Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

“ M y word, Lady Madeleine Gillett, but you look positively breathtaking!”

The voice of Lady Laura Knight interrupted Madeleine’s search for Percy among the throng of the English ton, and she turned to see the young lady who had abandoned her in the park. Madeleine and Percy had arranged to meet at a ball being held by one of her father’s business associates. Percy was supposed to have the first dance, and Madeleine did not wish to be forced to dance with Herbert Mowbray again.

Madeleine smiled politely in gratitude for the compliment. The modiste had designed a lavender gown with a royal blue silk sash to emphasize the empire waist. Silver thread had been used to create vine-like designs across the skirt of the garment, causing it to shine in the flickering candlelight of the ballroom.

Lucy had taken full advantage of the dress’ color scheme and had woven lavender and blue flowers along with silvery ribbons through Madeleine’s hair. She had thought that it would look ridiculous, but when Lucy had finished, the effect was quite enchanting, coronal even.

“As do you,” she returned the compliment, taking in the white fabric and gold details of Lady Knight’s ballgown with approval. “You shine as the sun.”

Lady Knight waved away the compliment in modesty. “Not at all.” She joined Madeleine in scanning the ballroom before them. “Have you heard the latest gossip?”

Madeleine shook her head. “I do not believe so. I have not spoken with anyone since our promenade in the park.”

Laura’s eyes lit up with excitement as she leaned in and whispered into Madeleine’s ear, “People are saying that the Duke of Greyhall is cursed. As you have a romantic attachment to His Grace, I thought it best to tell you with all haste.”

“Cursed?” Madeleine did not like that word used in relation to Percy. It made her uncomfortable. “I had heard whispers at the last ball, but I did not believe it. How is he cursed? He looks healthy and thriving to me.”

Laura shook her head. “It is something about the people nearest to him dying.”

A cold chill washed down Madeleine’s spine.

“He is not responsible for the death of his parents,” she disputed. “I was with him when his mother died. He was not involved. She died in childbirth. His father’s death was from illness. There was nothing more that the Duke of Greyhall could have done to help him. Dr. Moberly was quite clear in his expression of this at the time.”

Laura shrugged her shoulders noncommittally. “Perhaps it is the curse of his mother’s gypsy blood. His grandmother was one of them, you know.” She said the word them as if it was a derogatory term.

“I am aware of the Duke’s lineage and do not believe that simply because his grandmother was of the traveling people that he is cursed. Curses are naught but the nonsensical stories of children and the idle of mind. He cannot help what happened to his parents, no more than any of us could. Besides that, the deaths of two people does not make a curse,” Madeleine insisted. She was surprised by how fiercely she spoke in Percy’s defense.

“There were more than two deaths, my dear Lady Madeleine. He is also responsible for the death of Francis.”

“Francis?” Madeleine’s brow furrowed in question, attempting to remember a person in their circle of friends and acquaintances by that name. “Francis, who?”

A commotion near the entry to the ballroom caused Madeleine to shift her attention away from Laura in time to see the entrance of the tall, handsome form of the Duke of Greyhall himself. Madeleine smiled in relief that he had at last arrived. She turned back to demand that Laura explain herself only to find that the young woman had once again slipped away into the crowd, her hand raised in farewell as she disappeared from sight.

What a peculiar young woman, she silently mused as she wove her way through the crowd to Percy’s side.

“My, my, Monkey,” Percy practically purred, his eyes sweeping down her figure as he took her hand. “You are spring incarnate in this gown. Perhaps I should change your name to Persephone.”

Madeleine’s polite smile dropped into an exasperated frown, and her eyelashes began to flutter as she fought the urge to roll her eyes.

“That is a much, don’t you think?” she said dryly.

Percy, seemingly unbothered by her unpleasant expression, only grinned and asked, “You do not believe me?”

He pressed his hand against his chest as his brow drew down and a pitiful pout formed on his lips.

“I am wounded, Monkey.”

“I do not believe that for a moment,” she retorted.

“It was a compliment.”

“It was an unkind exaggeration,” she bit back, keeping her voice down so others could not hear. “I know what I look like, and the Goddess of Spring and I have naught in common.”

