Fortune's Folly - The Confessions Of A Duchess Part 15

Suddenly Laura had the disconcerting feeling that she had misread the situation completely. She had thought Dexter had meant to flirt with her, seduce her if he could and compromise her for the money. But in that moment she had the conviction that he had had a completely different aim in view all the way through their conversation. He had been sincere in his distaste for fortune hunting. He had told her the painful truth about his family and his obligations. She had misjudged him.

Dexter had also taken off his mask now and the anger in his blue eyes was so strong that it pinned her to the spot. "I have no idea what you mean, your grace," he said evenly, "but I am...disappointed...that you would believe that of me." He shifted, but the intensity of his gaze did not waver. Laura could feel her heart beating like a drum in sharp, vibrant snaps. She felt a moment's chill premonition and then he spoke again.

"I have no interest in whatever fortune it appears you have suddenly gained," he said. "What I actually wanted from you was to ask what you really felt on that morning four years ago when you dismissed me from your bed and your life." He raised his brows. "I think you lied to me at the time when you said you did not care for me. I think you were in love with me. I think that I was the man you spoke of just now. Now tell me the truth, Laura."

Laura stared at him in silence. Dexter's words had smashed the last vestiges of pretense between them. She could see now exactly what he had planned. The flirtation between them had been a seduction but it had been intended to seduce the truth out of her. He had calculated every question in order to draw her out. He had planned the conversation deliberately to get her off her guard, to tempt her into revealing too much. And she had almost done so.

"Laura?"

Unnoticed by the two of them, Alice Lister had approached and now laid a hand on Laura's arm.

"I do apologize for disturbing you," she said, "but Mama and I are ready to leave and we wondered if you wished to take the carriage home with us? Mama swears that Sir Montague's prawn patties have made her feel nauseous whilst I fear that the attentions of so many fortune hunters have had a similar effect on me. I hope," she added, as neither Laura nor Dexter had taken their eyes from one another, "that I have not interrupted you at a terribly delicate moment?"

"Not at all, Alice," Laura said, shaking herself. "I am quite ready to leave." She turned to Dexter and saw the cynical twist to his mouth as he realized she was going to walk out without answering him.

"Good night, Mr. Anstruther," she said. "I do not believe we have anything further to say to one another."

Dexter got to his feet and bowed to them. His blue gaze was still cold. "Good night, your grace. Good night, Miss Lister."

Alice slipped her hand through Laura's arm as they made their way round the edge of the ballroom. "Gracious," she whispered, "Mr. Anstruther can be extremely cold and cutting when he chooses. Whatever did you say to upset him, Laura?"

Laura let her breath out in a long sigh. She had not even been aware that she was holding it. She felt a little shaky.

"There was something that he wanted to know," she said, "but I did not wish to talk about it with him."

Alice looked at her curiously. "It must have been monstrous important."

Laura shook her head. "It was nothing of importance, Alice. Nothing at all."

IN THE SUMMERHOUSE at the bottom of the gardens at Fortune Hall, Lydia Cole was curled within the circle of her lover's arms. She liked to think of him as her lover although they had not made love with one another. Such a thing was, of course, completely forbidden and utterly out of the question, but she loved him and was almost certain he loved her, too, so they were definitely lovers in that true, pure sense of the word. In fact, Lydia loved him enough to want to be alone with him and therefore risk the scandal of discovery and the even worse danger of Faye finding out what she was up to. The thought of what would happen if her mother knew the truth was sufficient to make Lydia shudder, for there was no possible chance of matrimony with this gentleman. Her parents would never approve. Yet somehow his very unsuitability, and the hopelessness of her pa.s.sion, made Lydia feel all the more ardent.

It was a cold night with a bright, white full moon, but Lydia did not notice the sting of frost in the air for she was wrapped in her lover's black domino. It was warm and it smelled of him and the scent made her head spin. She leaned back against his chest and felt him nuzzle her hair gently. She liked that. His kisses were gentle and this soft caress was, too. He never frightened her with violent pa.s.sion.

His tongue searched out the delicate curve of her ear and the shivers ran down to her toes.

"I love you," she whispered.

"I know, sweetheart, I know...." There was a smile in his voice and it made her feel weak to hear it. He must love her to speak so tenderly to her.

