Stolen Encounters With The Duchess. Julia Justiss
an evening where people talked about important ideas, where, among statesmen and diplomats, a mere society female whose opinions were of little value would be ignored. Where she’d be able to sit quietly and just observe. And escape, for an evening, all the petty problems that pricked at her daily.
‘It sounds fascinating, but...would you be there, too? It would be rather intimidating to attend such a gathering of intellectuals, having only a slight acquaintance with all those present.’
‘I’m sure you’ll have met most of them at various society gatherings. But, yes, if it would make you feel easier, I could make sure I’m invited as well.’
‘Then, I should love it! If you’re certain Lady Lyndlington wouldn’t find it impertinent of me to request an invitation? I’ve met her, of course, but could hardly claim to call her a friend.’
‘I imagine she would be delighted of your company, but I will ask. Now, we should probably be getting you back as well. Shall I send you a note after I’ve spoken to Lady Lyndlington?’
Glancing over at the clock, Faith noticed to her surprise that they had been chatting for some time. ‘Yes, I should go, too. I’d prefer to already be at home before my mother-in-law returns from the Park, and the inquisition begins.’
Hating to bring their time together to an end, Faith made herself rise. ‘How can I ever thank you enough? Rescuing me not once, but twice, and then offering the promise of a stimulating evening.’
‘It would give me the greatest delight to stimulate you.’
Her eyes flew to his face, and though it coloured a little at the blatant double entendre, he didn’t apologise, nor did he retract the remark. Instead, he simply looked at her, giving her another glimpse of heat before masking his gaze.
Arousal returned in a rush. How easily she could imagine the delight his ‘stimulation’ would bring her!
She wanted to reply in kind, to make clear she understood and shared his desire. But so inexperienced was she in flirtation, before she could come up with some cleverly suggestive remark, he said, ‘I hope you’ll enjoy a political evening at Lord Witlow’s even half as much as I have enjoyed this conversation. I’ll send you a note as soon as I’ve spoken with Lady Lyndlington.’
She suppressed a sigh, irritated that she’d let the opportunity slip. Accepting his redirection of the conversation back into proper channels, she said, ‘Thank you again. I’ve enjoyed our conversation, too. We mustn’t let our friendship lapse again, must we?’
Friendship...and perhaps more? He offered his arm, and she took it, a little surge of energy flashing between them the instant her fingers touched him. As he escorted her out, she was once again intensely aware of his virile presence beside her, the strength, confidence and sense of purpose that seemed to radiate from him.
Ah, yes, her Davie had grown up, and the man he’d become fascinated—and attracted—her. Regardless of the potential danger of that attraction and the possible objections from her mother-in-law about being in his company, she couldn’t wait to spend more time with him.
After seeing the Duchess safely off in a hackney, Davie started walking. He should go back to the committee room, but after spending time with Faith, he was too energised, excited—and aroused—to be able to recapture yet the calm and imperturbable mask he wore when doing political work.
And partly, he admitted to himself, he wanted to savour the rare experience of spending time with her. Let himself linger and recall each moment, like a collector taking a precious object out of a treasure box, to admire and examine again and again.
As a girl, she’d glowed with an infectious joy in life that drew people to her, like an inn’s beacon attracts travellers on a cold, dark night. He recalled her fixing that warm, intense gaze on him while he spoke, as if he were the most fascinating individual in the universe. To feel like the sole focus of attention of so beautiful and intelligent a girl—small wonder he’d tumbled head over heels.
It hurt his heart to see how sadness had dimmed that glow. But though the fire might have burned low, embers remained. He felt compelled to give her the encouragement and opportunities that would fan those sparks to a blaze again.
Just this one short meeting proved to him it was possible. Offered his understanding and support, and the prospect of an evening away from her usual society duties, she had unconsciously straightened, her expression brighter, her smile warmer, while in her eyes, a guarded enthusiasm grew.
He couldn’t wait to see that progress continue, when she actually attended such a gathering.
He shouldn’t have made that remark about ‘stimulating’ her, though the desire coursing through him had been too strong for him to rescind it, inappropriate as it was. She’d been lovely enough, swaddled in her cape in the dimness of lamplight last night; upon seeing her in full daylight, in that grey gown that accented her curves and brought out the brilliance of her blue eyes, he would have to have been made of stone not to have wanted her more than ever. The slender beauty he’d loved for so long had grown into a powerfully alluring woman.
Though she’d not known how to reply to his suggestive remark, she hadn’t rebuffed him. Quite the contrary; leaning closer, her lips parting slightly, her gaze heating, he had read in her response that the passion he felt was reciprocated.
Probably not with the same intensity, he conceded. Still, he couldn’t help feeling a primal masculine satisfaction upon discovering that the lady he prized above all others found him attractive, both as a friend and as a man. But knowing that she would welcome his touch would also make it harder to hold under control a body already ravenous to taste her.
Because that absolutely could not happen. An affair between two individuals from such radically different levels of society was too delicious a piece of gossip not to eventually become known, no matter how careful they were about meeting. Much as he wanted her, he loved her more. He would not tarnish her honour—or his—with an affair that would make her the target of the malicious, or give her mother-in-law further reason to disparage her or question her fitness to bring up her sons.
Besides, an affair would never be enough for him. Having all of her for a time and then being forced to give her up would be unendurable.
Better to live with the ache he knew, re-establish their friendship, and use that position to enrich her life as best he could. Even if she would never be his, he wanted her to be happy.
Still not ready to return to the committee room, where he would have to banish Faith’s image and the memories of today’s meeting, he considered going back to Albany to write Lady Lyndlington a note. But then he’d have to wait upon her reply before he could communicate with Faith, and he didn’t want to wait.
Why not call upon his friend’s wife now? She would most likely be either at her town house in Upper Brook Street, or her father’s home in Cavendish Square.
Energised by the prospect of being able to move forward his scheme, Davie hurried to the hackney stand and engaged a jarvey to take him to Upper Brook Street.
* * *
To his relief, Lady Lyndlington was at home, although the butler informed him this wasn’t a day when she would normally receive guests. Insisting that he was close enough a friend of the master for that restriction not to apply to him, he persuaded the butler to convey him to the Blue Salon and to enquire whether her ladyship could spare him a few minutes.
Davie paced the parlour, too agitated to sit. He was certain his friend’s wife would take the Duchess under her wing, and impatient to learn when they could begin.
‘Davie, what a pleasant surprise,’ Lady Lyndlington said as she walked in, giving him her hands to kiss. ‘That is, everything is all right? Giles hasn’t suffered any injury—’
‘No, no, Giles is fine! I’m sorry if my sudden appearance