Concern seemed to lace through Percy’s eyes for a moment, but by the time he blinked, it was gone, and he was grinning at her and letting out a chuckle.

“I do love when you are plucky, my little Monkey.”

This time, his voice was laced thick with mockery, and yet it still caused heat to flood into her cheeks. I hate you, she thought and actually smiled at the silent curse.

“That is better,” Percy replied in reference to her smile then added, “I am pleased to see you looking well, Madeleine.” He finally bent down and kissed her hand, the small brush of his lips sending many tiny pulses through her knuckles.

“May I have the first dance?”

“You may,” Madeleine agreed gratefully.

Percy led her out onto the dance floor. He bowed, she curtsied, then the dance began. For as tall and muscular as he was, Percy danced with flawless ease. He moved about the dance floor with a powerful grace that let the viewer know that he was capable of great and swift violence if needed. Madeleine thought back to how swiftly Herbert Mowbray had fled the scene after Percy had warned him off at the last ball. The flicker of fear in Mowbray’s eyes had been real, but Percy had allowed him to maintain his dignity.

“There has been talk abound of us and our courting,” he told her as he began to lead her into a backward step.

“There has?” she asked though she was not sure why she sounded so surprised. Percy nodded.

“Our plan is working, little Monkey. You and I are bound to be free by the time this is over.”

To her surprise, Madeleine instantly rebelled against the thought. Uncomfortable with the sensation it caused within her, she simply pressed her lips together and followed Percy’s lead.

“You dance beautifully,” Percy praised a short moment later. “Gracefully.”

“Must you always jest?” Madeleine hissed at him, her own self-image keeping her from taking the compliment for what it was.

Percy smiled in a way that only fueled her annoyance.

“I jest not, My Lady. I would never jest about something so serious as dancing with a beautiful woman.” There was a sparkle in his eyes, but the look on his face was genuine.

“Thank you,” Madeleine gritted out begrudgingly, accepting the compliment with as much delayed grace as she could manage. “The lessons we took as children have proven to be useful for the both of us it would seem.”

“Is that your way of complimenting my dancing as well?” he teased her.

Madeleine laughed, shaking her head at his lighthearted way of conversing with her. “If it pleases you.”

“It does indeed,” his voice dropped to a more flirtatious tone.

Madeleine could feel the muscles of Percy’s arms rippling through his clothes as he pulled her just a little closer to him through the steps. She flushed at the remembrance of how good it had felt to have those arms wrapped around her body as he kissed her, how it forced her form to melt into his like warm butter. A wave of heat washed over her, causing her extremities to tingle as the memory of those sensations came alive once more in that moment.

As if he could feel her doing so again, he took more liberties as the lead, and in the next step, he went away from the original design of the dance and dipped her head back. As if it were something they had done for years, Madeleine followed him, trusting his arms to make sure that she did not fall or stumble.

Whispers broke out around them as Percy slowly brought her back up. As she met his eyes, she knew he could hear them to. When the dance ended, Percy bowed, placed a possessive hand on the small of her back, maneuvered her over towards the refreshment table, and handed her a drink.

“Are you well?” he asked softly so as not to be overheard. “You are flushed, and your breathing is unsteady. Was the dance too much for you?”

“I am well. A little warm,” she admitted. She averted her gaze so that he would not see the truth of her thoughts in her eyes. “And you should not have done that. I am far bigger than you. You could have dropped me and ended the both of us.”

“I could lift you above my head and keep you there all night if I wished,” Percy purred, his eyes growing dark. “I am no weak boy. Trust me, Monkey. I would never drop you.”

Though he was smirking, his tone was deadly serious, and Madeleine felt her blush grow brighter.

“Perhaps some air?” he offered, louder this time as he swept an arm toward the terrace doors.

Madeleine blinked twice, bringing herself out of her thoughts, and nodded in agreement.

“Air would be lovely,” she managed.

They turned toward the exterior doors leading out to the gardens, only to find Herbert Mowbray standing in their way. “Mowbray,” Percy greeted, an edge of warning to his voice.

