Chapter Sixteen
I would be a fool to lose my heart to him, but I am tempted more each day.
—Roslyn to Fanny
In sharp contrast to her icy meeting with the Duchess of Arden, Roslyn found the lovely summer afternoon particularly pleasurable, riding with Drew over the Kentish countryside, viewing his beautiful estate grounds and tenant farms.
He put himself out to be the perfect companion, even more agreeable and charming than usual. And yet she noticed a distinct change in him. He seemed less guarded now. Less practiced. More at ease. More natural.
And she saw a different side of Drew than she’d ever seen before—the serious, responsible, generous side. He took unmistakable pride in his holdings and obviously cared for his tenants, unlike many great landowners in England, who cared only about bleeding the land and laborers for whatever revenues they could provide.
As a duke, Drew commanded respect and took it as his due, yet there was clearly a measure of affection between him and his people. But then, Roslyn had expected as much after seeing him with Mathers. The way he cared for his old governess had warmed her heart.
Toward the end of their ride, she learned why he was so fond of the elderly upper-class servant.
They were riding beside a small lake in a meadow when they came to a cottage on the edge of a wood and Drew reined his horse to a halt.
“This was my favorite place as a child,” he said a little wistfully. “This cottage belonged to our gamekeeper and his wife. Mathers would bring me here to escape the schoolroom. We would make paper sailboats and float them on the lake and play pirate. Afterward she plied me with hot scones baked by the gamekeeper’s wife.”
In other words, you were allowed to be a child, Roslyn thought with silent empathy. “It must have been lonely living here as a young boy,” she said aloud.
He shrugged. “I rarely saw my parents. And of course I wasn’t allowed to associate with other children—certainly not the staff’s children, since we had our consequence to uphold. But Mathers made it bearable. And after I met Marcus and Heath at school, I was never lonely.” Drew shot her a wry glance. “But you can see why I was glad to leave here.”
“Indeed I can.”
She would have been glad to leave, too, Roslyn thought with a shudder. The huge house, though magnificent, was cold and intimidating, devoid of life and warmth. She couldn’t imagine living in such a house.
Thankfully her own upbringing had been quite different from Drew’s. For the first eighteen years of her life she’d had the love of her mother and her sisters, and her father to some extent. Now she had her academy and her friends to provide mutual warmth and affection, in addition to her sisters.
Her own mother was very different from Drew’s, as well. Even though Victoria Loring was a noblewoman in her own right, she had sincerely loved her daughters. Thanks to Marcus, they had recently been reunited with Victoria and learned the truth about why she’d been forced to flee the country with her lover. She hadn’t wanted to abandon her daughters, and in fact grieved over it.
But clearly the Duchess of Arden bore little love for her son. Instead, Mathers had taken the place of Drew’s mother.
Roslyn was glad that he’d had someone to love him when he was such a young child, and disliked the duchess intensely for the emotional barrenness she’d inflicted upon him.
Imagining Drew’s loneliness as a boy—and seeing his strained maternal relationship now—brought out Roslyn’s protective instincts. Which was absurd, since Drew was a fully grown man, perfectly capable of defending himself against his mother.
“You were fortunate to have Mathers,” Roslyn murmured.
“Extremely fortunate. She was one of the few people who treated me as a normal boy and not a duke’s son…and one of the fewer still whose motives I never had to question.” He hesitated, glancing at Roslyn. “By the time I was out of short coats, I had learned that most people want something from me.”
“Because of your wealth and consequence?”
“Yes. And when I was sixteen, that lesson was driven home quite painfully.”
“What happened when you were sixteen?”
“I let myself be seduced.”
Roslyn met his eyes, wondering if he was jesting. But she could tell by the rough shadow of emotion there that he was in earnest. “That seems hard to imagine.”
