had little appetite.
‘Don’t worry. By tomorrow we will be in Edinburgh.’
She continued to move her food around her plate. ‘This has all gone so horribly wrong.’
‘Not necessarily. Hopefully we will still be in time to stop the marriage.’ Although, as Lady Olivia and Duncan Campbell were both adults, Luther could not really see how they could do that, or why they should.
She sighed, and the furrows in her forehead grew deeper. ‘She was supposed to marry you, and I suspect, if everything else hadn’t happened, you two might now be a courting couple.’
‘Hmm, perhaps. But everything did happen.’
Colour tinged her cheeks and she once again looked down at her uneaten meal. ‘I’ve ruined everything.’
Before he had time to think, he reached out and placed his hand over hers. ‘No, you have not.’
Her warm hand remained under his for a tantalising few seconds before she slowly withdrew it. ‘But if you had not met me...if we had not...’ she looked around the room and lowered her voice ‘...kissed, perhaps none of this would have happened.’
Luther wanted to deny everything she said, to tell her it had nothing to do with her. While she was not to blame, there was no denying it was all because of her. The moment he had seen Miss Daglish—Georgina—he had hardly even noticed Lady Olivia. Even if they had not kissed, he was sure his focus would have been on her, and not on the woman who would have made a suitable Duchess of Southbridge. But it was hardly her fault that she was so enchanting that she had seemingly bewitched him. Nor was it her fault that she was wholly unsuitable as a duchess.
‘I am a duke. One of my duties is to marry and sire the future Duke of Southbridge,’ he said, as much to himself as to Georgina. ‘As much as you may scorn this situation, it is a reality, and yes, Lady Olivia might have made an ideal duchess. You’re right that we should not have kissed. Or, should I say, I should not have kissed you? I should have remembered my duty.’ Luther knew he sounded somewhat pompous, but what he said was the truth.
‘Might have? Does that mean you will not be forgiving her this transgression?’
Luther almost laughed. How could she possibly think he would want to marry Lady Olivia? ‘No, I will not be considering her as a future duchess, but it has nothing to do with any so-called transgression on Lady Olivia’s part.’
She raised her eyebrows as if she did not believe him, then frowned. ‘That is why we have to keep this a secret. No man of your class will want to marry Olivia if they hear about this. Men can transgress as much as they like, but a woman, never.’
‘I said, that is not the reason I would not consider marriage to Lady Olivia.’
She waited, frowning and shaking her head slightly in question.
‘I knew, even before we kissed, that I would not be marrying Lady Olivia, but our kiss confirmed it,’ he said, as if merely stating an unemotional fact.
Her hand covered her mouth, in shock, or because she was trying to take back that kiss.
Slowly she lowered her hand. ‘But you owe me nothing. I told you I expect nothing from you and will not hold you accountable for what happened.’ She looked down and drew in a long breath. ‘When I went into Olivia’s bed chamber this morning I intended to tell her all that had happened between us, and to assure her that the blame was all mine. I had also planned to tell her that if you did marry I would ensure that I never saw you again, so she would know that there would never be anything between us.’ She looked back up at him, gauging his reaction.
Luther fought to keep his face impassive. How could he tell her he was obsessed with her, a woman he could never marry? That was the main reason why he would not consider marrying Lady Olivia. While he had no expectations of marrying for love, he could hardly marry one woman when he was constantly thinking of and fantasising about her half-sister.
‘But none of that matters now,’ he said instead.
‘No, I suppose not, but we still need to save Olivia so she can make another suitable marriage.’
‘And what if she is in love with Duncan Campbell?’ Luther could hardly believe he had just said that, that he was the one talking of love.
‘And what if she’s not? What if she is doing this because she is angry with me, or so upset she doesn’t know her own mind?’
‘I suppose we will not know that until we get to Edinburgh tomorrow and find them.’
She nodded slowly.
‘In the meantime, if you’re not going to eat your meal, perhaps we should stretch our legs with a walk around the township.’
Once again she nodded compliantly.
They left the inn and he offered her his arm. She hesitated.
‘You are my cousin, remember?’
For another second or so she hesitated, then took his arm and they walked along the busy footpath.
* * *
Every moment that passed Georgina’s anxiety increased. She should not be wandering through this town on the arm of the Duke. She should be saving her friend from making a dreadful mistake and ruining her life.
And her anxiety was not helped by once again being alone with the Duke. Completely alone. They would be spending the entire trip to Edinburgh alone. They would be alone together at the inn tonight. It was almost more than she could endure. But at least the Duke, or Luther, as she must now remember to call him, was giving no suggestion that he wanted to kiss her again. He had been the perfect gentleman. But the same could not be said about how she was feeling, being so close to him. So close she could smell his cologne, that tantalising masculine scent of bay and leather, a scent that had filled her senses when he had held her tightly. All she could think about was kissing him again.
She swallowed a small moan but could do nothing to stop a shiver from running through her body at the memory of his lips hard against hers, his body pressed tightly to her own, his arms encircling her.
‘Are you cold, Georgina?’ he asked, halting and looking back along the footpath. ‘Perhaps we should return to the inn.’
‘No, no, I’m not cold at all.’ The last thing Georgina wanted was for them to retire to somewhere private. They were much safer in a public place. She was much safer from the thoughts and desires that were possessing her. In public her self-control would not be tested.
‘Are you sure?’ he asked, with a frown of concern.
