Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

T he morning, sun-kissed with dew and crisp air, might have been splendid, had Amelia not been hiding in her bedchamber throughout the most of it. She rose shortly after dawn, her restless thoughts driving her from any meaningful sleep. Memories of the previous evening's ball danced endlessly in her mind.

The rumor mill would surely be in full swing by now, she thought ruefully, picking at what was left of her early breakfast. She had little appetite and had been mustering the urge to eat for the past hour. Now the food had long since grown cold and would only serve to make her feel worse.

Still, she continued to pick at it, sighing at the state of her situation. What had felt like an ingenious scheme the night before, now felt like a blunder of the highest order. Any moment now her aunt and uncle would come bursting in here to lecture her about how badly she'd marred their name. And she couldn't blame them. Did she truly think that she could make demands of the Duke of Stanhope?

I must have gone mad!

She sighed and pushed the tray of untouched food aside. Though she was tired of remaining in her bedchamber, she was far too afraid to venture outside of its comforting walls too. She'd rarely ever seen her uncle upset but knew very well that he had a fearsome temper. And Barbara? She would certainly jump at any chance to ridicule and degrade her.

If only the Duke had just agreed to her demands. Surely he understood the position they were both now trapped in? After all, she hadn't been the only one to act indecently. He was the one who tried to seduce her, who had cornered her on the balcony in the first place. Yes, perhaps it had been a case of mistaken identity, but that did not absolve him of his share of the blame.

Subconsciously, Amelia touched her lips, recalling the phantom sensation of the Duke's kiss. A deep, uncharted desire awakened in her core. Her legs tensed with an unusual longing. She squirmed a little when she thought of how deliciously he'd tasted, the press of his hard body against hers, and the shiver of pure desire when his heated breath teased her neck. Even with fury clouding his eyes, the Duke embodied something Amelia had never experienced before… and was fearful to explore. But he was the Masked Rogue. Was it wrong to be thinking such thoughts of the man who ruined her family?

Suddenly, the door creaked open, snapping her from her heated thoughts. Amelia gasped as she shot out of her chair, whirling with bated breath, half-expecting to see the Duke's smoldering gaze before her.

But… wait. It was the Duke of Stanhope?

Amelia rubbed her eyes. She was surely imagining things. He looked… glorious. Clad in a pair of deep-hued breeches, an immaculate white shirt, and a tailored blue waistcoat to match his eyes, it seemed almost criminal how his mere presence could make her feel so weak. She clenched the fabric of her gown, taking in the devilish expression on his face, heat seeping through her body when he slowly but deliberately shut the door behind him.

"You are not real," she whispered, eyes wide in astonishment.

The Duke frowned. Then, his lips slipped into one of a boyish grin. " Good day to you too , Lady Amelia," he greeted. "But, I assure you, I am." His deep voice washed over her, and gooseflesh dotted her skin.

"H-how did you get in here?" she managed to stammer, despising the fear in her voice. She resented him for the wrongs he had inflicted upon her family; she shouldn't give him the honor of fearing him too.

Yet, as he tilted his head to the side, regarding her calmly, Amelia wondered how much was truly fear. "Your Aunt and Uncle, ever the gracious hosts, were more than happy to accept me. From there, I merely mentioned needing to visit the restroom, gave the servant a slip… and lo' and behold!" His hands clapped together, punctuated by a roguish smile.

"You need to leave. You can't be here. It is wholly inappropriate!" she whispered sharply.

"Inappropriate?" the Duke echoed louder. Amelia winced, afraid someone might have heard him. "I think we are far past propriety, don't you?"

Amelia didn't know what to say to that. He moved deeper into the bedchamber, his hands clasped behind his back as he took in his surroundings. There was something about the way his eyes eventually lingered on her disheveled bed that made her toes curl.

With each measured stride he took, Amelia was well aware he was artfully closing the distance between them. She tried to stand firm as best she could, fighting the foolish urge to confront him and the equal urge to recreate the distance between them.

"What do you want?" she hissed, her tone laced with enough bite to make him raise his brows at her.

"Surely you know what I am here for," the Duke drawled. "Or have you forgotten the ultimatum you so strongly forced on me last night?"

"I thought you had decided to reject me."

"On the contrary, my lady, I am here to let you know that I have given it much thought and I believe it is the correct course of action to take."

Amelia narrowed her eyes. "So you've had a change of heart?"

"That I have." He was coming closer still. Unable to help it, Amelia began backing up until she was almost pinned against the wall. He stopped just a few feet away from her, eyes dancing with an emotion she could not name. "Does the offer still stand?"

She swallowed. Something was off. But because she couldn't read his true intentions, only her earlier desperation answered. "It does."

"Ah, lovely. Because I haven't been able to get you out of my mind, my lady. I was afraid that I might have scared you off last night."

If he drew even a fraction nearer, Amelia was sure he'd hear the frantic rhythm of her heart. "You didn't," she assured softly.

"Good. For I do not wish to see fear in your eyes when you look upon me," he replied, his tone dripping with liquid ice. "Rather, there is another emotion I'd like to see. Something that makes me think this marriage will be nothing short of… exhilarating."

With one step, the Duke had drawn so intoxicatingly close, that the waft of his powerful Cedarwood aroma began to overwhelm her. Amelia licked her lips, savoring its taste. "And what might that be?" she breathed.

Leaning in, he gently swept a wayward tendril of hair from her neckline, unveiling the sensitive expanse of her throat. His thumb lingered there, tracing a feather-light path along her skin. An involuntary shudder ran through her at that touch.