"I have a gift for you," he continued. "Close your eyes and put out your hand."

Lydia did as she was bid. She heard the softest c.h.i.n.k of metal and then he placed something in her palm.

"Open your eyes."

The clear, hard moonlight shone on the necklace in her hand, turning the links of the fine golden chain to silver. He must have been wearing it about his neck for it was still warm from his body. Lydia touched it gently, reverently. There was a ring on the chain-a thick gold band-and in the moonlight she could see it had some letters inscribed on it but the light was not bright enough for her to read them.

"They are your initials," he said. "An L and a C." He sounded very pleased with himself.

Lydia gave a little gasp. "But this is too costly a gift! I cannot accept it. And how could you afford-"

"Hush." He put a gentle finger to her lips. "I want you to wear it about your neck. Do not let anyone see it, for it must be our secret for the time being."

"Of course," Lydia said, overwhelmed. "Of course, but-"

He turned her face to his and stopped her protests with a kiss. Lydia gave a little sigh. He must love her very dearly indeed to give her so precious a gift as this ring. She felt secure and cherished and extremely happy, and relaxed against him with a little sigh. The kiss deepened almost imperceptibly and Lydia surrendered to the sweetest, slowest and most gentle of seductions illuminated by the light of the moon.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

LAURA EASED OPEN THE wicket gate that led into the paddock and, holding her lantern high, picked her way across the field toward The Old Palace. Alice had been extremely concerned at the thought of her walking home alone in the dark and had wanted to send the carriage out again until Laura had pointed out that the journey took ten minutes by road and only two minutes across the fields on foot and she would not dream of causing Alice further inconvenience. Poor Alice had already been most concerned about her mother, for Mrs. Lister had been in extremis with the effects of the prawn patties and had descended from the carriage with more speed than grace in her dash for privacy. Laura had wondered whether Sir Montague's cook had been reduced to serving up the fish that had been intended for the stable cats in an effort to feed all the guests at the masquerade that night.

The moonlight was so bright that the lantern was almost superfluous and Laura could see her way with perfect clarity. She had walked these footpaths since she was a child and it was only the memory of the night in the priory ruins that made her grasp the lantern a little more tightly in one hand and her tiny pearl pistol in the other. At the back of her mind were Dexter's words to take no risks and not to put herself in danger, but nothing moved in the still moonlit landscape. No men in black dominoes stalked the priory ruins, except in her imagination.

She crept up the steps to the front door of The Old Palace, found it unlocked and slipped inside. There was no sign of Carrington. The house seemed asleep.

The hall was silent and shadowed. Laura slipped the cloak from her shoulders, took off her evening slippers and started to tiptoe up the stone stair. She felt relieved to be home. She felt safe.

She had gone no more than three steps when the door to the library opened and Dexter came out. He had her mask in his hands. Laura stopped dead. Dexter's gaze swept over her from her stockinged feet to the pearl pistol in her hand.

He smiled faintly although the smile did not reach his eyes, which remained cold. "History repeats itself," he commented. "Would you mind putting that pistol down? You are making me nervous."

"I was taking your advice not to go out unprotected," Laura said breathlessly, stowing the pistol in her reticule. Anxiety crawled through her to find him here. She had hoped against hope that he would not follow her whilst knowing with an absolute conviction that he was not the sort of man who would let the lies between them go unchallenged. She had thought about it all the way back in the carriage and had known that the reckoning would come. She had just not expected it to come so soon.

"That was not quite what I meant," Dexter said dryly. He took a step toward her. "Tell me, are you always this willfully foolish in your disregard for your personal safety?"

"We have had this conversation before," Laura said. "I was perfectly safe and you know I can shoot straight." She raised her brows. "In fact you are fortunate I did not shoot you as an intruder."

"I am sure you were tempted," Dexter said, "but I did not break in. Your butler opened the door to me, as is customary for visitors." He motioned toward the library. "Shall we? I want to talk to you and this is not the sort of conversation to have in the hall."

Laura hesitated and Dexter moved slightly, and she saw the look in his eyes and realized he was still angry. Her carelessness over her own safety had made him angrier still. If she did not walk into the library herself he would in all likelihood carry her in bodily. Her heart skipped a beat. She was very aware of his gaze on her as she pa.s.sed him in the doorway. She glanced up at him and saw that there was a hard, closed expression on his face.

