Chapter Twenty-One

A plot began to form in Effie's head, the speed of the scheme so rapid that it almost frightened her. Her mother was unique in that she rotated when house servants were given time off. Effie counted upon the Dowager Duchess of Waterbury being more traditional in the schedule she followed regarding her staff.

They reached James' townhouse, and she said, "I am certain Mama would like to see you, Your Grace. Perhaps you might go and find her, Captain, and let her know we are home."

As they left the carriage, her stepfather said, "I will do that very thing, and then I plan to return to Neptune Shipping. Go to the drawing room, and I will have Dinah meet you there."

She began leading the duke up the stairs and as they turned at the first landing, Effie asked, "When are your household servants given time off?"

The question seemed to startle him, and she saw him thinking for a moment.

"Once a month, they receive the last Sunday afternoon of the month. And then every third Wednesday afternoon, as well. Why on earth do you wish to know that?"

"Because I am ready to explore more of what we did in the conservatory," she said boldly. "I want to know all of it. All of you."

The duke stopped on the stairs, looking thunderstruck. "Are you saying what I think you are saying, Effie?"

Her courage wavered, but she nodded with false confidence. "Yes. Mama has always rotated when our servants are given free time, and Sophie has kept to that routine. That means we would never have a chance to be alone here. I am asking if you would allow me to come to your townhouse instead to spend time alone with you."

Without waiting for his reply, she continued up the stairs and hurried to the drawing room. When they reached it, they went inside, Waterbury closing the door behind them, taking her hands in his.

"This is a big step, Effie. One which people make—"

"Do not speak of such things now, Your Grace," she begged. "I just want to enjoy being with you. Can you allow that?"

Hot desire flooded his eyes, and she knew he would not be able to turn down her request.

"Just because the servants will be gone, it does not mean Mama and Ada will be. They will be in the midst of morning calls, with suitors coming and going."

She smiled, having already looked at the schedule to see what she had to endure for the next week.

"Wednesday, a garden party is being held. Tell your mother a sudden business matter has arisen. One which you must tend to immediately. Your mother can take your sister to the garden party."

"And you?"

"It will be easy to convince James and Sophie to go into their respective offices. I can tell Mama I need a respite from the whirl of social activities. That will not surprise her. It will give her a chance to go and visit one of my sisters. The captain will either be with Mama or he, too, will go into the shipping offices."

"How are you to get to my townhouse?" he asked.

She thought a moment. "At the last minute, I can say that Lady Ada has begged me to go to this garden party with her. That she believes Lord Ashmore might offer for her at it, and she needs my support. Your carriage could call for me. Your mother's presence would be sufficient to protect my reputation. As it is, Mama might not even be home. You could come in and retrieve me as you have before, and our footman would assume the others are waiting in the carriage."

He leaned in and kissed her softly. "Who knew such a devious mind lurked behind such an angelic front? All right. I agree to this scheme of yours. But afterward, Effie, we must talk."

"Of course," she reassured him. She knew they would need to do so.

It simply wouldn't be the talk Waterbury expected.

*

Things had gone better than Effie had hoped. James and Sophie seemed relieved when she spoke of not attending the garden party. Mama had said they could go to Pippa's instead. Several of her relatives were gathering at the Hopewell townhouse that afternoon.

That was what had hurt most this Season. Effie had been thrilled her entire family would be in town for the spring and summer, and she thought she would see them daily. Instead, her sisters and cousins only attended events sporadically. When they did, she did not get to talk hardly at all to them because she was too busy meeting others and spending her time with eligible bachelors. She had yet to sup with anyone in her family, while they continually dined with one another.

Instead of having to be home for morning calls, as she did to engage with her suitors, her family visited with one another each day. Shopping. Having tea. Holding dinner parties. She had not been excluded on purpose. They simply knew from their own experiences how busy she was and how little time she had to devote to family.

Effie agreed to go with Mama to Pippa's, and then that morning, she went and found her mother in her sitting room.

