Chapter Sixteen

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

LEVI OVERTON, DUKE OF LENNOX

"Y ou're mistaken, Your Grace," she replied, releasing his arm and backing away, her entire body trembling.

"I'm mistaken regarding my feelings?" He raised his eyebrows. "Are you claiming I don't know my own mind?"

"No, Your Grace." Her wispy voice barely reached his ears. "I meant that I've done nothing… to…"

She flushed, her skin glowing bright pink.

"I'm not accusing you of scheming against me," he said, drawing her into his arms, "I'm admitting that I was wrong when I said any man would be fortunate to marry you."

Jerking against his embrace, she tried to escape, but he tightened his hold.

"What I should have said was, any man would be foolish to lose you." He paused, staring into her wide blue eyes. "And I'm not a fool."

Damn the lies printed in the morning paper!

He leaned forward and touched his mouth to hers, welcoming the blazing fire that singed his lips earlier that day. She sighed, her mouth parting, and his tongue dipped past her lips, drawing a low moan from Miss Rowe, which ricocheted through his body, setting his blood aflame.

He was doomed. Two kisses, three if he counted the one he didn't remember, and his only thought was of seducing Miss Rowe… continually, daily, until neither of them possessed the strength to leave the bed.

Groaning, he walked her backward, his arms sliding beneath her butt. He lifted her, pinning her soft body between the wall and his growing desire. His mouth covered hers, swallowing the soft mewling sound vibrating in her throat.

Lord, it wasn't enough.

He wanted more, needed more, but if he didn't pull away soon, someone would discover them in this compromising position, and he very much doubted Miss Rowe wished to be trapped into marriage, either. Reluctantly, he broke the kiss, pulling away as he lowered her to the floor.

"In all my years of wagers," Levi panted, "that was my favorite prize."

The dying blush exploded across her face again.

"I look forward to our next bet." He raised her hand to his mouth and brushed his lips across her knuckles.

"There will be no more wagers," she replied, pulling her hand from his.

It was as if she slapped him.

"Why?" he asked, taking a step backward. "Do you not enjoy our time together?"

Her eyes flicked to the right, focusing on something on the far end of the corridor, then returned to him.

"Your Grace previously revealed that he holds no intention to marry. And while you can afford the luxury of a scandal, I cannot." She raised her chin. "I won't be pursued for a lark."

"And if it's something more?" He closed the gap between them, fighting the desire to wrap his arms around her again. "If all our interactions have led to an undeniable fondness… what would you say?"

Curling her hands into her chest, she shook her head.

"Your affection is misplaced," she whispered and turned.

He grabbed her elbow. "You cannot deny the connection between us."

"I cannot." She swallowed and glanced down at his hand. "Nor can I encourage it."

Before he could ask for a reason, she jerked her arm from his grasp and hastened down the hallway. He didn't think. He ran after her, catching up when she reached the foyer.

"Stop!" he shouted before she moved toward the parlor. "Miss Rowe, stop, or I will shout loud enough to draw every person in this house to this spot."

Back stiffening, she froze.

"I deserve a reason for your dismissal." His harsh voice rippled across the foyer. "I am a duke."

"I don't deserve your attention, Your Grace." She spun around, tears sliding down her cheeks. "I'm the most horrible person."

He crossed the floor and crushed her to his chest, his arms enveloping her as she buried her face against his chest.

"What terrible thing could you have done?" he asked, stroking his hand down her back.

A knock resounded on the front door.

Levi lifted his narrowed eyes as Miss Webb darted out of the parlor. She skidded to a stop when she spied them, her mouth popping open.

"I-I apologize for the intrusion, Your Grace." She bobbed a quick curtsey, spun around, and hurried back into the parlor.

Miss Rowe sighed and detangled herself from his arms. "I'll need to explain that to Miss Webb and her sister at some point this evening."

"This evening?"

She forced a chuckle. "No matter the outcome of tonight's experiment, the three of us return to my home afterward; Miss Fernsby-Webb will ensure it."

The knock came a second time, more insistent than the first.

"We shouldn't keep your guests waiting." Miss Rowe curtsied, hastened to the door, and flung it open before he could protest.