Dexter shut the door behind them, turned the key in the lock and leaned back against the panels.

"I don't think that we finished our discussion earlier," he said pleasantly. "You know what it is that I want from you, Laura. Now tell me the truth." He shifted a little. "You sent me away from Cole Court pretending that you cared nothing for me. You said that the whole matter had been no more than a game to you. You implied you took lovers to your bed all the time. You lied to me through and through."

Laura felt a spurt of temper. "What if I did? You were penniless. You were at the start of your career and you were eight years my junior. I was married-a d.u.c.h.ess. I could not elope with you without ruining both our lives. I had to make you leave." She sighed, the anger going out of her as abruptly as it had jetted up. "It was easier that way, Dexter."

Dexter came away from the door in one fluid movement, trapping her into a corner with her back against the bookcases. Laura pressed herself back against the hard edges of the shelves but she could not escape his physical presence. It almost overwhelmed her.

"It was easier to make me hate you," he said harshly.

"If you wish to view it like that, then yes, it was!" Laura glared at him defiantly. "I knew that if you hated me you would leave and never wish to see me again."

"I see." Dexter spoke very softly. "I see it all now."

"I cannot see why it matters, anyway," Laura said. "What happened between us is all in the past. So far in the past that it is quite irrelevant and I do not intend to resurrect it."

Dexter was shaking his head. "I need to know how you felt, Laura," he said. "You owe it to me to tell the truth."

"Why?" Laura burst out. "It would change nothing-"

"It would give me some peace of mind," Dexter said grimly. "Do you know how it is for me, Laura? I have been courting Lydia Cole this month past but I have found I could neither make her an offer, nor could I transfer my attentions to any other female. The reason? It is because all I see is you. All I think about is you. All I want is you."

Laura put up a hand as though to ward off his words. "Don't," she said helplessly. "Don't say that."

"Why not?" Dexter said. "It is true. I have no difficulty in admitting the truth to you. I wanted to marry Lydia for her money-I told you tonight that I am nothing better than a fortune hunter. Yet I find I cannot offer for any woman because I am still haunted by what happened with you. I think about it all the time and until I can lay the past to rest, I know it will always be the same. I know it will always come between me and the future."

"Forget what happened between us," Laura said. Her pulse was slamming in her throat now. "Forget how I felt! It does not matter. All that matters is that both you and I were saved from making a mistake that would have ruined our lives. Find another heiress, Mr. Anstruther, if you cannot court my cousin. Heaven knows there are plenty of them about! Leave the past behind where it belongs."

"I wish that I could," Dexter said. His face was set and dark. "I have tried. Believe me, I have tried for all the reasons I told you about tonight." He shifted the point of his attack. "You said earlier tonight that you had been in love twice," he said softly. "You said it was a mistake because you were not free. I was the man you loved, was I not, Laura?"

The anxiety caught at Laura's breath, smothering her. Everything was unraveling now. The danger to Hattie was acute. She had known she had told Dexter too much when they had talked earlier. And he was not the sort of man who would forget a single word she had said.

Dexter took her chin in his hand and turned her face up to his. His gaze was intent on her, steady and compelling. Laura trembled beneath his touch.

"Laura, look at me," he said. "Were you in love with me?"

The moment spun out and seemed to stretch forever. Could she look Dexter in the eye and lie to him? Her defenses were at breaking point. But if it were to protect Hattie...

"No," she said. "You were not the man I loved."

She saw some expression flicker in his eyes and then he had released her and turned away. She was so relieved that she took a deep, gasping breath and felt her legs tremble so much that she was afraid she would fall. She wanted to embellish the lie, to lead him away from danger, but the words would not come. Lying just once to Dexter had been almost impossible, one of the most difficult things she had ever done, a horrible echo of the words she had spoken to him four years before when she had sent him away.

"I know that isn't true." Dexter's voice was flat. He did not sound surprised. He did not even sound angry with her. He turned back to her and his speculative expression did more to scare Laura than his anger could ever have done.

