Chapter 21

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

F rederick found Miss Dowding in her bedroom. The door was left open which allowed him to stand in the doorway for a moment and watch her as she fiddled with something in her wardrobe, back facing him.

This was a bad idea, and he knew it right away. Her dress was backless, tight around the waist, hugging her body and buttocks, and seeming to tempt him personally. He had still not seen her fully unclothed, and the sight of those curves as he tried to picture them released from their confines was enough that he very nearly stormed in, closed the door behind him, and took her without hesitation.

Luckily, she turned before he had the chance.

"Your Grace?" she said, startled by the way he was lurking. A step back, deeper into the wardrobe. "What—what are you doing here?"

His eyes swept over her front, from her sumptuous breasts to her pouty lips, mind still caught on images of her?—

He gave his head a shake. "I was hoping we might talk for a moment."

"Is that a request or a demand?" she shot back.

His jaw clenched, for already she was testing him. "Would it make a difference? From what I know of you, Miss Dowding, you do not take so well to demands."

"A request then?"

"Yes…" A deep breath as he worked to calm himself and concentrate. "A request."

She hesitated, her eyes flicking past him to the empty hallway and then about the room, seeming to realize the situation she was about to put herself in. Obviously, she too was aware of the danger of being alone with him, and a small part of Frederick hoped that she denied him… and if she did that, he might have it in him to accept said denial.

"Of course…" A resigned smile. "Please." She indicated for him to enter the room.

Frederick hesitated, again only too aware of the fragility of being alone with her, but this conversation they were to have needed to remain private, and he could not afford to speak from across the room with the door open where he might be heard.

A final moment's pause. A deep breath. A reminder to himself that control was what was needed here. And then, he stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.

"I wanted to…" The side of his mouth twitched. "… to make it clear that what occurred three days ago—there is no need to dwell on it. I said some things that may have gone too far, you said some things that certainly did, and I believe it would be best if we leave it at that."

"Is that so?" she said plainly.

"It is," he said with a nod of his head, looking past her rather than at her. "These past three days have been more tense than I had hoped, and for the sake of Isabella, it would behoove us to put them behind us and move on. Do you not think?"

She took in his statement, mulled it over, crossed her arms, and scoffed. "Is that your idea of an apology?"

His body stiffened. "I never said that it was."

"No wonder, as it was perhaps the worst apology I have ever heard."

"Again…" he spoke slowly and carefully, "it was not an apology. It was a statement of fact, for what happened between us was?—"

"Yes, yes," she cut him off sharply which only worked to frustrate him. "I was there, remember? I know what happened."

"Then you know an apology is not necessary."

She snorted. "From you? I would not expect one."

"Yet you are still upset."

"I did not say that."

His mouth twitched again, yet still he refrained from looking at her. "When I spoke with my daughter, I was under the impression that she had deliberately disobeyed me. Further to that point, I had assumed that you aided her."

"Both of which were incorrect assumptions."

"Which I had no way of knowing as you, Miss Dowding—and I will remind you of this—lied to me."

"For the sake of your daughter."

"A lie is still a lie," he shot back. "And considering that, I think my actions were perfectly justified. I am sorry if I offended or upset you, but you gave me no cause not to."

"Ha!" she scoffed. "That was almost an apology. I suppose that I should take it."

"I am not—!" His eyes flicked up and met her own, fire in them both, but he caught his tongue and stilled his temper. Another deep breath. "I am not apologizing. I am simply asking that we put that moment and the last few days behind us. For Isabella's sake."

And it was done. Frederick breathed a sigh of relief, for he had done what he needed to do and said what he needed to say. Now, all that was left was for Miss Dowding to accept his words as they were, and he could leave without doing anything rash or… well, dangerous.

He forced himself to look at Miss Dowding, hoping that she might see his desperation and accept it. Surely, she did not want him in this room with her any more than he wanted to be? Acceptance was what he needed to see in her eyes—anything other than that fiery temperament that he yearned for so much.

Her arms were still crossed, her expression set into an angered rictus as she stalked forward and deeper into the room; the way her arms were crossed pushed her breasts up higher, as if she was doing so to purposefully tempt him. Frederick did his best not to look, stealing a quick glance before again looking past her.

"For Isabella's sake, is it?" she asked.

"That is why I am here," he replied. "It will not do for her to see the two of us fighting."

"And you care that much, do you?"

He frowned. "Of course, I do. Everything I do is for Isabella."

"Including hiring a new governess?"