"Miss Rowe?" Confusion poured across the threshold. "I didn't expect exorcisms to interest you."

He didn't recognize the voice, but Miss Rowe's body twitched as though she were struggling to withhold her true thoughts.

"I have a great many interests, Miss Drummond," Miss Rowe replied, moving aside to reveal Miss Drummond, Miss Venning, Miss Wilmington and her mother, Miss Philbert, and Grisham.

As Miss Rowe ushered the group into the parlor, Grisham lagged behind.

"I found your invitation quite surprising," he said once they were alone.

"Mansfield and Warwick had a second encounter this afternoon," Levi said softly, reluctant to admit the fact aloud. "Mr. Philbert prevented them from transporting Warwick's trunk to Roxburghe's home."

"Intriguing." Grisham's brown eyes slid over the foyer, pausing on a battered chest, then returning to Levi. "I doubt you'll receive many more callers. With little notification, most of the ton is attending the Creasey masquerade."

Levi groaned inwardly. He'd completely forgotten the event.

"Were you not invited?" Levi asked.

"I was," Grisham smirked. "However, I'd rather be here, and my lovely fiancée agreed."

"The absence of six dukes will appear a snub," Levi said, rubbing his forehead with his fingertips.

"We could send Warwick," Grisham replied, indicating the abandoned trunk.

Laughing, Levi strode across the foyer. "Once tonight's adventure becomes public, our folly may be ridiculous enough to earn Mr. Creasey's forgiveness."

"According to Isabel, the wrath we should fear is Mrs. Creasey's, not her husband's." Grisham paused, then grinned. "I maintain we should sacrifice Warwick."

"Let's deal with Mr. Philbert's ghost before instigating a second murder."

Grisham frowned, stopping just outside the parlor door. "Mrs. Creasey won't harm Warwick."

"No, but he might kill you," Levi said, then entered the parlor before Grisham could respond.

The room fell silent, and everyone turned toward Levi.

"Thank you all for coming," he said, offering a short bow. "I realize the missive received this evening may have sounded unbelievable. However, Mr. Philbert's ghost has been witnessed on several occasions by more than one person, and tonight, we're going to evict him."

Miss Venning stepped forward and curtsied. "Your Grace, while we are honored to receive an invitation, I'm curious to know how you expect us to help?"

Odd that she had foregone the Creasey masquerade to attend… Perhaps she'd been unable to secure an invitation for her cousin.

Roxburghe cleared his throat. "Mansfield and I discovered a ritual which may expel Mr. Philbert's spirit. We attempted the exorcism earlier this week, but it failed."

"However, you expect the ceremony to work now?" Miss Venning asked, glancing at him.

"We think the number of voices will add weight to the ritual's effectiveness," Roxburghe said, his gaze flicking to Mansfield as he and Beaufort entered the parlor.

"I've gathered the necessary ingredients," Mansfield said, balancing the stone mortar between his arms.

"Before we begin…" Warwick, seated by the fireplace, thumped his cane on the floor. "I'd like my trunk placed in one of the upstairs chambers."

Gasping, Levi clapped his hand over his chest and staggered backward. "Have you reconsidered your decision to grace me with your delightful personality?"

Warwick scowled. "If you stay, then I stay. We will haunt your manor together."

"Agreed." Levi inclined his head. "Shall we relocate to the ballroom? We'll need more space than the parlor provides."

"Not the conservatory?" Mansfield asked, his forehead wrinkling.

"Can you imagine squeezing all of us into the gazebo?" Levi replied, widening his eyes. "We'd spill over the sides once that concoction in the mortar is lit."

"It is quite pungent," Mansfield snorted, exiting the parlor.

While the party trooped to the ballroom, Grisham and Beaufort transported Warwick's trunk to the upstairs bedroom beside Levi's, then rejoined the group as they formed a loose circle in the center of the ballroom floor.

Mansfield set the mortar in the middle of them and touched the flickering flame of a candlestick to the dried herbs. A burst of heat exploded from the stone bowl, followed by the soft crackling of the ingredients as the fire consumed them.

One long, thin line of light gray smoke twisted toward the ceiling. Setting down the candlestick, Mansfield lifted the black, leather-bound book from the floor and flipped through the pages, searching for the incantation.