“Your Grace,” Herbert returned. He turned his attention back toward Madeleine. “Lady Madeleine, might I have the pleasure of a dance?” He held out his hand expectantly. He gave a furtive glance at Percy with a mix of fear and frustration, as if a much bigger dog had taken his favorite toy from him.

“No, you may not,” Percy answered on her behalf. “Lady Madeleine’s dance card will only bear my name from now on. I am certain that there are other young ladies in attendance who would appreciate your attentions.”

Appreciation flooded through Madeleine as Percy made the possessive claim, letting her former suitor know that not only that he was not getting a dance tonight but not on any other night as well.

Before Mowbray could say another word, Percy took Madeleine’s elbow and led her out onto the veranda. Madeleine breathed in the cool night air.

“Is this better?” he asked, studying her face with concern.

“It is. Thank you,” Madeleine murmured, taking in the scents of the night. “I also wish to thank you for saving me from Lord Mowbray.”

“He is persistent,” Percy acknowledged. “Most men would not dare to ask a woman that I was clearly courting to dance without seeking my consent first.”

“A formidable foe, are you?” Madeleine teased. The memory of his rippling muscles still pulsated through the palms of her hands.

“I can be when needed,” he admitted, moving to lean on the stone railing beside her.

“You two should not be out here alone unchaperoned,” Cecil’s voice interrupted their conversation from the doorway behind them.

Madeleine turned to give her brother a disapproving look. “We are not alone, brother.” She gestured toward the gaggle of lords and ladies admiring the topiary sculptures in the garden below.

“I see,” Cecil looked slightly apologetic for his accusatory tone. “My apologies.”

Percy gave his friend a sardonic look. “Your sister has me to protect her, Cecil. I will not allow anyone to compromise her honor.”

“It is not her honor I am worried about,” Cecil retorted then turned and reentered the ballroom, grumbling under his breath about how true friends do not court their friend’s sisters. “It is unseemly…” His words floated back on the breeze to reach the couple’s ears, making them laugh in secret amusement.

“My dear brother, if only he knew the truth,” Madeleine chuckled in sympathy. “But alas, he cannot know.” She sighed and once more leaned against the railing to drink in the night air. “As I was saying, thank you for rescuing me. Your intervention was as valuable as gold to me. Perhaps I owe you a token of my appreciation. I could have something made as a gift for you.”

Percy chuckled at this with a hint of condescension, and it once more sparked Madeleine’s annoyance. One minute he could be so endearing…the next, she wanted nothing more than to slap him.

“I am one of the richest men here,” he stated bluntly, if not a bit arrogantly. “I want for nothing. A gift is not needed.”

The look of superiority faded in his eyes as his witty smile smoothed into something more sincere before he added, “It was a pleasure to come to your aid, Madeleine. I was happy to help.”

Suddenly, Madeleine wished for him to be sarcastic again. She would gladly take his teasing over the empathy in his voice. It made her chest flutter oddly and caused her palms to sweat and her breath to quicken.

“I feel I owe you something for your efforts on my behalf,” she insisted, wishing to turn the gesture of kindness into some form of exchange. “It cannot only be from the goodness of your heart. I have yet to see signs of this other persistent person of whom you spoke.”

“They are here, somewhere. Do not doubt it,” Percy murmured, taking a slow look around them.

Madeleine could practically feel the tension gathering around Percy as he surveyed their surroundings as if he were a hunting scout. It was not just Mowbrey he was worried about, she realized, nor was it the ton in general. He seemed to be looking for someone specific.

Not liking the way his face was etched with concern, Madeleine decided that she wished to distract him.

“I should like an orange,” she stated matter-of-factly.

She purposely patted the breast pocket on his jacket, letting her old talent take over, and then she clasped her hands in front of herself innocently.

Percy’s gaze snapped back to her as amusement flooded his expression.

“Are we exchanging non-sequiturs?” he mused, looking her up and down as if she had lost her mind.

She ignored his barb, throwing her elbow playfully toward his waist as she began to move toward the terrace steps.

“No, I am giving you a task,” she retorted, throwing him a playful smile. She inclined her head, a motion for him to follow her, and he let out a small chuckle as he obeyed.

