The Devilish Duke, page 20
“God damn it, woman,” Devlin growled. “Do you always have to be so difficult?”
“Wanting to know how many women one’s intended has seduced is not being difficult.” She tried once more to wriggle free from his grasp. “Now release me.”
“Damn it, Sophie, I have never entertained another woman in my carriage,” he ground out as he relinquished his hold.
She was so surprised by his admission, she forgot to get off his lap. “You don’t actually expect me to believe that, do you?” Did the man think she was simply naïve or completely stupid? “Particularly with your reputation!”
“Well, it is true.” His voice was glacial. “As much as you might not think it, my reputation has been somewhat exaggerated over the years.”
She never expected him to lie blatantly to her face. “Please! Do you forget I saw with my own eyes just what sort of—amorous things—you used to get up to!” The scent and feel of his muscular frame against her was beginning to weaken her resolve. She needed to get off him, or it wouldn’t matter how furious she was. She’d be butter in his hands. She began to slide off of him.
“Sophie, please.” The please made her still once more, unaccustomed as she was to hearing it. “I don’t claim to be a saint,” he said. “But I made a deliberate choice a long time ago to never to share my personal spaces with my dalliances. Now you had better stop squirming your pretty little derrière around on my lap, or you will face the consequences of doing so.”
“You were the one to place me on your lap in the first place.” But instead of pushing off him, she found herself grasping his lapels as if she were drowning.
“Do not say that I did not warn you.” He drew his face closer to her and then kissed her in a frenzy of heat.
Sophie struggled against the delicious sensation. She could feel her defenses start to crumble. She gripped at his jacket as his tongue parted her lips and demanded a response. Her breath hitched in her throat.
She was lost in the sensations. Her body reacted of its own volition; she pushed her chest forward against him, and her tongue met his, returning the thrusts with equal fervor.
His right hand kneaded the flesh of her nipple through the satin material of her gown, causing a pool of heat to rush through her. Reaching her hands up, she gripped the back of his head, trying to get impossibly close.
He groaned in response and deepened the kiss. She was oblivious to anything but him. His touch shocked her. It thrilled her. It drowned her in wonder.
A delicious shiver cascaded through her, and she gasped when his right hand began inching her skirts up over her ankles. The pads of his fingers started trailing up the stocking of her legs, while his mouth began tracing her collarbone, his touch exquisite against her flesh.
“So soft,” he murmured as his hand skimmed the top of the stockings on her left leg.
She inhaled sharply as his hand moved across her skin and rubbed against her undergarments at the junction of her legs.
His lips again found hers, and he kissed her while his hand continued caressing the area between her legs. She had never experienced a feeling like it before. Shivers of pleasure were radiating from the very spot he was slowly rubbing, a pressure slowly building within, heating her very core.
She could not stand it. The feeling of pleasure was too intense. It felt like she was about to fall from some great height. She began squirming against his hand. “Devlin? I do not understand. What is happening to me?”
“’Tis all right, my darling,” he whispered against her lips, his fingers still rubbing against her. “Enjoy what you are feeling. Allow the sensation to consume you.”
Sophie whimpered as the intense pleasure built higher and higher, feeling as if she was about to explode. She closed her eyes in surrender.
The pressure building between her thighs engulfed her. She cried aloud as her whole body suddenly clenched, and wave after wave of rapture cascaded through her entire being.
Collapsing against his chest, she drew in several shaky breaths. She felt odd, as if she had just run a marathon but was now floating on a cloud of contentment; never before had she experienced such intense bliss. She blinked up at Devlin and noticed that he had a look of supreme satisfaction on his face.
A delightful tremor ran through her as he cupped her cheek gently and placed a chaste kiss on her parted lips. “So beautiful,” he murmured against her skin.
“Does that happen every time?” She marveled at the wonder of it.
He laughed. “It will be a lifelong goal of mine to see that it does.”
“But what of you?” she asked. “Did you, too, feel such a sensation?”
“Not this time, my darling,” he answered. “But it did give me a great deal of pleasure watching you experience such satisfaction.”
A blush stole across her cheeks. “I can see now of your great popularity with the ladies. No wonder they all flock to your side.”
Devlin stiffened slightly. “As I previously mentioned, a good deal of the rumors surrounding my liaisons have been greatly exaggerated.”
“I did not mean any offense by the comment,” Sophie cringed. “I was actually trying to pay you a compliment, in a roundabout sort of way.”
“You were, were you?” he asked, lifting her from his lap and onto the seat opposite.
Adjusting her skirts, she found herself momentarily unable to look him in the eye. “Absolutely. It is merely that I have heard a great deal of rumors throughout the years. Though, I do suppose,” she conceded, “that in actuality I have only ever seen you with a few other women. Definitely not in the amount of hundreds, as the rumors suggest.”
“It was a fair assumption to make.” He relaxed somewhat. “Now, don’t get me wrong, I haven’t by any stretch of the imagination been close to celibate—”
“Actually, I think I’d rather not discuss this,” Sophie interrupted him.