"Would everyone join hands?" he said, raising his head and looking around the circle.

Nervous laughter accompanied his request, but each person grasped the hand of their neighbors, closing the circle around Mansfield.

He cleared his throat, then read the first line of the ritual aloud.

Nothing happened.

Frowning, Mansfield read the second line, placing a great deal of inflection on the words. The smoke fluttered as though affected by an unseen force, then resumed its previous swirling pattern. Miss Venning gasped and dropped her hold of Miss Drummond's and Miss Wilmington's hands.

"Don't let go!" Mansfield admonished, his barked command causing Miss Venning to pale.

She nodded, worrying her lower lip, and reclaimed both ladies' hands.

Mansfield read the next few lines in quick succession; however, no other strange event occurred. Glowering at the smoking bowl, he snapped the book closed.

"Did it work?" Warwick asked, breaking the silence.

"There's only one way to know," Mansfield replied, bending and collecting the candlestick. "We need to investigate the house."

A smattering of nervous giggles met his comment.

"We'll divide into three groups." He pointed to his left. "Roxburghe, Miss Webb, her lovely sister, and… Beaufort. Investigate the conservatory, the kitchen, and the servants' quarters."

Beaufort scooted beside Miss Fernsby-Webb and nudged her arm. "You'll protect me from Mr. Philbert, won't you?"

She laughed, the pale color ebbing from her face. "I'm not certain what you expect me to do should that occur."

"Scream and run, dear lady," he said, then winked. "I'll be directly behind you."

"Grisham," Mansfield said with an eye roll, "Miss Philbert, Lennox, and Miss Rowe, would you search the second-floor chambers?"

"That leaves Warwick and I?—"

"Solely you," Warwick said, a flash of pain sliding across his face. "I will wait in the parlor near the fireplace."

"Aren't you frightened?" Miss Venning asked, stepping away from Miss Drummond, who still clutched her hand. "To be alone, that is."

"I've met Mr. Philbert's ghost twice before." Warwick stabbed his cane into the floor. "If he hasn't claimed me by now, I doubt he will."

"Perhaps," Miss Venning said, offering an apologetic smile to her cousin, "someone should wait with you."

Warwick appeared as though he would refuse her, but then he nodded once and held out his arm. "Do you play cards?"

"Only for money," she replied as they strolled from the room.

Once their voices faded, Mansfield stepped forward and extended his arms. "Mrs. Wilmington, Miss Wilmington, and Miss Drummond, we'll examine the remaining rooms on the ground floor."

"Before we begin searching," Levi said, moving beside Mansfield, "I wish to thank you all again for your assistance this evening. I hope you find absolutely nothing."

Everyone laughed, the mirthful sound lifting Levi's spirits.

Was it too much to hope this ridiculous scheme succeeded?

They dispersed throughout the house, and Levi headed upstairs with Grisham, Miss Philbert, and Miss Rowe.

"Does it disturb you?" Miss Rowe asked, keeping pace with Miss Philbert. "To hear them talk of expelling your brother's ghost?"

The corner of Miss Philbert's mouth pulled. "Ellis was a cruel man. While I don't agree with Tabitha's decision to kill him, I can't denounce her for it."

She shuddered, and Grisham was instantly at her side, murmuring in her ear.

He lifted his gaze to Levi. "We need a few minutes."

"Take her into that chamber," Levi said, pointing to the room across from the landing. "It's currently unused."

Miss Rowe gave them a wide berth, waiting until the chamber door closed before saying, "I didn't intend to upset her."

"He knows." Levi sighed, dragging a hand through his hair. "Miss Philbert's brother…"

Miss Rowe held up her hand, stopping him. "She can tell me her story in her own time, if it suits her."

"I'd like to return to our previous discussion," Levi said, offering Miss Rowe his elbow.

"We've had many conversations, Your Grace," she replied, waiting a beat, then accepting his arm. "To which one are you referring?"

"The one where I admitted I wanted to lose ten thousand pounds for the opportunity to court you," he said, leading her down the corridor to the furthest chamber.

His chamber.

"I refused you," she said, her gaze sliding over the damask wallpaper.

"Without reason."

She stopped. "It's too much money."

