Educating Elizabeth

Chapter 17

Elizabeth dropped the second piece of toast onto her plate and stared at the duke's empty chair. He had not breakfasted with them for the last five mornings or visited her bed at night. Her thoughts strayed to their visit to the theater. After the duke dropped her unceremoniously on his doorstep and drove off she overheard one of the footmen laugh and remark that the duke had gone to a brothel.

Had her bold offer annoyed the duke so much that he had run away from her? It seemed unlikely. She was the novice in the elegant game of seduction they played, not him. She tried to remember his face as she had quit the carriage. He had not looked angry, only impatient to be gone.

She sighed and got to her feet, aware that Standish was hovering, waiting to clear the table. She was glad she had the mysterious code to concentrate on. If she were not so busy she might have spent the days worrying about the duke's aberrant behavior...

She paused in the doorway and saw Sir John studying something on her desk. "May I help you?"

He straightened and scooped up a small red leather-covered book, which he slid into his coat pocket. "My apologies, Mrs. Waterstone. The duke asked me to take another look at the code."

Elizabeth raised her chin. Something in Sir John's patronizing tone and condescending manner always implied that the duke didn't think she was working hard enough.

"Did he really, sir?"

Sir John wiped his brow with a crumpled linen handkerchief. "Sometimes I find it helpful to jot down a few of the more obscure phrases to study at my leisure. I confess to being overeager to see you break the code."

It was on the tip of Elizabeth's tongue to remind him they were supposed to keep the code locked away, but she remained silent as he patted the pocket where he'd deposited the book. She took her seat, picked up the small piece of parchment she had been working on and gave him a dismissive smile. "I will do my best for you, sir."

"You must think me impatient, Mrs. Waterstone," he said slowly. "But I've seen too many men die not to wish for a speedy conclusion to this matter."

Elizabeth was unable to ignore the note of sincerity in his voice. If she had seen colleagues and friends killed in such a dangerous underworld, she too might feel as passionate as Sir John did. With renewed vigor, she bent to her task and her annoyance with Sir John disappeared.

Sir John came and went between his office and the duke's and at one point, Elizabeth heard Nicholas poking fun at him. She didn't hear the duke's voice until the clock in his study chimed twelve noon. She put down her quill and took in a deep breath, suddenly uncertain of how to approach him.

Standish knocked on the door to remind her that luncheon was being served and she thanked him absently. She looked down at her plain, high-necked, grape-colored gown and winced when she realized that she had managed to drip ink on her skirt. It was not surprising that the duke didn't consider her a fit mate when she looked like a ragamuffin. She would have to change before she went out to take tea with her mother and Mary.

She waited until Sir John and the duke left the library and then made her way upstairs after locking the precious documents in her desk. She didn't bother to ring for her maid as she hurriedly changed into another demure and sensible gown that her mother would no doubt consider dowdy. As she struggled with the buttons at the back, her feelings got the better of her.

"Damnation, I wish I were a man!"

"Now, there we must disagree. My tastes have never run that way. I'm very glad that you are a woman."

Elizabeth went still as the duke came up behind her and laced up the dress, his fingers warm against the curve of her spine. He dropped a kiss on the soft skin beneath her ear. Too embarrassed to look at him, Elizabeth hurried to the mirror to pat her hair.

"You look fine, my dear, if a little severe. Are you off to meet your mother?"

"Yes, Your Grace, if that is acceptable to you." Elizabeth glanced around and looked everywhere but at the duke. He retreated to the door and she started to breathe again, hoping that he meant to leave. She spied her reticule and favorite bonnet on the floor beside her bed and rushed to pick them up. The pile of books she had bought for Michael from Hatchards lay on her dressing table, already tied up with string.

She almost wept in frustration as the duke strolled toward her and relieved her of her burdens.

"Let me help you carry these. Then Nicholas can take them into the carriage for you."

She could do nothing but smile and lead the way down the wide staircase. There was no one in the hall when they reached it, as all the staff were engaged in serving luncheon.

Elizabeth turned to thank the duke and found him watching her intently.

"Now what have I done?"

His gaze traveled over her as though she were an interesting new puzzle. She spun on her heel, but he caught her elbow and persuaded her to face him.

"Will you join us for some lunch before you disappear? It is a little early for an afternoon call and I believe Nicholas is still eating."

There was a hint of command in the duke's voice that she had learned meant he intended to be obeyed. With a defeated sigh, she turned in the direction of the dining room and, after a moment, he followed her. He helped her to a seat and bent over her as he draped a napkin across her lap.

"Make no mistake, my dear," he said pleasantly, dangerously. "I will not tolerate being ignored for much longer. We will discuss my shortcomings later."

