Chapter 15

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

" L ord and Lady Harwood are comfortable in their rooms," Roberts informed Benedict. "And Lord Luton has asked whether you will be putting together a hunting party anytime soon."

Benedict chuckled. "I am sure he has. Tell him that if he is so eager to hunt on my estate, he should be satisfied with chasing after my maids – a sport I am certain that he has already helped himself to."

The duke's butler shook his head, trying to hide a smile.

"Anything else?" Benedict asked him, turning back to his desk. He would leave the study soon, to join the others at breakfast, but there were a few matters which needed to be attended to before the day's festivities began.

"I have asked one of the maids to check in on Lady Thalia, though she has insisted she does not need any help."

Instantly curious, Benedict turned back to Roberts. "Is everything all right?"

"She is a little under the weather I believe. But she has dismissed her own maid for the day, insisting that someone had better enjoy the day if she cannot. At least, that is what Catherine told me when I sent her to check up on Lady Thalia."

Roberts smiled a little. "But I am certain that she has said something in that vein," he added. "I had the pleasure of conversing with Lady Thalia yesterday afternoon. Very few lords and ladies take the time to ask a butler how his day has been. But those that do leave a favorable impression."

Benedict was not entirely surprised to hear this but was impressed that Thalia had already managed to impress his butler. Roberts was not a man to be easily swayed.

"You are sure that she is not dangerously ill?" he asked.

Roberts nodded. "Catherine assured me that Lady Thalia was in good spirits and that her pallor was normal. I believe she is merely in need of some rest. Last night's activities must have tired her out."

Benedict had to turn away to hide the unexpected grin that crossed his features. If only Roberts knew just how accurate that statement was.

"Thank you, Roberts. I shall join everyone for breakfast shortly. Please keep an eye on the guests for me and notify me if anyone has any further needs which must be met."

"Yes, Your Grace."

Benedict heard the door close behind Roberts. Only then did he allow himself a self-satisfied chuckle. So, he had tired Thalia out? If that had left her spent, then she had better prepare herself. What she had experienced the previous night was just a modicum of the pleasure he could give her. A tiny taste of what he was capable of. If she wanted to see what Benedict could do to her – what he wanted to do to her – she had better be ready.

He had dreamed of their encounter in his sleep last night. And it was fresh on his mind this morning. Indeed, even when she had disappeared up to her rooms, Benedict had spent the rest of the evening smiling to himself as he mused upon their secret tryst.

It was certainly not the first time he had performed such actions upon a woman. But something about the way Thalia reacted to his touch – the delicious sounds she made – stirred his blood every time he recalled the encounter.

Their conversation beforehand, too, had been replaying itself in his mind. What she had confessed to him about her role in her family had taken him by surprise. The weight she carried willingly was impressive. It was almost miraculous that she did not blame her father for any of it. From what Benedict could see, the older man should be shouldering much more of the estate's burden.

As he mulled over this, there was another knock at the door. Thinking Roberts had forgotten to tell him something, Benedict called out, "Come in."

But when he turned to face the newcomer, his smile fell away. "Mother. Was there something you needed?"

Marina looked around the study with an air of disapproval. Benedict would have expected nothing less.

"May not a mother simply speak with her son?" she asked after a moment.

"She may, but her son has no obligation to listen," he retorted. He turned to his desk. "I have work to do."

"It is about your choice of wife."

Benedict sighed. He turned back to face his mother. "And?"

"I have been watching Lady Selina carefully. She is an elegant woman and well-behaved. She has been raised well and I believe she may be a good candidate for becoming Duchess of Ravenwood."

"I am glad you approve, Mother. I would be beside myself, I'm sure, without your support." Benedict practically had to wipe away the sarcasm dripping from his words.

"The marriage will need to take place soon," Marina continued, either ignoring his derision or choosing to push past it. "I suggest we begin to plan for the ceremony with some urgency."

"You may do as you wish," Benedict replied carelessly. "But I assure you that you will have no lasting say in any part of the matter."

At this Marina bristled. She raised herself up, eyes flashing. "I have allowed you to speak discourteously to me for far too long. You have no right to say such things! I am your mother and I demand the respect I deserve!"

"You deserve nothing!" Benedict snapped, anger washing over him. This time, he would not hold it back. "You speak of rights? You have none. You lost the right to be a parent to me the day you left this estate. If you had wanted any part in my life, you should have chosen to be a part of it years ago."

Marina was dumbfounded. Benedict clenched his jaw, unwilling to say anything more. She had provoked him to anger, but she did not even deserve such a reaction from him. The best she had earned from him was cold indifference.

For a moment, he thought he saw a flicker of guilt cross her regal features, but he quickly dismissed it as a trick of the light. Such a woman would never admit to wrongdoing, even if she truly was at fault; even if she had abandoned her son when he had needed her most.

"I had come to warn you of something," Marina murmured after a moment, all the outrage and pride of her previous statement gone. "But I know you do not wish to hear anything I have to say. Still…" She heaved a sigh. "I should tell you that people have noticed how much attention you have been paying to Lady Selina's older sister. If you intend to make the younger Fletcher daughter your wife, you should perhaps make such intentions clearer."

"You worry that I seek to marry a spinster?" Benedict let out a dry scoff.

"I do not know what your intentions with Lady Thalia are. But you certainly pay her a great deal of time and attention. I am not the only one to have noticed, either."