"For anyone… or for you?" He reached out and cupped her face. "Miss Rowe, I would pay ten times that amount to spend a day in your company. Why can you not accept that someone could love you?"

"Love?" She swallowed. "You don't know me."

"I know there's no other place I desire to be than near you." His thumb slid across her lower lip. "I know that you frequent my dreams and that the only reason I agreed to this inane exorcism attempt was because I assumed you wouldn't visit my house again if you believed it was haunted."

"I would call upon you," she whispered, her eyes dropping to his mouth, "even if Mr. Philbert himself opened the door."

"Then, there's nothing else I want to know." Levi leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers, craving the fire that previously scorched his skin.

Her arms slid around his neck, drawing him closer, and she moaned against his mouth, her lips parting.

Dipping into her warmth, Levi's tongue tangled with hers, drawing another sigh from Miss Rowe. The sound ricocheted through his body, blazing through any remaining logical thought. He lifted her, wrapping her legs around his waist, and pinned her against the wall, grinding himself into her soft center.

A sound caught his attention, drawing him from the seduction of Miss Rowe's mesmeric mouth. They needed to move out of the hallway before someone discovered them.

His hand slid along the wall, seeking his chamber's door handle. Upon locating the cold metal, Levi grasped the carved brass and pushed, then carried Miss Rowe into the chamber and kicked the door closed.

Startled, she broke the kiss. Her body tensed, and her rounded eyes flew around the dim chamber.

Sensing her distress, Levi set her down and stepped away, leaving a chaste distance between them.

"I thought I heard someone in the corridor. Know that you're under no obligation, Miss Rowe?—"

"Helena," she said, twisting her fingers together. "If you're going to kiss me that way, you should at least use my given name."

He inclined his head and gestured to himself. "Levi."

"Not ‘Your Grace?'" A tiny smile cracked her strained visage.

"One doesn't always possess the capability for respectful titles during passionate moments."

"I've not experienced that phenomenon," she replied, her gaze returning to the décor. "Is this your chamber?"

"It is." He gestured at the lavish furnishings. "Since we're in the room, do you see Mr. Philbert?"

Miss Rowe grinned, the tension in her body visibly ebbing. "I do not."

"Excellent," he replied, pointing to the door. "Shall we check the next chamber?"

"Will you kiss me in that room as well?" She sunk her teeth into her lower lip.

"Would you like me to?"

She nodded.

Levi closed the distance between them and crushed her against his body. "I'll kiss you in every room in this house if that's what you desire."

His mouth descended, his tongue pushing past her lips and demanding her breath. Clinging to him, she moaned, melting into his embrace, and he lifted her again, trapping her body between his erection and the door.

"I want to touch you," he ground out, his mouth moving across her throat. "May I?"

"Mmm," she replied, her head tilting backward.

Gathering her skirt, he folded the material over her thighs, exposing her upper legs. His fingers slid over her skin, inching toward her center. She jerked.

"I'm not going to ruin you," he murmured against her lips. "But I will make you yell my name."

She didn't move, her blue eyes locking on him as though she were trying to determine if he spoke the truth.

"I trust you," she said.

He captured her lips, reigniting the passion between them. Then, glacially, he slipped his hand between her legs, his fingers moving toward her apex. Without warning her, he stroked the tip of one finger over her center, and she cried out, breaking the kiss.

Her eyes widened.

Nodding once, he skimmed his finger across her nub again, and her grip on his shoulders tightened. Levi continued his slow pace, moving his fingers back and forth as her hips adopted the same rhythm. Her rocking intensified, her breath coming in short gasps. Levi covered her mouth with his as she orgasmed, thrashing against him.

Once she stopped trembling, he withdrew his hand and set her feet back on the floor.

"I didn't manage to say your name," she said, panting.

"You can try again."

Miss Rowe blushed a deep red. "Again?"

"Yes." He offered her a jaunty bow. "Did you not ask me to kiss you in the room next to this one?"

"That was more than a kiss."

"It started as one." He grinned, placed his hand on the door handle, then froze, terror squeezing his heart. "Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?" Miss Rowe asked, a deep frown appearing on her forehead.

"Footsteps." He yanked open the door and peered into the empty hallway. "It sounded as though someone was running down the corridor."