"I do not mean to interrupt your letter writing, Mama, but my plans have changed. You will need to go to Pippa's without me."

"What?" her mother asked. "Have you changed your mind about attending the garden party? If so, I am happy to accompany you to it."

"That is not necessary. You already have plans with Pippa. I simply received a note from Lady Ada a few minutes ago. She believes Lord Ashmore might offer for her this afternoon, and she would like my company. She already knew you and I was not attending the garden party this afternoon, but she said the dowager duchess is more than happy to chaperone me at the event."

She watched as her mother contemplated things, hoping Mama would not change her plans. As it was, it was already hurting her to lie to her mother, something she had never done before.

"I think it is important for you to go and support your friend, Effie. The dowager duchess is an appropriate chaperone for you. You do realize arriving at the event with her and His Grace might cause a bit of gossip, however."

She shrugged. "I know others are already linking our names together," she said neutrally.

"How do you feel about that? How do you feel about him?" Mama pressed.

"Can we speak of this later?" she pleaded. "I have some thinking I must do regarding His Grace."

"Of course," Mama said swiftly. "I do not wish for you to rush into anything."

Guilt flooded her. If only her mother knew what she was up to. Mama would be appalled at her licentious behavior. Excusing herself, she returned to her room.

At the appointment time she and Waterbury had agreed upon, Effie went downstairs and found him entering the house.

"Good afternoon, Your Grace," she said pleasantly.

"Good afternoon, Lady Effie. Thank you for agreeing to attend the garden party with my mother and sister."

For the sake of the footman standing nearby, she said, "I cannot wait to see Lady Ada's gown. She told me she is most pleased with it."

"She and Mama are waiting in the carriage for us." He offered his arm. "Shall we go?"

He escorted her to the carriage and handed her up.

Inside the vehicle, she said, "I noticed you had no footman with you. And it did not look to be your usual driver at the reins. In fact, this is not the coach you usually use."

"No, I left that driver and vehicle with Mama to use. This driver is the son of my usual coachman."

"You do not think he will say anything to his parents?"

"No. I told him that I wanted him to gain experience in driving and that he is free to take the carriage through the streets for an hour after he drops me at home."

Effie wondered if that was how long it might take. An hour for them to couple. Nerves flitted through her, and suddenly her wild hare of an idea did not seem appropriate at all. Still, they had both gone to great lengths to pull off this clandestine meeting. She would follow through, knowing she would hurt him when things ended this afternoon, but she told herself it would be for the best. Effie would make certain she broke all ties between them. The duke would be clear that he needed to find a more appropriate woman to become his duchess.

As for herself, it would hurt her to see him with others throughout the remainder of the Season. It was necessary, though, because she owed it to Mama to finish out her debut. Effie's heart told her she would never love anyone the way she did the man seated beside her. But as much as she did love him, she wanted what was best for him. It was not her.

It would never be her.

They reached his townhouse, and the carriage halted. The duke helped her down, and they entered through the front door, the coachman driving away. No one would see them. The pavement was deserted. His neighbors would all be at the garden party, the first of the Season.

Her heart beat faster and the blood rushed to her ears when they entered his ducal rooms. She began to tremble, the thought of what they were doing overwhelming her as he closed and locked the door behind them.

He turned to her, enveloping Effie in his arms. She inhaled the now-familiar spice of his cologne and gave herself over to the warmth she craved. She would miss this.

She would miss him.

Waterbury led her through the outer room and into his bedchamber, which was dominated by a large bed. The room was flooded with sunlight.

"Are you going to draw the curtains?" she asked.

He cupped her cheek, his thumb caressing it. "No, love. I want to see all of you."

Her gut twisted. She almost called the entire thing off. Then his mouth came down on hers, and she lost herself in his kiss. The kisses they exchanged were like fire. Burning her. Branding her as his.

He broke the kiss, saying, "I do not wish to rush our time together. Know that when I undress you in the future, I will take my time."