“But I want you to know that I am telling you the truth when I say I have not entertained another woman in here. Nor alone in any of my residences, for that matter.”
Sophie drew back slightly from him. “But what about the lady you were cavorting with the night we met?”
“That was only a bit of tomfoolery in the gardens. I had no intention of returning to my bedchamber with her,” he replied.
Not particularly a great consolation. “And your other mistresses? I know from my own observations that you have had many.”
“True, I shall not lie to you on that score.”
Tamping down on her disappointment, she curled her fingers into the folds of her soft silk dress.
“But it has been a steadfast rule of mine,” he continued, “that I would always attend the lady’s residence and not the other way around.”
“But why?”
“I never wished for them to think they had any permanent place in my life.”
“Oh…” She was at a loss as to how to reply. But then her curiosity got the best of her. “How many mistresses have you had?”
His beautiful mouth flattened. “Now I think that question is best left unanswered.”
“But why? You said you would always tell me the truth.”
“That I did, and I will of course honor my promise,” he agreed. “However, my mother did teach me some manners, and disclosing any of my past liaisons to my fiancée is a subject that she would not have deemed suitable. If she were still alive, I am sure she would have scolded me something severe for even discussing the subject with you.”
“She sounds like she was a very sensible woman.” Sophie felt a twinge of sadness that she would never meet her.
A wistfully look flitted across his face. “She was always determined to teach me right from wrong. She wished me to grow up and be like my father, honorable and decent.”
“I am sure they would both be very proud of you.”
He flinched. “I doubt that. But perhaps if they had lived longer, I would have grown up to be more like the man my mother wished me to be.”
Her heart softened. She could see the pain he was trying to conceal, if the rigid set of his shoulders was anything to go by. She quickly moved across to sit next to him.
Picking up his hand, she squeezed it gently. “She would love you for the man you are, Devlin.”
“You, my dear Sophie, are an idealist,” he said, covering her hand with his other. He grimaced faintly. “My reputation for being heartless in both business and in personal endeavors has generally been well deserved.”
She put her other hand up to his cheek. “You have just taken in a young orphaned boy as your ward, whom you treat with warmth and caring. That is not the action of someone who is heartless.”
“I did not do so out of the goodness of my own heart; I owed Nicholas’ father my life. It was the least I could do to repay him. And the boy seems happy enough with me.”
“Making someone else happy is a very noble endeavor.” She hoped that he could see the truth in her words.
He sighed. “That is what my mother used to say, too.”
“A woman of good sense.”
“Yes.” His voice grew distant, his thoughts presumably lost in the past. “She was forever trying to help those less fortunate in our parish. Though she did not have the social connections to effect great change, mainly due to my grandfather cutting off my father’s income when they married. She did, however, manage to still bring a lot of people a great deal of happiness with her kindness.”
His features seemed to soften as he regarded Sophie. “She would have liked you immensely.”
A feeling of pleasure stole through her from his words. She leaned in closer to him and brushed her hand across his cheek. “I am sure I should have liked her equally as well.”
Devlin absently began caressing the back of her hand with his fingers. “You would have, for you both had a great deal of the same interests in common. Two women of strength and compassion, trying to make a difference in the world.”
“It is a shame I never had a chance to meet her. I should have very much have liked to have known both of your parents.”
He stilled. “You can thank my grandfather for that deprivation, as it was he that was responsible for their deaths.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Sophie gasped. “What on earth do you mean?”
Devlin felt the burning rage grip him, as it usually did, when he thought of what his grandfather had done. “He may not have murdered them with his own two hands,” he conceded. “But he might as well have.”
“I thought your parents died in a carriage accident?”
“They did.” He seethed inwardly as he remembered the moment he had found out of his grandfather’s perfidy. “But it was an accident my grandfather paid to have arranged.”
“But why?” she asked. “Why would he wish to kill his own son?”
“Oh, he did not intend to kill my father,” Devlin replied. “No, it was myself and my mother he wished to eradicate. You see, at that point, my uncle Charles had passed away, and my father was the old Duke’s heir, which consequently made me eventually destined to inherit.
“Apparently, the old man could not stand the thought of the title being besmirched with unworthy blood. Seems the old Duke felt both my mother’s previous position as a governess and her being of Irish descent were not fitting for a future duchess, nor would I be a fitting future Duke.”
“But that is ridiculous.”
“It is,” he agreed, “but it was enough for him to murder over.”
She inhaled sharply. “What happened?”
For too long, Devlin had kept the events surrounding his parents’ deaths to himself, never having had anyone who would care enough to hear the details. But he had Sophie now, and he wanted her to know. He needed her to. “My grandfather paid someone to tamper with the wheel moorings on our carriage.” He smiled grimly at her. “A miserly fifty pounds to end my mother’s life.”
“Devlin.” Sophie clutched her hand to her chest. “I am so very sorry.”