“Regrettably, it’s true. She was strikingly beautiful and my first lover…a young widow only four years my senior but far more experienced. I should have known better than to trust her professions of love, but I was in the throes of lust, suffering a young man’s infatuation. I was heartbroken when I discovered how she’d schemed to ensnare me so she could become my duchess. She had another lover all along, a lover she planned to keep after we were wed.”
“So that is what made you so cynical about love?” Roslyn asked quietly.
“I expect so.” He gave a short, mirthless laugh. “Truthfully, though, I haven’t thought of her in years.” Drew suddenly shook his head. “Enough maudlin sentiment for one afternoon. Let me show you my newest drainage ditch. The science can be quite fascinating.”
There was a glint of sardonic humor in his eyes as he turned his horse away from the cottage, yet Roslyn was not surprised that he’d deliberately changed the subject.
What did surprise her was how vulnerable those vibrant green eyes had been for a moment. Even more surprising was that Drew had let her see his vulnerability.
She could no longer blame him for his cynicism, though, Roslyn reflected as she urged her horse alongside his. And the fact that he’d been hurt so bitterly as a young man roused even stronger protective instincts in her. She wanted to wrap her arms around him, to kiss away his hurt—
Forcibly quelling the yearning, Roslyn bit her lower lip. She didn’t want to see this tender, vulnerable side of Drew. It was far easier to resist the seductive rake, the cynical nobleman.
Which made her too vulnerable to him. She could so easily lose her heart to this man. And that could be disastrous.
It would be a tremendous mistake to fall in love with Drew when her love wasn’t returned. He wasn’t willing to let himself love anyone, to let himself trust, and she would be a fool to let herself hope otherwise.
Drew found his thoughts predictably unsettled as they concluded the tour of his estates. He’d taken Eleanor’s advice and risked sharing something of himself with Roslyn, recounting the sordid little tale of how he’d been played for a fool by his first lover, duped by a beautiful widow who’d left his young heart in pieces.
He’d recovered fairly quickly, and the experience no longer caused him pain, but it was still uncomfortable for him to remember.
Fortunately he rarely thought of the widow anymore. He’d determinedly wiped her from his mind long ago. But the lesson she’d taught him had never left him. The wariness was always there, hovering at the back of his consciousness.
His distrust was the reason he’d always shied away from matrimony so resolutely. He didn’t want to be locked in a marriage with a woman who only wanted his wealth and title. He wanted to be loved for himself—
The significance of that realization was a little startling, Drew admitted silently. It was the first time in his life he’d ever acknowledged wanting love.
He wanted a wife who could love him for himself.
Could Roslyn possibly be that woman? Unconsciously his gaze went to her as she rode beside him. She would make him an excellent duchess, he knew. Her graciousness, her easy manner with his tenants today, had shown him how effortlessly she could fill the role of lady of Arden Castle.
Unquestionably she would bring warmth to his house. Unlike his brittle, domineering mother, who held her underlings in contempt, who ruled her domain like an ice queen.
Roslyn could be regal in her demeanor, but she was the stark opposite of an ice queen. Rather, she was the very essence of warmth. This afternoon she wore a small shako hat, with her hair knotted simply at her nape. Her golden hair seemed to absorb the sunlight, Drew realized as he watched her, while her smile seemed to rival it.
Her smile was lovely and warm and made him ache inside with longing. A longing that went much deeper than carnal desire, Drew acknowledged.
Roslyn stirred uncomfortable emotions in him that were far more potent—and significantly more disturbing.
Even so, he relished the feeling.
For years he’d striven for emotional detachment. If he didn’t feel for people, then he couldn’t be betrayed. His two closest friends, Marcus and Heath, had never betrayed him, never disappointed him, and thus had earned his undying trust and loyalty.
But he was in danger of becoming too much like his mother, with the same coldness, the same haughty detachment, the same loneliness.
Until now he’d never thought of himself as lonely, but Roslyn’s question a moment ago had made him realize that he was indeed lonely much of the time—or he had been before meeting her. She had roused him from his self-protective shell. Had brought enchantment to his hitherto dispassionate existence. Since coming to know her, his life had been fuller, richer. More passionate.