"You're lying to me," he said. His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "I don't know why it is so important to you to deny the truth, but there has to be a reason. What are you afraid of, Laura?"

She was afraid and she was lying and there was a reason and if he took one more step closer to the truth Laura knew that everything she had worked to protect would be finished. He moved back toward her, his gaze intent on her face. It felt as though he could see right through her denials and evasions, and it was terrifying. Laura took a step back and felt the backs of her thighs come up against the edge of one of the bookcases. She grabbed the edge of it for support, her fingers gripping the wood until they ached. He was very close to her now. His physical presence filled her senses. She forced herself to look up at him.

"You are imagining things, Mr. Anstruther," she said, as lightly as she could. "Perhaps your vanity cannot accept that I did not love you?" She gave a little shrug. "I am sorry. But you said that all you wished was to be free of the past. Now you are."

There was a pause. She was held captive by the look in his eyes. She licked her dry lips and saw his gaze drop to them, then his gaze came up to hers and it was hot and glittering with something that made her stomach clench.

"You said that was all that mattered to you," she whispered.

"I lied, too," Dexter said.

He raised one hand from the edge of the bookshelf, slid it around the back of her neck and suddenly his mouth was hungry and hard against hers. The last of Laura's composure splintered under the impact of the kiss. Her gasp of shock was lost beneath the pressure of his lips. He forced his hand into her hair and held her head still, his lips mercilessly plundering hers, the kiss utterly devastating in its emotional force. Laura's head spun and the hot tide washed through her body, leaving her shaking. She placed both her hands against his chest and held him a little way away from her.

"That was what I wanted," he said, his breathing as ragged as hers. "It is what I have always wanted."

"We cannot rekindle the past," Laura said. The raw, ruthless pa.s.sion was racing through her blood threatening to drive all else away. She struggled for control. "Dexter, we cannot do this. Everything is different now-"

"Maybe it is not."

He kissed her again, more gently this time, his tongue dipping and tangling with hers, teasing out a response from her rather than demanding one. The heat of his body seemed to burn her. The scent of his skin was drugging her senses. It was blissful torment. Laura could feel the whole, hard length of him against her, feel the urgency in his touch, and then he had scooped her up in his arms and carried her over to the green velvet chaise, sitting down with her across his thighs. He brushed her hair back with fingers that shook a little and scanned her face.

"Laura...So beautiful...How can I ever cure this wanting?" Dexter's voice was a broken plea, and the heat and excitement surged within her. To be desired was the most intoxicating feeling of all. It filled her with a heady feminine power. Charles had never wanted her; he had called her cold and had shunned her bed. But Dexter's hands on her body and his lips on hers had worshipped every hollow and every curve. Her scruples were lost in the hot and turbulent emotions he was stirring within her. She needed this comfort just as she had done four years before.

Laura put a hand to his cheek and felt the stubble rough against her palm. Dexter made a sound deep in his throat and then he had rolled her over so that her back was against the soft velvet of the chaise longue and her hair had tumbled from its pins to spread over the green cushions. He was leaning over her now and the smoldering fire in his blue eyes took her breath away.

"You may not want to tell me how you felt," he said, "but I will tell you what it was like for me that night at Cole Court." He raised a hand to her shoulder and slid the material of her gown down, following its path with his lips against her skin. "I wanted to make love to you," he said. His voice dropped to a whisper. She could feel his breath against the vulnerable curve of her collarbone. "It was a dream come true for me. From the moment that I first saw you I wanted you in my bed, Laura. I was young and idealistic and you were a G.o.ddess to me. I dreamed about you, with the most vivid and pa.s.sionate and downright erotic dreams of my entire life."

Laura's heart beat violently against the flimsy cotton of her bodice. She could feel the beats echoing through her body and through the chaise on which she lay. She was transfixed by the glitter of heat she could see in his eyes and by the brush of his lips against her neck and over her bare shoulder. The tiny hairs rose on her skin, which felt so unbearably sensitive as it begged for his touch. Her nipples tightened and she squirmed on the chaise, a movement that only served to inflame her further.