Staring out into the street, he barely noticed the hawkers and thoroughfare of pedestrians as the carriage passed them by. “The ride into town from our cottage was only but a few miles; however, the road was very rough, with several rickety old bridges. It was just by an odd quirk of fate that on that particular day, instead of accompanying my mother to town as I always did, I begged off, complaining of a stomachache. My father decided to escort her in my place. Their carriage did not even make it past the first bridge; it tumbled into the icy waters and sank to the bottom.”
He made a conscious effort to unclench his fists. Even now, after so many years, the injustice of it all threatened to consume him. “I was told they had been trapped inside as the carriage lodged on the river bed. From all accounts, it was likely they had been knocked unconscious from the impact of hitting the water and would not have suffered greatly. At least, that is what everyone hoped. The driver survived, though he had a severe chill after repeatedly diving under the water in a vain attempt to save them.”
In his head, he knew his grandfather was the one to blame, but in his heart, Devlin couldn’t help but think that if only he’d been there, he might have been able to save his mother. He felt like cursing fate, and not for the first time either. But there was no point in lamenting the past and what may or may not have been, he’d learnt that the hard way over the years.
Devlin shook himself and dragged his thoughts back to the present. He glanced up at Sophie, and suddenly, he didn’t feel so cold or alone. “So, you see, the greatest laugh was actually on my grandfather. Rather than eradicating my mother and me, as had been his intention, he had inadvertently ensured that I would be his heir, much to his bitter hatred.”
“It is hard to grasp that anyone could do such a Machiavellian thing,” Sophie said. “Was he not your guardian after your parents passing?”
“Yes, he was,” Devlin confirmed. “After they died, I was but eleven, and my grandfather found himself in somewhat of a quandary. I was, after all, the only direct male descendant of his, and after myself, the next in line to the dukedom is some distant French cousin. Though Grandfather loathed the very thought of me as his heir, he abhorred the idea of a French relative inheriting the title even more. So I was the lesser of two evils.”
Devlin could still remember when he’d been carted off to Huntington Court to meet with his grandfather for the first time. He’d been hopeful that the old man would be pleased to meet him, but as soon as he’d arrived, Devlin realized how wrong he’d been. “My grandfather made it very plain, upon first laying eyes upon me, exactly what he thought of my low-born, filthy blood, as he called it.”
There was a look of heartache in Sophie’s gaze. “How could he be so cruel to a boy so young and who had just lost his parents?”
“It was not all that bad; barely one month after arriving, I was sent to Eton to board there. It was only over the holidays that I had to return and endure his beatings.” Being sent away to school was the only kind thing the old man had ever done for him.
“He used to beat you?” She sounded so shocked and outraged on his behalf, he couldn’t help but feel a warmth spread through him.
“Only until I was fourteen. By then, I was big enough to fight back.” He could still remember the surge of satisfaction he’d felt when he was finally old enough to stand up to his grandfather and see the look of fear and outrage in the man’s eyes. “The fact that he could not punish me physically anymore enraged him, and that was when he let slip that he was responsible for my parents’ deaths. That it was he who had paid someone to tamper with the carriage wheels, and that it was I who should have been the one to die and not my father. That was the day I left Huntington Court, never to return until his death.”
He looked toward Sophie and noticed some tears straying from the corner of her eyes. “Do not be sad,” he said to her as he raised his hand up to her cheek and brushed aside the wayward drops. “It happened well over five and twenty years ago. Besides, I have had my revenge. I am quite content to know that he would be rolling around in his grave at how I turned the fortunes of the title around through my trading enterprises.”
“I cannot believe anyone, let alone your grandfather, could have been so cruel.”
Devlin laughed bitterly. “Can you not? What about me, Sophie? Some say I am exactly like my grandfather.”
“You are nothing like that monster! You could murder no one,” she vehemently declared.
“I very nearly did kill him, when I found out of his treachery.” Devlin could still remember confronting the bitter old man, barely able to restrain himself from the powerful need to pummel him. To wipe the smirk from his evil, twisted face. Sometimes he regretted walking away.
“And who could blame you?” Sophie replied. “The man was a heartless monster, Devlin.”
“And what of forcing you into agreeing to marry me?” He still wasn’t proud of doing such a thing. And though he’d never had qualms over his past dealings before, he found himself feeling unaccountably uncomfortable over having forced Sophie’s hand. “Is that not heartless and cruel?”
Like a headmistress, she glowered fiercely at him. “Stop it at once. You are nothing like your grandfather. Besides, you did not force me into agreeing to marry you.”
Of course he did. She was just too kind hearted to acknowledge it. “I as much forced you into agreeing to my proposal as if I had held a gun to your head.” Though he couldn’t deny that a part of him would do it again in a heartbeat, even with his misgivings.
She threw her hands into the air. “Now you are sounding as melodramatic as my aunt.”
Good Lord, he hoped not. “A worry to be sure.”
“I admit that you dangled a very enticing carrot in my face,” she allowed. “However, you knew of my reasons for not marrying, so I do suppose you thought that I must have a compelling enough reason to agree to your proposal.”
He reached across and pulled her onto his lap once again. He looked into the depths of her emerald eyes and then leaned his forehead against her own. “You do like to see the best in people, do you not?” Thank goodness.