Drew felt himself frown. Perhaps he’d been unconsciously searching for passion all this time and hadn’t even known it. A woman who could make him feel something more profound than mere physical pleasure. Who could shake him out of his cold, emotionless existence.
Regardless, he was very glad Roslyn had come into his life. Despite the danger of the emotions she made him feel. Despite even the supreme sexual frustration that her nearness caused him.
Physical discomfort, though painful, was worth enduring if he could share her warmth.
Drew was not eager to subject Roslyn to his mother again, but dinner turned out to be bearable even with its stiff formality, because the duchess kept her scornful remarks to a minimum, and Roslyn kept up a polite conversation that eased the strain.
After dinner, however, was another question entirely. Proper custom dictated that ladies repair to the drawing room while gentlemen enjoyed their port wine. But Drew had no desire to drink by himself, and absolutely no intention of leaving Roslyn alone with the Dragon, so he accompanied them to the large drawing room.
His refusal to conform to convention roused the duchess’s ire even more than he expected; no sooner had they settled in chairs when she launched her first volley. “You disappoint me, Arden. You know I do not tolerate ill-bred behavior in my house.”
Drew had to work to keep his reply bland. “Actually, it is my house, Mother.”
“Perhaps, but if you expect me to pretend to support this unsuitable betrothal of yours, you will accede to my wishes.”
Drew’s jaw hardened, but his mother went on stonily.
“You know very well I don’t approve of this match. You can do much better in choosing a bride. Miss Loring is so far beneath you—”
He cut off her tirade in midstream. “First, Mother, it is not your place to tell me what bride to choose. And second, I cannot do better than Miss Loring.”
“Well, you must, because I will not give my blessing to such an unequal arrangement.”
He returned his mother’s haughty stare measure for measure. “You will, or you will remove to the dower house in the morning.”
“You wouldn’t dare!”
“Certainly I would dare. I’ll order your personal belongings carried there and have you barred from the Castle before I return to London. My staff will obey my wishes, you know they will.”
The duchess paled, gaping at him in fury.
Throughout their argument, Roslyn had remained silent, but now she intervened.
“Drew,” Roslyn said in a low voice. “It doesn’t matter. I have never desired to climb any higher in society. I am perfectly content where I am.”
“It damn well matters to me.”
Nearly quivering with rage, the duchess rose to her feet. “You will not swear in my presence, sirrah, do I make myself clear?”
Rising just as abruptly, Drew held out his hand to Roslyn. “Come, sweetheart, I cannot stay here another moment without succumbing to the urge to do murder.”
His mother gasped in outrage, but Drew paid her no attention as he pulled Roslyn from the room. Without stopping, he stalked through the house to the library, Roslyn still in tow.
She made no objection to his rapid pace, but by the time he pushed open the French doors and escaped onto the terrace, she was a trifle breathless. It was only then that Drew realized he had let his wrath get the better of him. Usually he managed to control his fierce urge to throttle his mother by determinedly ignoring her.
Muttering an apology, he dropped Roslyn’s hand and crossed the terrace to the stone balustrade, where he stared out at the stately gardens. A full moon had just risen, so the peaceful view was a stark contrast to the anger roiling inside him.
He sensed more than saw Roslyn move to stand beside him.
Her tone was hesitant, wary, when she finally spoke. “I don’t wish to come between you and your mother, Drew.”
“You haven’t come between us,” he said through gritted teeth. “We have been at loggerheads for years. Normally I let her have her way—but not this time.”
“I think you are making too much of the matter. I don’t want or need her approval. And I should think you wouldn’t, either.”
“I don’t want it for myself, but for you. She can assure your place in society if she chooses to.”
“But truly, it doesn’t matter to me. And I certainly don’t want you to battle over it. It is too distressing. Perhaps I’m craven, but my parents’ battles left me with a dread of strife.”