That had his frown deepening, forcing him to look at her for the first real time. She was still angry at him, that was clear. But there was something else there, a look behind her eyes that spoke to how upset she truly was. For all Frederick's assumptions that she had been upset with how he had spoken to her, was it possible that he had been wrong this entire time.

"You are… you are upset that I am replacing you?"

"What? No," she said quickly and dismissively. "I never wished for this role in the first place."

"Yet you are clearly upset that you are being replaced. Even if you do not want this role."

"I—" She moved to argue but caught her tongue. "I know that replacing me makes sense," she said carefully, her eyes looking over his shoulder as if on purpose… likely for a similar reason that he was doing the same thing. "It is just that…" She sighed. "Isabella is turning into a woman."

"I know that…" A smirk. "No thanks to you."

She ignored that. "It has only been a week or so, but I am already seeing her grow before my eyes in a way I never…" She bit back the statement and swallowed. "After you dismissed me, and after I spoke with you, I suppose I just realized how much I am going to miss her when I am gone."

"You are?" Frederick tilted his head, feeling a strange tightening in his chest that for once had nothing to do with attraction.

"Of course, I am," she snapped. "And while I might have made my peace with it, being shouted at by you for reasons that were nobody's fault save your own rush to judgment didn't make it any easier."

Even that rebuke didn't put Frederick on edge like it might have. Still, he could not get past the way she was speaking about his daughter, almost… almost as if she was her mother.

"You really care that much for Isabella?"

"I just said I did!" she snapped again, her anger rising to boil. "You do not listen so well, do you!"

Again, the remark was one that should have set Frederick on edge, had him feeling the desire to respond in kind, even stepping toward her and attempting to intimidate her as he so often did—to remind her that he was in charge here, and she needed to see it. Only…

He could not get past the way she was speaking about his daughter. The love in her eyes, the warmth in her voice, and the hope in her heart. More than a governess. More than temptress. For the first real time, Frederick dared to see her as his grandmother had been so insistent upon him doing.

"I hadn't considered that," he said softly.

She scoffed. "I am not surprised."

"I…" He almost didn't say it. Words that he couldn't recall ever saying before in his life. But with how upset she clearly was, with all that had happened between them, Frederick knew that for once it might not be taken as a sign of weakness. If anything, the opposite was true. "I am sorry."

She baulked. "Excuse me?"

"I am sorry," he said again, stepping further into the room and toward her. No longer avoiding her gaze, he met it instead, hoping that she might see the truth of his words. "I am sorry for shouting at you. I am sorry for not considering how you felt about Isabella. And I am sorry…" He chuckled lightly. "I am sorry for treating you like a stranger in this house when I see now that the opposite is true."

She leaned back, brow furrowed as if searching for the lie. "You are trying to trick me."

"I most certainly am not." He reached where she was standing, forcing himself not to reach out and stroke her arm.

"You are trying to get me to admit to something."

"Is there something you need to admit to?"

"You…" She swallowed as she met his eyes and saw the truth behind them. "You are serious?"

He laughed. "Deadly. Although I ask that you not tell anyone, for I am not in the habit of apologizing."

Her eyes flashed. "Is this your first time ever?"

"It just might be."

The tension that so often surrounded them was still there, only this time it was different. Only this time, they didn't fight it. Alone in Miss Dowding's bedroom, standing mere feet apart, looking into one another's eyes, there was no fight in them, no anger, no efforts to dismiss what was growing between them. Certainly, no awkwardness either.

Miss Dowding dropped her arms, smirked to herself, eyes flicking from his lips to his eyes and back to his lips. He could see her chest growing red, her cheeks flushing, her mind struggling to remain on track… to not go where his mind had already gone.

Frederick had always assumed that his attraction to Miss Dowding was borne from her cantankerous nature, that it was her willingness to fight him that was the cause of his desire and passion for her. But right now, without that heat and fire, still he wanted nothing more than to take her as he had pictured so many times.

Only this time, it didn't feel as wrong as it so often did.

"And what will you give me if I do not?" she asked with a coy smile, a bit of her lower lip, a hungry look in her eyes.

"If you do not…?"

"Tell anyone," she clarified, her voice turning to a throaty whisper. "I cannot imagine it will bode well for you, people finding out how soft you have become."

He chuckled deeply. "Is that a threat, Miss Dowding?"

"A statement of fact," she shot back.