Her throat thickened with emotion. There would be no next time. No future for them. Effie blinked away the tears forming in her eyes, allowing him to quickly disrobe her. He placed each layer neatly over the back of a nearby chair.

When she stood before him, naked, she thought she might have been self-conscious, but the admiring look in his eyes once again allowed her to feel her feminine power.

"You are... breathtaking," he said hoarsely, kissing her again, and then moving away, quickly stripping off his own clothes until he, too, was bare.

Her eyes swept over his lean, but muscular body, so very different from hers. She reached out a hand and stroked his chest, seeing his eyes close, much as Daffy's did when Effie petted her cat. Waterbury would laugh if she compared him to Daffy, and so she kept quiet.

His arms went about her, and his hands began to roam her back, dropping to her bottom.

Squeezing it, he said, "You have the most deliciously rounded derriere, Effie Strong."

Trying to keep things light between them, she said pertly, "Why, thank you, Your Grace."

His gaze held hers. "Do not call me that again," he cautioned. "Within these walls, I am Malcolm."

She had not known his given name and thought it suited him.

"Malcolm," she echoed, liking how it sounded as she spoke it. Liking the feel of him against her. "Kiss me," she urged.

His kisses enthralled her. His touch bewitched her. All the while, his hands caressed her body lovingly. He guided her toward the bed and released her a moment, tossing back the bedclothes, and then easing her onto the mattress.

Malcolm proceeded to worship her body. He kissed every part of her. Effie never knew the inside of her elbow or the back of her knees could be so sensitive. He fondled her breasts, toying with her nipples. His tongue flicked back and forth against one nipple until it stood taut, aching. He licked and sucked her breasts until that same, wonderful feeling she had experienced in the conservatory engulfed her, shattering her.

He looked down upon her with such tenderness that her eyes misted with tears. She did not want to hurt him. She had been wrong to come here and steal such precious moments from him.

Before she could speak and bring things to a halt, he kissed her again. The magic of that kiss swept away her misgivings. His body now hovered over hers, and he broke the kiss.

"Thank you," he said softly. "For giving yourself to me."

Then he kissed her again, and she felt something hard pressing against her between her legs. He thrust into her deeply, and Effie gasped at how full she felt. How complete she was in this moment. Then he slowly withdrew and pushed into her again, the feeling wonderful.

He moved in and out of her, kissing her, caressing her breasts, stroking her hips, until she felt ready to ride the crest of the miraculous wave once again. She writhed beneath him, calling his name as he moved in and out of her, trying to commit these few moments to memory, knowing she would never experience them again with Malcolm. Or any other man.

Suddenly, he withdrew from her, turning away and reaching for a handkerchief on the bedside table. She heard him groan deeply and then understood he spilled his seed into the cloth and not her. Effie supposed she should be grateful no child had been created from this coupling, and yet she would have given anything to bear it. To have a piece of him always.

He turned toward her and kissed her again, almost reverently, and then said, "We must get you home."

Malcolm instructed her to stay where she was as he retrieved a basin and washcloth. He bathed her where they had joined together, the act tender and intimate, causing her throat to swell with unshed tears. Then he dried her and helped her rise from the bed, where he dressed her carefully.

"You might wish to secure a few of your pins," he advised, and she went to the mirror as he dressed.

Once her hair was in place, he laced his fingers through hers and led her downstairs.

"I have a gift for you," he said, taking her into his study, to his desk.

He released her hand and frowned, lifting papers and pushing them around. "It was here. I know it was." He paused. "Ada. I told her what I had gotten you. I forgot I took it to her in the drawing room. Give me a moment to retrieve it."

Malcolm strode from the study, and Effie looked about, seeing the room that he spent so much of his time in. Then she couldn't help herself. He had left a mess at his desk. Caleb had always taught her to keep a neat desk so that anything could be found easily. The least she could do would be to stack the papers he had combed through.

Coming around behind the desk, she began straightening them, placing them in neat stacks. Then the title of one page caught her eye.

The Duke's Guide to Winning a Lady's Hand .

Frowning, she lifted the page and began reading. Horror filled her.