Drew felt his heart twist. His ire had reached the boiling point with his mother’s implacable view of her consequence and her tyrannical need to govern anyone who came into her realm. But he had no right to take his anger out on Roslyn.
Turning, he reached down to take her hand and bring it to his lips. “Forgive me, sweeting. I should not have let my temper get the best of me.”
She smiled up at him tentatively. “Well…you did have grave provocation. But I doubt the local magistrate would look kindly upon the murder of a duchess. Especially one so closely related to you.”
His lips curved faintly at her forced attempt at humor, but all his thoughts faded when his gaze came to rest on Roslyn’s upturned face. In the moonlight, her beauty caught him like a sharp blow.
His heart started to pound as he stared at her. As want, need, desire suddenly filled him.
Without conscious thought, he leaned closer. He wasn’t supposed to touch her. He’d promised himself he would employ romance to woo her, not seduction. But he couldn’t bear to let another moment pass without tasting her, touching her.
Unable to help himself, Drew lowered his mouth to hers. He kissed her slowly, letting his tongue slide inside, savoring her sweetness, her warmth. After a brief second of shocked stillness, Roslyn opened to him. Swaying weakly against him, she reached up to steady herself, then clutched his upper arms as if to pull him even closer.
At her hungry response, Drew wanted nothing more than to drag her into his embrace, but instead, he summoned every ounce of willpower he possessed to break off. Giving a low groan, he stepped back, putting a safer distance between them.
The kiss had left him raw and aching, left his voice hoarse with need when he spoke. “I didn’t mean to succumb to temptation. I meant to keep my hands off you entirely. To show I could woo you the way you want to be wooed.”
She searched his face for a long moment, then swallowed before replying. “That is the way I want to be wooed, Drew. With tenderness.”
His chuckle sounded pained. “I’m afraid I couldn’t manage tenderness for long. And I sure as the devil won’t be able to stop with a mere kiss.”
“I don’t want you to stop.”
His gaze arrested. “Do you know what you are saying?”
“Yes,” she said softly. “I know. I want you to make love to me.”
He glanced back at the doors leading to the library. “Not here. Not with my mother in the house.”
“Then where?” she asked.
“The cottage,” he said after a moment. “The gamekeeper’s cottage I showed you today. Will you come there with me?”
Roslyn nodded. “Yes,” she replied simply.
He felt his heart turn over with elation, felt his loins tighten at the thought of being with her again. This was his chance, Drew reflected, pulling in an uneven breath. Tonight he would make Roslyn feel overwhelming passion for him. The kind of ardent passion he had begun to feel for her.
Stepping closer, he lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to it. “Give me ten minutes. I’ll need to saddle a horse…and I must fetch something from my room first. Wait for me here, will you?”
Roslyn nodded again silently.
“Are you sure, sweeting?” Drew repeated.
“Yes, I am sure.”
Hearing no hesitation in her voice, he gave her fingers one last lingering kiss. “Ten minutes, then.”
Roslyn’s nerves were taut with anticipation by the time Drew returned. Without speaking, he laced his fingers with hers and led her through the library and down a corridor to a side door, where he had a horse waiting. Lifting her up, he mounted behind her and drew her back against him.
They rode across the grounds in silence. The summer night was beautiful and serene, the darkness awash with silver moonlight, but the ride seemed to last forever. Eagerness strummed inside Roslyn, beating an urgent rhythm in time with her heart. She could feel Drew’s warmth at her back, feel the hard muscles of his chest and enveloping arms arousing her senses.
When finally they arrived, Roslyn spoke for the first time. “Your gamekeeper won’t mind if we use his cottage?”
“He no longer lives here. I provided him a larger home and kept this for my own because I was fond of it. One of the privileges of having a fortune—being able to indulge my sentimental whims.”
She doubted Drew had many sentimental whims, so she was glad he could indulge this one.