“Well, my dear Monkey, I am afraid that this is an impossible task. Oranges are neither in season nor are do they grow in London.”

Madeleine pouted her lips mockingly as she crossed her arms.

“Do you give up so easily now?”

The concern in Percy’s eyes was now completely gone, and in its place was a glittering look of mischief and challenge.

“You still have your sticky little fingers, don’t you?” he teased, his smile wide. “The ones that would steal my pocket watch, kerchiefs, and hats to get back at me for my tricks.”

In response, Madeleine held up the kerchief she had swiped earlier, grinning wide. Percy let out a loud, deep laugh, as if genuinely pleased that she could still pull off her little trick. He reached for his kerchief, and she stepped back, giving it a taunting wave.

“Why you little—” Percy began to say.

But, as his eyes shifted from Madeleine to something behind her, she watched him go back on alert. His stature grew rigid once more as she peered at whatever was behind her.

“Percy,” she said in a low tone, no longer taunting him. “What is it?”

She moved to turn to see what he was looking at, but her shoulders were caught by his hands, and she was dragged into his chest. She gasped at the warmth that quickly enveloped her.

“Truth be told, I would not mind another kiss,” he murmured softly, reaching out to caress a stray curl of her hair.

“I think not,” Madeleine retorted, swatting his hand away. “Once was more than enough for the both of us.”

“Once is never enough when it comes to kisses,” he informed her with a smile, his eyes holding things that Madeleine did not understand. “I could teach you,” he offered, raising an eyebrow in inquiry.

“I said no, Percy; now, tell me what is wrong with you before…” Before Madeleine could say anymore or think of what had just changed between them, Percy grabbed her hand and pulled her back behind a stand of evergreen shrubbery. “What are you doing?” Madeleine demanded to know but was cut short by Percy placing his hand over her mouth.

“The someone that I wish to avoid has come out onto the veranda,” he whispered into her ear, his hot breath warming her through to her innermost core.

Madeleine nodded in understanding. He had just helped her escape from an evening of dancing with Herbert Mowbray. The least that she could do was to stand silently while Percy waited for this unwanted person to pass. The longer that they stood there together, the more aware of his body she became. In order to keep them hidden from sight, he had enfolded them both into the shrubbery. Her breasts were firmly pressed against his chest, her every breath causing sensations to course throughout her body as they rose and fell.

“You are too close,” she whispered in disapproval as much of her own body’s reaction to him as of his actual nearness. She attempted to put some space between them, but with the tree at her back, there was no place for her to go. Moving around only made the situation worse.

“My apologies. It cannot be helped. Most women would enjoy it.”

Madeleine glared up at him, and just as a mocking smile touched his lips, a shuffling near the shrubbery caused his expression to fall flat.

It was too dark for her to see his face clearly, but she could feel his muscles tightening with the tension of the moment. Percy’s hand slipped around her waist, protecting her from sight with his broad shoulders. Madeleine held her breath until the noises ceased.

Lowering his lips to her ear, Percy spoke once more. “Had I known that this was what it took to stop you from slinging insults at me, I would have pushed you into the shrubbery long before now.” He was smirking at her, and Madeleine’s breath was caught in her throat for a moment. “If you are still seeking an orange, perhaps we should stay here. We may not be successful, but I have no doubt that we would find something just as sweet.”

Madeleine gave him a reproving look, trying her hardest to keep her composure. She nudged his leg with her toe in disapproval. “Is the person you wished to avoid still there?”

Percy peered around the evergreen leaves at the veranda beyond. “They are gone, but there are now several people by the doorway to the ballroom that will see us emerge from the bushes. My reputation would withstand the scandal, but yours would not. Your father and brother would insist that I wed you with all haste. If I were to refuse, they would have no choice but to challenge me to a duel.”

“We cannot have that,” Madeleine replied disconcerted at the idea. “I do not wish for you to die, nor have I any desire to wed you.”

“Then you are the only unwed lady of the ton who feels that way,” Percy snorted. “Most women would do almost anything to become the Duchess of Greyhall.”

“It is simply because they do not know you,” she shot back. “They are title hunting and seeking the security that your wealth would bring to their lives.”