Standing over her, Frederick felt that pull again. That urge to chastise her, to threaten her with the same punishment he had the last time. And how she looked at him in return told him that she was of the same mind. But with how he was feeling, no rage in him, punishment did not feel right.

"So, it is a reward that you are after?" he asked. "For your silence."

She shrugged. "Maybe."

"I am sure I can think of something…" Slowly, carefully, he reached out, his hand moving to her waist. She stepped into it, coming in close, her curvy body pressing into him. "Something that will hopefully convince you to keep this little secret."

"Wh - what did you have in mind?" Still biting her lip, she looked up and met his eyes. The want and desire were in them. Her breathing was heavy and deep and uncontrolled. He could feel the heat coming from her as her body shook.

"Last time…" His other hand moved to her waist so that he was holding her; he squeezed gently, she gasped, and he grinned. "I punished you for speaking out of turn."

"You did."

"This time…" He moved one hand up and rested it under her chin. "… I shall reward you."

"And how shall you?—"

He did not let her finish, moving down quickly and planting a kiss on her lips. She accepted it, breathed it in, melted into it as her lips parted and his tongue dove inside her mouth. The beast within roared its approval, hungry for more, and Frederick promised it flesh and everything else it craved.

Tongue lapping, one hand under her chin, his other moved around and cupped her ample buttocks. Her hands found his waist and held him as she licked and nibbled and devoured his face. Hearts beating. Breathing heavy. For a moment, they kissed in a way that was beyond anger and fire… that was filled with passion and want and spoke volumes to what this truly meant.

Frederick pulled away, eyes flashing. "Your bed. Now."

She frowned coyly. "Giving commands again?"

"Are you questioning me?"

In response, she stepped back, holding his gaze as she sauntered to the bed and sat down. Then, leaning back on her hands, she spread her legs while holding his stare. "Like this?"

He chuckled deeply as he went to her, licking his lips as he fell down to his knees before her. "Just like that…" Hands moving to her thighs, he began to rub them. "Now, about this reward…"

"Yes?"

He held her hungry gaze as his hands gripped the hem of her dress, lifting it up past her calves, over her knees, and up her thighs. They shook and quivered, more so as his fingers lightly traced over them. And when he leaned down and placed a soft, wet kiss on her right thigh, she yelped as if from pain.

"Do you think you are deserving?"

"That depends on how good the reward is."

He chuckled as his hands moved inside her thighs, tracing lightly, fingers stroking deeper and deeper. She was already warm, and he could feel the moisture the further up her thighs he went.

"I suppose we best find out." He licked his lips and held her gaze as his fingers found her wetness. She sucked in, bit down on her lip, and tried her best not to cry out as one finger slipped inside of her.

"You… you will… you will have to do better than that," she sputtered through the moans of pleasure.

He laughed. "If you say so." And then, he dove his head between her thighs.

His tongue found her lips immediately. His lips wrapped around her sex, the button that was already throbbing. So wet. So moist. So sweet. It pulsed and thumped as his lips sucked and sucked and his tongue licked and licked.

Miss Dowding fell backwards. Out the corner of his eyes, he saw her snatch a pillow and hold it over her face to keep herself from screaming. He grinned as he increased his rhythm, making sure to suck and lick and taste to the rhythm that her body shook.

Last time he had done this, Frederick had purposefully denied her. Bringing her to the edge, he had taken pleasure in stopping and leaving her wanting more. This time, he would take just as much pleasure in the opposite.

And as he continued to suck around her lips, a finger inside her now and pressing at the roof of her opening, he could feel it coming. The way her breathing increased. How violently her body shook. Her thighs, quivering until they snapped around his head, and there was no doubt what about to happen.

"Your Grace…" she moaned through the pillow, tossing it across the room. "Urgh! Do not… you must… keep… please!"

His large hands gripped her thighs and held them down as he pleasured her with his tongue. She dripped down his chin. She pushed her pelvis into his face. She cried out, she spasmed, she went stiff, and then she exploded.

"Oh God!!" she cried out so loudly he was certain that the entire house could hear. "Oh my God! Yes! Yes! Yes!"

And all Frederick could do was laugh, taking a little too much pleasure in what he had just done, feeling for the first time not shame or embarrassment or guilt. Rather, he felt vindicated, assured in his actions, a sense that for once he had made the right decision.

But not in making Miss Dowding come as he just had. Rather… finally, he was through pretending that she meant nothing to him. Finally, he was finished denying the truth. Finally, he was beginning to consider if this right here was what he had been waiting for these past twelve years.