Dismounting, he helped her down and preceded her inside. He didn’t light a candle but pulled aside the curtains on the front windows instead, letting the moonlight stream in.
This cottage was significantly larger than the one where they had first made love, Roslyn realized at a glance, and much better furnished.
“The bedchambers are upstairs,” he said, taking her hand again.
He mounted the wooden stairs with her and guided her to a room that boasted a large, high bed. When Drew opened those curtains as well, moonlight flooded in—bright enough that she could see the wryness in his smile as he turned back to her.
“It’s fortunate you decided to put an end to my misery, sweeting. I didn’t know how much longer I could endure not making love to you.”
Roslyn smiled. “Please don’t endure any longer.”
He stepped closer and took her face in his hands. For a long moment he simply gazed at her. “I have missed this…just touching you.”
“I have missed it, too,” Roslyn replied softly.
She raised her face to his, already anticipating the heat of his kisses, but Drew surprised her by reaching into his pocket and drawing out a pouch, which contained several small sponges and a vial of liquid.
“You said you wanted to take precautions against conceiving, so I brought this. Sponges soaked in vinegar should prevent my seed from taking root.”
It warmed her that he’d remembered her concern and taken the trouble to alleviate it. “Thank you,” Roslyn murmured sincerely.
He laid the pouch on the bedside table, then turned down the covers.
Returning to her, he pulled the pins from her hair and fanned it out over her shoulders. Then he undressed her in the hushed silence, and let her undress him.
When he stood naked before her, Roslyn caught her breath in awe. Moonlight poured over him, highlighting the chiseled planes of his face, the broad expanse of his chest, the virile contours of his body. His form was lean and powerful, sculpted and graceful, like that of a Greek god. And when he took her in his arms, she could feel sleek muscles rippling under taut skin.
The first touch of his lips was warm, intimate, almost sweet, but it kindled a flame in her that she knew would quickly grow. Then all thought fled as she lost herself in the pleasure of touch and taste and need. The tender, openmouthed kisses Drew cherished on her made her whimper, and so did the sensual hands that began to caress her. Her breasts swelled in arousal, while a tremulous pulsing heated her body.
Roslyn almost cried out in disappointment when his mouth left hers, but he only lifted her in his arms and carried her to the bed, where he gently laid her down and then sat beside her.
Holding her gaze then, he made use of the pouch he’d brought…wetting a sponge, parting her legs and easing it deep inside her woman’s passage. Roslyn trembled at the delicacy of his touch, at the sensual eroticism he was deliberately employing. She was breathless by the time Drew stretched out beside her, bracing his weight on one elbow.
Longing to have him inside her, she reached for him, but he shook his head. “Not yet. We have all night.”
He bent his head to suckle her breasts. The touch of his searing mouth sent a streak of fire traveling downward to the heated, throbbing core of her body, making her arch up off the mattress.
“Drew, please…” she pleaded.
“What do you want, sweetheart?”
“I want you.”
He moved closer, pressing his body against hers—his hard belly, his sinewed thighs, and between his legs, his thick arousal—but nothing more. She relished feeling the naked heat and strength of him, but it wasn’t enough.
“Hurry,” she whispered.
“No. We need to take our time.”
Roslyn bit her lip, ready to scream, but she managed to quell her hunger for another few moments as he caressed her.
His fingers trailed down her body to the juncture of her thighs, gliding through the soft curls to find her slick cleft. She was already hot and swollen for him, even before he began stroking her aching flesh with exquisite tenderness.
“Drew, I can’t bear it…please.”
She exhaled a ragged sigh when finally he eased his body over hers, nestling his splendid length in the cradle of her thighs. And she met his first silken penetration with a blissful moan.
Her moans increased as he began to move inside her. Her hands roaming restlessly down his back, Roslyn clutched the taut curves of his flexing buttocks, urging him to quicken his pace. But he wouldn’t obey.