"Lust," he whispered, his breath hot against her ear. "I enjoy when you look at me with desire in your eyes."

"I have never done such a thing," Amelia denied, though her breathy voice betrayed her.

He chuckled, a sound rich with mirth. "Oh, but you have. And it's haunted my thoughts since last we met. So much so that I've already sent for a special license."

Amelia's eyes widened in disbelief. "B-but you haven't even sought my uncle's blessing!"

"A simple matter." He seemed more concerned with touching her hair, toying with her silken locks, occasionally letting them slip through his fingers only to brush them back from her face. Amelia was certain that she was as red as a tomato. "True, I may have skipped certain… formalities. But I simply could not wait for…"

"…For what?"

He captured her gaze again, another devilish smirk touching his lips. "Our wedding night."

Amelia's breath caught, and she tried to swallow past the sudden tightness in her throat. "Your Grace—"

He interrupted her with a frown, his fingers caressing her cheek, "I would much prefer if you called me Gideon . We will soon be man and wife, after all. Let us do away with these formalities."

"Your Grace—" she tried again, but her voice faltered as his lips hovered temptingly near her ear.

"I do wonder what you will sound like on that night, Amelia," he murmured huskily. "Will you finally cry out my name then?"

"T-this is highly improper," she whispered, her body so hot that she thought she might burst into flames.

"If you think this is improper, my dear, just wait until you are truly and wholly mine."

Gideon cupped her chin, compelling her to meet his gaze. Which didn't take much since Amelia felt like a puppet on his strings, acting without thinking on urges she'd never thought were possible. She detested this man, despised every fiber of his being. But right now, she couldn't find any of that hatred. It was buried under layers of need and her eyes dipped to his lips. His smirk grew wider.

She braced herself, certain he was about to claim her lips. But a sharp stab of disappointment lanced her when there was a knock on the door. Amelia thought he would pull away but he remained where he was, still holding her chin, clearly content to ignore whomever it was.

But the knock was enough to snap her out of whatever trance she'd fallen into and she shimmied out of the gap from between his hard body and the wall. She dabbed at her cheeks as she hurried away, hoping it would hide the blush.

Amelia's hand closed around the door handle when she realized that Gideon was still very much visible. She shot him a glance. "Hide!" she hissed.

Gideon raised his brows innocently, pointing at himself. "Me?" he mouthed.

Amelia couldn't believe what she was seeing. Surely he didn't think she could open the door to reveal a gentleman in her chambers? She gave him an incredulous nod and he chuckled, raising his hands in defeat. She didn't take his eyes off him as he made his way over to her and positioned himself beside the door, where he would be obscured from view when it opened.

Praying he would not do anything to reveal his presence, Amelia opened the door at last. But the last person she wished to see stood on the other end.

"I hear the Duke of Stanhope has come to visit," Nadine stated in a pinched voice, dressed in an elaborate sea-green attire that had clearly taken much effort to assemble. She folded her arms, managing to sound both accusing and smug.

"Oh? Is that so?" Amelia answered. "I did not know. I have not left my chambers all morning."

"Apparently, he's here for you," Nadine pressed, her eyes narrowing.

"For me?" Amelia pointed a finger against her chest, feigning shock.

"Oh, don't play innocent. Everyone and their pets are speaking of your little rendezvous with him at last night's ball. Tell me, Amelia, did you follow him out there?"

"I really have no idea what you're talking about." Growing frustrated, Amelia asked, "Is this why you've come here?"

Nadine raised her chin, doing a marvelous job of glaring down at Amelia even though they were the same height. "Mother has asked that I fetch you. Apparently, His Grace will be staying for tea."

"Very well. I shall be down shortly." Amelia attempted to shut the door but Nadine's hand shot out, preventing her from doing so. With all the patience she could muster, she opened it again slightly. "Is there anything else?"

Nadine narrowed her eyes again, looking Amelia up and down. Then she finally said, "It's nothing. Be down in five minutes."

With a flounce, she turned and retreated down the corridor. Amelia sighed, shoving aside her annoyance. It was obvious that Nadine only wanted to have the last word.

She closed the door—and nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw how close Gideon had moved to her.

"You look even more beautiful when you're blushing," he commented, mischief glinting in his eyes. "You heard her. Be down in five minutes. Don't keep your lover waiting, now ."

He didn't give her a chance to respond. He brushed her chin again, winked, and was out the door a second later. Amelia didn't move a muscle. His touch lingered on her skin.

Then she released the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding and fell backward against the door. It might not have been a good idea to let him leave without checking that Nadine was gone first but Amelia had other things to worry about right now.

Like whether or not she might have acted a little hastily with her demands.

At least I will soon get my hands on my inheritance.

That was the only silver lining in all of this, enough to make her pull herself together and prepare for what was ahead of her. Right now, she still held reservations about tying her fate to the Duke, especially considering the fact that he'd already made it clear what he wanted from her. But she only needed to hold out until a month's time, didn't she? After that, she could seek annulment and she would be free to live the rest of her life in peace, knowing that her sister was safe from that cruel Earl.

They could have a small cottage together in the countryside, far from the treacherous games of high society and the men who were constantly out to ruin their lives. Even though they'd likely be shunned by the ton, Amelia would be content as long as she and Dorothy were safe and happy. Yes. She simply needed to focus on that vision, and perhaps then she'd be able to get through this marriage.

Gathering her strength, Amelia took a deep breath, the scent of the lingering Cedarwood aroma mingling with her lavender, and calming her racing heart. Try as he might, she wouldn't let the Masked Rogue deter her from her mission.