"I knew that you were not free," Dexter continued remorselessly. He bent his head to the neckline of her gown, his tongue flicking across the swell of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s as they strained against their confinement, dipping into the hollow between them. "It should have mattered to me but it did not. I was not as honorable as I had believed. Not when it came to wanting you." His lips paused above her breast and then he nipped at the swollen peak that was outlined so clearly against the silk of her gown. Laura smothered a gasp and grabbed his shirt in both hands, arching up toward him.

"I fulfilled my wildest fantasies with the d.u.c.h.ess in my bed." Dexter's voice had sunk to no more than a murmur. He drew her bodice down to bare her b.r.e.a.s.t.s to his lips and tongue. "It was exquisite. You were exquisite, Laura."

He kissed her again and she slid her arms around his neck and drew him closer, feeling the silkiness of his hair between her fingers and the roughness of his cheek against her softness. Beneath the constriction of her clothes her entire body ached to touch his. She wanted no barriers between them. His words had conjured all the memories of their time together in all their sweet, devastating urgency and Laura wanted that time over again, suddenly, desperately; she wanted to lose herself in the past and in the illusion of loving and being loved.

Her urgent fingers delved beneath his shirt, pulling it from his trousers so that she could run her hands over the muscular planes of his back. Her caresses wrenched a groan from him. She felt a shudder go through his entire body. It roused an answering need within her. She had forgotten where she was, had almost forgotten who she was, for her feelings were so caught up in the sensations of the moment that she could think of nothing else. The warmth of the room, the flickering of the fire in the grate, the shadows that danced along the wall all served to create an intimate and private place where the two of them were alone and the world could not touch them.

Dexter shifted slightly and Laura felt cool air touch her thighs as her skirts rode up about her hips. The chill feeling was acute, contrasting with the flare of warmth deep within her. Dexter was kneeling between her thighs now and she felt so desperate that the need for him almost choked her. His face was grave in the shadowed room and when he raised his gaze to hers his expression was intent and urgent.

"Laura..." He sounded dazed.

She knew that he was, somewhat belatedly, making an extreme effort to regain his self-control and suddenly she did not want him stop. She could not bear to be left wanting again, after so many empty years of missing him and longing for his touch. All her natural desires had been repressed for so long. The loneliness yawned within her. If he left now it would devour her. It would be intolerable. It would break her.

She reached up and brought his lips down to hers and felt the resistance in him before he sighed against her mouth.

"I want you," she whispered. "Don't leave me. Please don't leave me now."

She reached for the fastening to his trousers, not wanting to give him time to think in case he denied her. She fumbled the b.u.t.tons because her fingers were shaking so much and heard him laugh ruefully.

"Wait." His fingers brushed hers, putting her hands gently aside. Laura sank back against the cushions, closing her eyes, trying to draw him down with her, but he resisted. For a moment she was terrified that he was going to get up and simply walk away, but then she felt him flip her petticoats up to the top of her thighs and she gave a gasp. His hand stroked across the soft skin of her bare abdomen, a gentle caress that sent the tremors rippling deep within her body.

She made a little needful noise deep in her throat. Her skin felt hotter and hotter as he traced a line from her belly to her thigh. He cupped her s.e.x in his hand and she moaned, her whole body shivering uncontrollably as he parted her and teased and explored her. Her breath was coming in shallow little gasps. She ached and shook. But this was not what she wanted. Not this time.

"No!" She grabbed his arm. "This time I want you inside me."

She felt him pause. "Laura..." His voice was so rough she barely recognized it.

"Please." It was the only way she could feel complete. She needed to banish the darkness. "I need you."

She looked at him. His body was so taut with the effort of control that she thought he shuddered with it. His eyes were dark with concentrated desire. She put out a hand to him and saw his self-control splinter.

He was shaking as much as she was as he lowered himself between her thighs and she felt the tip of his erection slide within her. Pleasure drenched her and she reached out to him, kissing him with a desperate hunger, her hands sliding over his back and down to his b.u.t.tocks to draw him into her. He pushed a little deeper and she was afraid she would come apart with the bliss of it. His hands slid beneath her, tangling in her skirts, raising her up so that he could plunge in deeper, and a sweet agonizing sensation swept through as he drove into her, pushing her close to the brink.

He had seen how close she was. He withdrew a little. His lips brushed her brows before dipping to hers in a kiss that was gentle but hot.