Percy shook his head. “There you go again with the insults. Is it your claim that no woman could want me for myself alone?”

“Not if they knew you.” Madeleine knew that she was being cruel, but she was using every tool at her disposal to keep her physical and emotional distance from him. He was temptation incarnate, and she could not allow herself to fall victim to his charms as so many other women clearly had. She knew he was only teasing her with his self-assured charm.

Percy fell completely silent. Madeleine feared that she might have pushed him too far. She could feel his breath upon her face in the dark. He was so close that all she would have needed to do was step slightly on tiptoe to kiss him.

“I am sorry,” she whispered, “I should not have said something so cruel. I…”

As if he had been able to read her mind about kissing him, Percy beat her to it. His lips softly caressed hers, his arms encircling her waist to keep her from falling to the ground. Madeleine could not resist the warm tenderness of his kiss and pressed her lips in passionate reply to his own. Her fingers intertwined with his hair, deepening the contact.

Percy groaned, a primal, deep rumble in his chest that fueled the fire in Madeleine’s blood. She felt empowered, bold, reckless.

“Good God, woman, what are you doing to me?” he growled, reclaiming her lips. His tongue entered her mouth to duel with her own. His hands traveled the length of her torso to cup the underside of her breasts. His thumb gently stroked the nipple, causing it to harden against the fabric of her dress.

Madeleine’s hands tightened into fists in his hair, her chest pressing against his hand for more contact. She needed him closer in a way that she did not fully understand, but her body had a mind of its own, and intuitively, she raised her leg to wind around his waist. Percy groaned louder, pressing himself against the innermost joining of her legs.

Madeleine moaned at the sweet pressure. She knew that what they were doing was considered wrong by society at large outside of the bonds of matrimony, but she did not care. The feel of him against her was driving her wild, mad with a passion that she had never felt before.

Growling, Percy lifted her up and sat her rearend down upon a sturdy branch within one of the larger evergreen trees. Kneeling down, he lifted the skirt of her dress. His head disappeared beneath the lavender fabric, causing Madeleine’s attention to return to their surroundings once again. She yelped in surprise.

“What are you doing?” she gasped in shock.

“Tasting something sweet,” he murmured from beneath the lavender folds. “Just relax and trust me.”

In the next breath, Madeleine felt his tongue parting the shelter of her nether hair as he began lapping at her innermost bud. Gasping in surprise and delight, Madeleine spread her legs apart further to give him better access. It was a brazen thing to do by all accounts, but it was the most natural reaction in the world. Spirals of sheer pleasure coursed through her entire being. She ignored the inner voice of society that said she should make him stop and instead pressed herself against his mouth, urging him to give her more.

The feelings that he created in her body were indescribable. She wound higher and higher as if she might fly up into the sky when suddenly the pressure took flight and soared, launching her over the precipice and exploding into a sea of lights behind her eyes as she came to a climax. Gasping, her breathing ragged, she clung to his head, not willing to give him up until she had ridden the wave to its end.

“My God, woman, but you are magnificent,” he breathed when he emerged out from under her skirts for air. “Sweeter than honey but fierce as a raging forest fire.” Admiration and lust shone from his eyes.

He lowered her down from the branch and helped her to assemble herself for the public eye. A few flowers had fallen from her hair, but not enough that someone should notice. Percy bent down and picked up the fallen flowers, putting them in his pocket so as not to leave any trace of their presence.

“You should not have done that.” She gestured towards her lower person, unable to put what had just transpired into words. “You took a great risk. Someone could have seen us,” she reprimanded him, flushing at the thought of what they had just done.

“You did not seem to mind,” he reminded her. “And no one saw us.” Percy checked to make sure that no one would witness their emerging from the greenery then they stepped out onto the veranda together.

Madeleine could not argue with his logic. “Thank you, Your Grace. It has been a most instructive evening,” she remarked in an attempt to regain her composure. She knew that she must look flushed, and she prayed that no one would notice.

“It has been a most delicious evening,” Percy replied with a smile, bending at the waist to kiss her hand. “I look forward to our next meeting.”

“As do I,” Madeleine murmured softly. “As do I.”