It was as if Malcolm had followed everything written down with the time he spent with her. He had given her genuine compliments, unlike other gentlemen of the ton . He had kept close to her at events and asked to see her again. In their conversations, he had been an attentive listener, asking thoughtful questions and never interrupting her. He had touched her, small touches, which caused her to hunger for him. He had asked her thoughts about estate matters and told her he would follow her advice. He had even taken her to what the guide said must be somewhere creative. That had been the outing to Tattersall's yesterday.

One thing he had not checked off this list was to present an unusual gift. Even now, he was on his way to retrieve it for her. Hurt filled her, knowing he had not responded to her as himself but as these awful guidelines told him he must be. He had looked upon her as a project to complete, and she had thought all along he was so different from other gentlemen within the ton . Everything that had happened between them had been false. That is what hurt the most.

She came from behind the desk, the pages in hand, her anger building. Effie would confront him and be done with him.

He entered the room. "Here it is. An atlas. What I would have presented to you had you won our race in Hyde Park. Ada wished to see where Ipswich is. Ashmore's country estate is there." He paused, frowning. "Effie? What is wrong?"

"This," she said, raising the pages she had just skimmed. "Your... guide. I am surprised you did not check off each item from your bloody list as you accomplished them."

He had gone still. "Effie," he said, his voice low. "It is not what you think."

"Oh, it isn't?" she asked, her tone brittle. Glancing to the list, she began reading each item, seeing him wince as she did so.

"Stop," he begged. "They were only trying to help me. I told them what you meant to me, and I was afraid because you had said you did not wish to wed that I would never have a chance with you."

"Who is they ?" she demanded.

He flushed. "No one."

"Tell me," she said, her voice low. "Tell me now. You owe me that much, Your Grace."

"Your brother and brothers-in-law," he said, his reluctance obvious. "They came up with suggestions and wrote them down for me to follow. But I was already doing much of what they recommended, Effie. Being with you, I—"

"My family. They are the ones who did this?" she asked, her voice rising with hysteria. Her thoughts swirled, thinking how her own family had betrayed her.

"They meant well. They want what is best for you."

" I decide what is best for me," she shouted at him, banging her fist against her chest. " I make my own choices."

Effie threw the pages at him, and they fluttered to the floor. A hurt deep inside filled her. Her own family had turned on her. Schemed to marry her off to a bloody duke.

"I never want to speak to you again," she said, meeting his gaze, seeing the hurt in his eyes.

She crossed the room and almost made it to the door. Then he grabbed her shoulders and spun her around.

"You don't mean it," he said, panic in his voice.

He tried to kiss her, but she turned her head.

"Release me, Waterbury. Now. I wish to leave."

His hands fell from her shoulders. The duke dropped to his knees and grabbed her hands, saying, "Forgive me."

"No," she said coldly. "You are like all the other men. I never wanted a Season. I only did so to please Mama and be able to come to town and see my sisters and cousins. This has been the worst time of my life. I will never come to town again."

Jerking her hands from his, she said, "Do not approach me or anyone in my family, Your Grace. I hope you can use your bloody rules to find some emptyheaded girl who will hang on your every word. Someone who longs to be a stupid duchess. It certainly is not what I want."

She hurried from the room. He caught up to her in the foyer, clasping her elbow. She shrugged him off.

"At least let me have my driver take you home, Effie."

She glared at him. "I want nothing more to do with you, Your Grace. I can walk a few blocks home by myself. The streets of Mayfair are safe. And if anyone happens to leave the garden party early and sees me out alone? I simply do not care. Polite Society can say whatever they wish about me. They can rot in hell, for all I care."

Effie opened the heavy front door and set out, wishing she wore her breeches and boots to make walking easier. She went a block and turned left. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Malcolm following her at a distance. At least he was gentleman enough to see she arrived home safely.

When she reached James' townhouse, she went inside and told Powell she needed water heated for a bath. She wanted to wash every trace of the duke from her.

And purge him from her heart.