Kate Pearce - Educating Elizabeth

Enough to damage the whole of his delicate operation, he feared, and hid a sigh. "I don't want you attempting to crack the code this evening, Elizabeth. I want you to go straight to bed."

"Alone, or with you, Your Grace?"

Gervase held his breath as his body came alive at her shy invitation. Having sampled her delights on the previous night, his lustful nature craved more. He pictured her naked in his arms, offering herself to him. He could almost feel the slick heat of her against his hardened flesh as he slowly slid inside her, inch by pleasurable inch. His fingers tightened on his cane.

"Alone."

Her face colored at his rejection and when the carriage drew to a stop she fumbled with the door latch as if eager to escape him. With a lack of his usual finesse, he helped Elizabeth down the steps and into the arms of one of his footmen before he retreated into the carriage.

He glimpsed her startled face as he banged on the roof with his cane and the carriage moved swiftly away. He frowned down at his lap and willed his unwanted arousal to subside. If he was not careful, Elizabeth would consume his thoughts, and he might make the mistake of beginning to care for her. He could not allow that to happen. He didn't think he could bear the pain again.

His carriage drew up at the discreet and expensive brothel he normally favored with his custom. He stared at the front door through the carriage window for a long time. Yes, he ached for womanly flesh but the thought of touching anyone other than Elizabeth held no great appeal. He shouted out his orders to the coachman and the horses swept around in a wide circle and began the journey home.

Gervase drew in a deep breath, determined to resist the temptation the plain-speaking, far too intelligent Miss Elizabeth Waterstone offered him. He had to remember that she was but a small, insignificant cog in the workings of his master plan. They had made a bargain and he intended to honor it. Making a more permanent place for himself between her thighs was definitely not part of their agreement.

He smiled at his own arrogance as his carriage turned into the cobbled square and slowed down. Elizabeth might have a few things to say about his assumption that she would be glad to bed him. He should take a lesson from history and remember not to underestimate the importance of his own wonderfully annoying little cog.

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.