After an hour's quiet reflection on her visit, Elizabeth ventured down to dinner. It seemed as if Jack Llewelyn had found approval with her brother. The rapport and respect between him and Michael and the obvious improvement in Michael's health had heartened her greatly. Her decision to stay with the duke and earn the money for Michael's care suddenly seemed a good one.

Her mother had been as ungracious as ever, her questions about the duke both persistent and, to Elizabeth's mind, impertinent. Mary too seemed much as usual. Her excitement over her debut was a thing of wonderment to be discussed and marveled over with Elizabeth.

Elizabeth smiled as she entered the dining room and saw that the duke and Nicholas were already in evidence. A flutter of gauzy pink and a flash of diamonds revealed Angelique returning from the balcony that overlooked the square.

"Ah, now we are all here." Angelique pressed a scented, rouged cheek against Elizabeth's. "That boring, prosy Sir John has left and it is just the four of us."

Elizabeth accepted a glass of wine from the duke without quite meeting his eyes and drank it down hastily. Before she could draw breath, he refilled her glass and led her to the table where Standish waited to serve the first course. Elizabeth was seated on the duke's right, Angelique on his left, and Nicholas beside Angelique.

For a little while, Elizabeth concentrated her attention on the delicious food. Her mother had served weak tea and nothing else and that was only after a great deal of complaining. A rich red wine accompanied the second course and Elizabeth began to feel its potent effects. She dropped her spoon into her half-finished dessert of Chantilly cream and sat back with a sigh. The duke waved the servants away and passed around the heavy glass decanter of port and a box of Spanish cigars.

Elizabeth's eyes widened as Angelique accepted both. When the duke turned to serve her, she defiantly filled her glass with port and, aware of his sardonic gaze, recklessly swallowed it down in one. The fiery kick of it hitting her stomach made her eyes water but she held the duke's stare, a challenge in her gaze. He raised one eyebrow in her direction and refilled her glass.

She pretended to sip at the port and then closed her eyes as the room undulated beneath her feet. Hoping that the duke wouldn't notice, she slowly put both her elbows onto the table and rested her chin in her hands.

Angelique blew out a perfect smoke ring and smiled at Elizabeth. "I've just been telling Nicholas how lucky he is to have a family. Gervase and I lost many of our relations in the chaos after the revolution in France." Angelique nodded at the duke, who sat back in his chair, watching Elizabeth. "In truth, if it had not been for Gervase, Nicholas and I would not be here now."

Elizabeth angled her head, with some difficulty, to look at the duke

"Don't try to make me out to be a hero, Angelique. I did what I had to and so did you."

"Ah, Gervase." Angelique shook her finger at the duke. "You hate to be praised, don't you?" She turned to Elizabeth. "After his own family was betrayed to the new government, Gervase made sure that all of his dependents and staff were able to leave France before they were taken too." Her face softened. "I only wish that we had been able to save everyone."

Elizabeth frowned as grief flashed across the duke's rigid features. Was he still in mourning for a wife he purported to despise?

Anxious to change a subject that the duke found uncomfortable, and full of an unstoppable desire to speak, Elizabeth interrupted Angelique with a wave of her hand that made her head spin.

"My father was a hero too, but he left me. My mother said I killed him."

Even through the haze of her muddled thoughts, Elizabeth could tell she had gained their startled attention. She attempted a nod but it made the room twirl around like a waltzing couple so she anchored her chin on her hands again.

"Elizabeth..." the duke's compelling voice made her pause and blink at him. "I think that you are a trifle under the hatches. Would you like me to escort you to bed?"

"No, Your Grace," Elizabeth said firmly and wondered why the duke's lips twitched. "You are always telling me what a bad person you are and now I intend to tell you that I'm not much better."

"Well, go ahead, ma belle," he said gently. "But please remember that you have to face us all in the morning."

Elizabeth frowned as she tried to concentrate on her memories. They kept escaping her like Sir John's papers swirling in the breeze.

"My father was in the army and was often away, but when I was eight, he came home unexpectedly. My brothers were away at school and I was left with my mother." She shivered. "It was always dark in the house, and my mother had gone out and left me alone. When I first heard my father's voice, I was so afraid I went and hid under my bed."

Angelique sat forward and took Elizabeth's hand. "It is a frightening thing to be left alone like that, is it not? At that age I remember thinking every sound was a monster come to devour me."

Elizabeth frowned as Nicholas slid a cup of coffee under her nose. She looked at the duke who gestured for her to drink. She managed to sip a little of the steaming brew before continuing her tale.

"When my father coaxed me out, I could see he was angry even though he reassured me that I had done nothing wrong. He sat me on his knee and started to question me about my mother." She shrugged. "There was little I could tell him as to her whereabouts, only that she left me at home alone every night.

My father took hold of my hand and walked through the house, stopping every now and then to look at blank spaces on the wall or in the display cabinets."

