My Darling Duke

“I knew I might depend on you,” said Kitty, swallowing her nerves.

A few minutes later, they made their way down the long hallway of the west wing. The butler opened a door and allowed Kitty to precede him inside. She gasped, staring at one of the most beautifully decorated chambers she had ever seen.

“The duchess’s apartments,” the butler said from behind. “There is a dressing room, a small sitting room, and an antechamber leading to a larger drawing room.”

She whirled around. “I do not think this is the most…appropriate room.” Her voice sounded so hoarse to her ears. But she could not escape the feeling she should be in this room only with Alexander’s acceptance of her into his life.

Her gaze swung to the connecting door. She walked slowly over to it and grasped the doorknob.

“Does this lead to Alexander’s chamber?”

“Yes.”

She rested her forehead on the cool surface of the oak door. “Does he have any reason to return here within the hour?”

“No, milady. After breaking his fast, he will retire to his treasure room for an hour. Or perhaps to his study to attend to business and estate correspondence.”

There was an odd note in his voice, and she suspected he withheld information from her. She lifted her head from the door and glanced around at him. “Do you believe you could get the duke to his chamber without arousing his suspicions?”

The butler bowed. “I’ll see it done.”

“Thank you,” she murmured, then opened the door and stepped into the cool, partially darkened room of the duke.

Kitty inhaled deeply, breathing in the subtle masculine scent that seemed infused into the fabric of the room. Bright sunshine peeked from between the slits of dark blue drapes, and she ambled over and drew them open, allowing light into the room. Dropping the small valise on the chaise longue by the window, she stared at the bed, recalling the last time she had been in this room, the pain and fear that had been wrapped tightly around her heart.

She walked to the large four-poster bed, with the dark blue and silver curtains billowing around it. Once there, she ran her hand over the softness of the bedsheet, imagining Alexander lying there. Her fingers trembled as she lifted and pressed them to her cheek.

The princess had been explicit with so many instructions, and the most terrifying one was that Kitty would have to take command in a matter she had never experienced before. She would have to present her naked form without blushes or anxiety, rouse his body with touches, entice his mind with artful flirtation.

The bath was prepared, and with the aid of a maid, Kitty was soon freshly scrubbed, her hair brushed in tumbling waves to her mid-back. The maid made no comment as she helped her slip on the sheer peach silk banyan, which clung to her curves shamefully.

“You look right beautiful, miss!” the maid exclaimed, her eyes dancing.

Kitty sensed belowstairs would soon get an earful on her fast and scandalous attire and intentions.

The maid slipped away, and Kitty sauntered over to the cheval mirror in the duke’s dressing room. She stared at her reflection and the provocative picture she presented. Glancing away, she went back into the bedroom and made her way to the bed, where she sat on the edge.

The anticipation was almost unbearable, and so was the anxiety churning low in her stomach. Her curiosity, trepidation, desire to hold him in her arms were aroused to a staggering degree.

Will you allow me to kiss and hold you, Alexander? Or will you push me away once again?

…

Alexander wheeled his bath chair from the breakfast parlor into the main hallway and was startled to almost crash into his flushed manservant. He frowned, noting the glitter in the man’s eyes, the choppy breathing, and a general sense of excitability.

“Are you fevered?”

Oddly, the man smiled. “No, Your Grace. I am quite well, quite well indeed.”

Alexander considered him for a few seconds, absently noting the housekeeper was humming a tune happily beneath her breath as she walked toward the servants’ staircase, searching through a heavy jangle of keys. He could only assume his manservant told everyone he was headed to London and that he had sent word to have the town house made ready for his occupancy. The first such orders in almost seven years.

When he had visited a few weeks ago to claim his Katherine, he had stayed at his good friend George’s home. Opening the town house would send waves of shock and intense speculation through the busybodies of society. It had certainly invigorated his staff, who had been overly morose since Katherine’s departure.

“Are all the arrangements made for travel?”

“Yes, Your Grace. The carriage is ready to depart. And all the luggage has been added to the second coach. Notice has also been sent to Lady Penny and Mr. Collins of your imminent arrival.”

“Good.” He made to wheel around him, and the man stepped into his path. Alexander sent him an inquiring glance.