Instead he aroused her slowly, gliding in and then withdrawing. Thrusting, penetrating, filling…then sliding almost free, leaving her aching with want, gasping with need. He sought her pleasure, courted it, wooed it, whispering soft erotic things in her ear, until she was half wild with passion.
Drew was feeling the same wildness as he reveled in the feel and scent and taste of her. There was urgency in his every heartbeat, yet he forced himself to slow down. He wanted this to last. Wanted her passion to be blazing-hot.
His face taut with concentration, he drew back to watch Roslyn’s pleasure…and found his gaze captured by her desire-hazed eyes.
Quivering, she wrapped her legs around his hips, locking him close, surrounding him, drawing him in. Gritting his teeth, Drew plunged even deeper into her searing wetness, planting himself to the hilt inside her. Her harsh gasps becoming frenzied, she bucked against him, surging upward, making him share her helpless shudders as his own frenzy mounted.
She was flame-hot in her arousal; she was liquid fire beneath his aching body. He rode her harder, no longer in control of his response.
The rhythm of their desire turned explosive, and an instant later, Roslyn’s entire body clenched. Her keening cry melted his heart, while her convulsive ecstasy propelled his own body to a tempestuous climax.
Drew poured his desire into her, driving with fierce possessiveness, deeper and deeper, as if he couldn’t get far enough inside her. Groans tearing from his throat, he pounded into her, quaking, jolting, arching, until finally contracting powerfully and drenching her with his hot, spurting seed.
In the aftermath, they clung to each other with gasping shudders. When the tremors faded, Drew somehow found the energy to shift his weight so that he wasn’t crushing her, but their loins were still joined, his mouth buried in her hair.
The harshness of his breathing calmed as the night settled in around them. With a slow, sated exhalation, Drew shut his eyes. Their lovemaking had been a savage explosion of the senses, yet despite the fierceness, he’d never felt such intimacy, such tenderness, as he felt right this moment with Roslyn.
He was pondering what to say when he became aware of the slow evenness of her breathing and realized that she was no longer awake.
Drew smiled ruefully. He had set out to rouse her passion, but instead he’d put her to sleep. Carefully, he eased onto his side while leaving Roslyn still trapped in the shelter of his body. He didn’t want to fall asleep, though. He would rather watch her.
Surveying her exquisite beauty in the moonlight, he was hard-pressed to understand why he felt so content in her arms. Why she satisfied him so completely. Why her warmth touched him so.
But the simple truth was, Roslyn filled a need he’d never had a name for until now. It seemed irrational at this point in his life to discover there was this huge need inside him, yet he couldn’t deny it. She stanched a loneliness he hadn’t even known he was suffering from. She kindled delight and joy in him—
Drew suddenly went very still. He was experiencing some of the same symptoms she had tried to describe. He felt happy in her presence. He felt restless and empty without her. He felt a hunger that went far beyond the physical.
Heart love was what she termed it.
Something clenched in his chest; not pain, but wonder.
Was it possible he was actually falling in love with her? Was he capable of love after all?
How else could he explain the powerful emotions he felt for her? If his yearning for her was only carnal desire, it wouldn’t touch his heart and mind.
Drew closed his eyes, testing the theory. Roslyn had slipped beneath his defenses, that was for certain, but the knowledge didn’t make him cringe as he expected. Indeed, it was profoundly appealing—the thought of sharing intimacy and love and affection with her for the rest of their days.
He’d never expected to have that with his bride. But now he wouldn’t settle for less. He wanted a love match with Roslyn, not just a marriage of convenience. He wanted her to love him, not merely be forced to marry him to avoid scandal.
And if he couldn’t make her love him?
His arms tightened reflexively around her. He wouldn’t even consider the possibility.
He would never let her go, Drew vowed in the hushed stillness. He would win Roslyn’s heart before long. He would wed her and make her his duchess. And he would give her the kind of future she had once envisioned with another man…the kind of future he had never envisioned for himself.