She studied the silk lined walls of the duke's dining room and the lavish display of art and wondered if the duke had ever thought to gamble away his possessions.

"Eventually, we arrived at the kitchen, which was the only warm room in the house. My father's face was white and his fingers trembled when he tried to drink the tea I made him. He kept asking where all the pictures and family heirlooms had gone. All I could tell him was that mother said they were being repaired and would be back soon."

Elizabeth picked up her coffee cup and blew softly. "Of course, he must have guessed that my mother had sold off our valuables to finance her gambling. At the time I only knew my father was distraught and that I didn't know how to help him."

Angelique glanced at the duke who nodded slightly and then she squeezed Elizabeth's hand. "What happened then? It doesn't sound as if he blamed you or that you killed him."

Elizabeth put the cup down so awkwardly it rattled in its saucer. "I felt so badly for him, that I made him follow me upstairs to my bedroom." She half closed her eyes as the memories overwhelmed her. "It sounds ridiculous now, but I wanted to comfort him and show him all was not lost. I pulled up the loose floorboard in my bedroom where I had hidden some food and my favorite doll so that my mother couldn't take them from me. I offered him my treasures with such pride and when he crushed me tightly against him and began to rock me like a baby I was most indignant."

Elizabeth's smile faltered "I remember how the tattered gold braid on his uniform was crushed against my face and how I struggled to breathe until I realized he was crying. I stayed still then until he let me go, terrified that I had upset him by showing him my secrets."

She glanced up at her silent listeners and drew in a breath. "When my mother returned home there was a terrible argument. I sat at the top of the stairs, my knees drawn up tight to my chest and listened as my world was destroyed."

The duke reached across the expanse of the table and took hold of her other hand.

"My father never came back. He was killed shortly afterwards volunteering for a dangerous, some might say, suicidal attack, on a French gun position. My mother blamed me and still does on occasion."

The duke stood up so quickly his chair tipped backward and pulled her into his arms. "It was not your fault." He crushed her hard against his chest, his voice hoarse in her ear. "You are never to think it."

She gasped as the duke swept her up into his arms and headed for the door. She clung to his shoulders as he marched up the stairs and put her down on the bed. His mouth covered hers with an urgency and hunger she strove to return.

Her body seemed to have turned to liquid as she pressed closer and closer to him, seeking relief from the emotions swirling inside her. He continued to kiss her, his hands all over her, her breasts aching for his touch. He shuddered as he tipped her off his lap onto her back and came down over her, one satin-clad leg between her thighs.

"You must not blame yourself, Elizabeth. You were only eight years old."

She touched his cheek, "Why is it so important to you that I believe this, Gervase"

He rolled onto his back, taking her with him. "I taught my son the secrets of our château in France and his mother, my wife, used that knowledge to destroy my family."

Elizabeth forced the duke to look at her by the simple expedient of caging his face in her hands. "I didn't know you had a son."

"I don't anymore. My wife found herself an important lover in the revolutionary government, and in an effort to impress him, she decided to betray my family and dependents to the provincial courts."

He shrugged. "She persuaded my son, David, to reveal all the hiding places for people and for money I had shown him in the chateau. Unfortunately I was not in the main house when the soldiers arrived, but several of my family were."

The duke closed his eyes. "When my son realized what he had done, he tried to make amends. He knew I was at the old gate house and he came to warn me." He opened his eyes and stared at Elizabeth. "The soldiers shot him like vermin as he ran through the woods. He lasted long enough in my arms to tell me what had happened and to beg my forgiveness."

The duke cursed softly and turned his head away. "So you see, Elizabeth, I know that your father would have forgiven you just as I forgave my son. The only person who betrayed you was your mother."

Elizabeth rested her forehead against the duke's. Her tears ran down her face and dripped onto his.

"Gervase, I'm so sorry." She bent and kissed him hard on the mouth and then cradled his head to her breast in a desperate attempt to console him. He allowed her to hold him for a short while and then pulled away.

Elizabeth touched his mouth with her fingertips. "Will you not stay?"

"No, my dear, it would not be wise." He swung his legs over the side of the bed and ran a hand through his thick black hair. "You might think to offer yourself to me out of pity and, being a lustful man, I might take you up on that offer and it would never do."

"Why not, Your Grace?" Elizabeth asked as he headed for the door.

"Because when I do bed you, Elizabeth Waterstone, it will not be due to the effects of too much port or because you feel sorry for me. It will be because you want me as much as I want you."

He shut the door behind him with a decisive snap and Elizabeth fell back onto her pillows. He truly wanted her? She snuggled down under the covers. She feared he would regret his unguarded words on the morrow and wondered in what subtle ways he would punish her for making him appear vulnerable. A headache crept up on her but she still couldn't regret her reckless drinking competition with the duke.