"Of course, you only care now that others have begun to talk about it," Benedict mused, turning away from his mother. If he looked at her for too long, he would grow angry again, and he did not wish her to see how easily she could provoke his wrath.

"But I –"

"I know exactly what I am doing, Mother . Everything I do is with great forethought and intent." Benedict hesitated, the image of Thalia's face suddenly before him – her cheeks flushed with desire as he knelt before her, his hands working to stir her to even more passion. That encounter he had not planned. But he had wanted it. Neither did he regret it.

"Lady Thalia is her sister's keeper," he continued, pushing away the memory of their encounter. "If a man wishes to wed Lady Selina, then her sister must first be won over."

"Surely her father must be convinced as well," his mother added, looking at him with a slight touch of puzzlement.

"Yes, but he will be easily convinced if Lady Thalia approves of the match. He relies on her in many matters, not just in courtship and matrimony."

Marina continued to look perplexed. "You know much about the family."

"I have made the proper investigations into such matters," Benedict replied confidently. Indeed, there is more of Lady Thalia that I still wish to investigate. The thought brought a wicked smile to his lips.

"One might suggest that you know much more about Lady Thalia than your intended bride."

Benedict spun back to face his mother, his anger flaring once more. "What is it you wish to say? Stop beating about the bush and speak to me frankly. Or, if you cannot, go take your mutterings and musings elsewhere."

Once more – for a little longer this time – Marina's features betrayed her hurt. Benedict paused, registering this. Then he reminded himself that she could pretend to be the victim all she wanted; he would never believe such an act.

"Your behavior has changed of late," she said carefully, seeming to search for the right words. "You have not been out until all hours of the night as you usually are. Nor have you been cavorting with the ladies of the court as you want to."

Careful to keep his face a mask of indifference, Benedict listened. Indeed, he had not realized that there had been a change in his behavior until just now. But Marina was right.

She continued. "I would attribute the change in your conduct to your desire to wed Lady Selina, but you and I both know that you would not deny yourself the usual pleasures either before or after your wedding. Nor would you have difficulty hiding such trysts from your future Duchess."

Growing angry again – this time with how knowledgeably his mother spoke of his character and behavior – Benedict growled, "And? What is your point?"

"My point is," Marina sighed, "That all of this seems to have come about because of Lady Thalia. I spoke with her the other day, and I was somewhat startled by her strength of character. Her influence on you is the only explanation I have for the change in your behavior."

Now it was Benedict's turn to be astonished. He opened his mouth but, for a moment, nothing came out. Finally, he let out a derisive laugh. "You have far too much time on your hands, Mother. One would think that there would be plenty of other ways to spend your time - ways far more rewarding and profitable - than surmising the impetus behind every one of your son's actions."

Marina had had enough. "Scoff all you wish," she replied, turning toward the door. "Though I do not know why you should value Lady Thalia's opinions above your own mother's –"

"You know exactly why." Benedict's voice was low and hard. He would not allow her to feel sorry for herself.

His mother paused just outside the room. When she turned back to him, there was an unsettling look of triumph in her eyes. Benedict frowned, confused. "At least someone can hold sway over your actions," she finished as if her son had never cut her off. "One might almost say that Lady Thalia has tamed you."

"Watch what you say to me!" Benedict thundered, taking a step toward her.

Marina hesitated. He crossed to her, rage racing through him. "Watch yourself," he growled, watching as trepidation swept over his mother's face. "Now I suggest you leave before you say anything that you might regret," he added, still towering over her.

With a nod, Marina hurried from the room. She had been trying to provoke him, Benedict knew. And, regretfully, she had. But just why she was trying to do it, Benedict had no idea.

Slamming his fist onto the top of his desk, he let out a strangled growl. It had been such a lovely morning. And, with a flick of her wrist, his mother had ruined it.

Not only that, but she had planted a seed of doubt in Benedict's mind. Tamed was not a word any man in his position wanted to hear. Especially not in regard to himself.

Had Lady Thalia truly had such an influence over his actions? If she did, Benedict was merely allowing it because it would win her over and allow him to marry her sister. Right?

But now that he thought about it, he had changed of late. His desire to seduce the ladies at court was somewhat diminished. He no longer felt such pleasure in secreting them away to darkened corners where they might enjoy the pleasures of one another's bodies.

Indeed, in the last month or so, the only woman he had been intimate with was…

Thalia.

Even now as he remembered their encounter, his body longed for another opportunity to be with her. He wanted more this time, wanted all of her. Closing his eyes, Benedict could not help but imagine the feel of her around him, welcoming him into that most secret of places. His desire swelled with surprising vigor.

Shaking his head, Benedict fought his rising passions. Was this all because of her? This change in tastes? This fixation?

No, it wasn't right. This was not him.

Something inside Benedict grew cold. He was not a man to be tamed, not by anyone. And he certainly would not allow anyone to get the impression that he was. If his mother had begun to suspect such a thing, then others might begin to, as well.

This was something Benedict would not allow.

He had lost the thread of his plot. He had been focusing too much on winning Thalia over, in pursuit of his Duchess. Now it was time to secure his claim on Lady Selina. It was time to court the young, beautiful woman whom even his mother agreed would make the perfect match for the roguish duke.

Good . Benedict nodded to himself. He knew what he had to do. The house party would only last a few more days. And in that time, there was work to be done.

But even as the duke left his study, the name that was on his mind, the face which flickered before his, was not that of his future wife, but of her sister.