Kate Pearce - Educating Elizabeth

With the last remnant of his sanity, he remembered that he had to withdraw and pulled out. His hands moved blindly to support her hips as he spilled himself into oblivion.

Down in the hallway below, the front door slammed and voices echoed in the silence. Elizabeth couldn't have moved if her life depended on it. She tried to quiet her breathing and sensed the duke doing the same.

"God, I'm glad to be home," Nicholas said. "I hate hanging around those gaming hells and watching the unsuspecting flats being lured into the traps of the card sharps."

"Unfortunately, Nicholas, there are many who are unable to resist the excitement of gaming." Sir John's prosy voice had Elizabeth stifling a smile against the duke's shoulder.

"You are not exactly immune to the excitement yourself, are you?" Nicholas replied. "You were badly dipped tonight. I saw you scrawling vouchers with the best of them."

"Only in the interests of catching the spies, young Nicholas." Sir John sniffed. "Naturally, I would never gamble my own pitiful fortune away."

Nicholas gave a short laugh. "But you consider it acceptable to gamble away the duke's, do you?"

"Of course, it is my duty. He is so disgustingly wealthy that he will scarcely notice the loss." Elizabeth felt the duke's muscles tighten around her like the coils of a snake. "I wonder why he doesn't bother to go out and gamble his own money anymore."

"Are you blind, Sir John? The duke is far too busy spending cozy evenings with Mrs. Waterstone to want to go out on the town."

"Mrs. Waterstone and the duke?" Sir John's voice held a mixture of surprise and revulsion that made Elizabeth feel ashamed. She fought to disengage herself from the duke's arms but he held her tightly as Nicholas's voice faded in the direction of the kitchens. Elizabeth was just about to protest when the duke placed his hand over her mouth.

"The clever little bitch," Sir John whispered. "Mr. Forester will be pleased." His words floated up the stairwell and settled sickeningly in Elizabeth's stomach. The front door banged and the house grew still.

The duke let her slide to the floor and she stumbled into her bedroom. When the duke shut the door she turned to face him, her breathing uneven.

"Gervase, if you think I made love with you to please my stepfather, you are mistaken."

An uncharacteristic mixture of emotions flickered on the duke's face. "Indeed?"

Elizabeth lifted her chin. "If he had asked me to seduce you in order to forgo his debt I would have refused. The money I requested was not for him."

The duke inclined his head. "I never thought that it was, and, having met your stepfather, I can understand your dislike of him."

Elizabeth managed to breathe as the duke came forward to take her hand. "Now," he murmured. "Where were we?"

His mouth closed over hers and the questions she had regarding Sir John's strange behavior flew from her head as she surrendered to the duke's questing hands and the lure of his muscular body.

Gervase left her to sleep and walked through the deserted house down to Sir John's study. After locking away the code and tidying up the disordered desk, he lit a single candle and settled into Elizabeth's chair. When Sir John had made his incautious remark, Gervase had braced himself to face Elizabeth's suspicions. To his surprise, her major concern had been to convince him she was not allied to her stepfather. He had assumed she would ask about Mr. Forester and Sir John's relationship with him.

He angled the chair back and put his booted feet up on the corner of the desk. He had been quite willing to distract her with his lovemaking. He smiled and ran his tongue over his lips where her sweetness still lingered. She was an outstanding pupil both in and out of bed. He just had to think of a way to stop her agile mind from inquiring too deeply into his plans.

His lovemaking usually worked to distract her. But he feared that even he didn't have the stamina to ravish her night and day for as long as it took to break the code and find out the extent of Mr. Forester's involvement.

He blew out the candle and made his way back up to his bed, wishing with some small part of himself that he could rejoin Elizabeth in hers and stay with her until dawn. But that would not be wise, not be wise at all...

"What in God's name is going on?"

"I'm not sure, Your Grace, we found her like this."

Gervase shooed Sir John and Nicholas out of his way. Elizabeth lay slumped over her desk, her fingers curled around her quill pen, her cheek pressed into the scribbled sheet of parchment on her blotter. It was eight o'clock in the morning and Gervase had no inkling how long Elizabeth had been lying there. He felt for a pulse and went down on one knee beside her chair.

"Elizabeth?"

Her eyelids fluttered open and after a long distracted moment she focused on him. He flinched at the desolation in her gray eyes. "I cannot break the code," she croaked as he reached instinctively for her hand. "I'm too stupid."

A single tear ran down her pert nose. Gervase knew she hated to cry. A wave of tangled emotions swept through him and he reached forward to enfold her in his arms.

With a pitiful sob, she cuddled into him. He sat in her vacated chair and placed her on his lap. He rocked her as though she were a child, murmuring nonsense to her in both French and English whilst he smoothed his hands over her back.

After a while, her ink-stained hand crept around his neck and held him tight. Gervase produced a large handkerchief and gave it to her.

"You are too tired to break the code, not too stupid. I've pushed you too hard and I deeply regret it." She opened her mouth but he placed his finger across her lips. "I didn't ask you to speak, Elizabeth. I'm going to take you away for the weekend so that you can forget about the code and concentrate solely on pleasing yourself." He bent to brush a kiss on her ink stained cheek. "And me, of course."

Two hours later, Elizabeth sat opposite the duke in his luxuriously sprung traveling coach on her way to his country residence in Chipping Ongar, Essex. She couldn't believe the speed at which their removal was accomplished. She had done nothing but sleep, at the duke's autocratic command. When she had awoken, she put on her bonnet and cloak and they were off.

She was relieved to be free from the confines of the house and the torture of the intransigent code. Glad to be alone with the duke too, if she admitted the truth. She was so worried about her lack of progress that she had been unable to sleep and had crept down to her desk in the gray light of the dawn. The next thing she remembered was the duke calling her name.

The duke smiled. "Are you feeling a little better, my dear?"

"Yes, Your Grace, I feel much restored. I was just thinking how nice it is to be away from London."

He reached forward and took her gloved hand in his. "I'm glad that you feel that way, Elizabeth, for there is something I would ask of you." Elizabeth responded to the pressure on her hand and leaned toward him. "I want you to pretend that we have left Miss Elizabeth Waterstone, code breaker extraordinaire, at the London house." He smiled at her evident confusion and worked her glove from her hand. "I want you to pretend that you are the dashing widow, Mrs. Waterstone, off on an illicit weekend with her lover."

Elizabeth considered the duke's improper suggestion as he removed her other glove and tugged at the ribbons of her bonnet.

"What would a dashing widow do that a well brought-up young lady would not?" she asked.

"Sit beside me, for one thing."

Elizabeth moved to his side and he slid an arm around her shoulders. He kissed her with a thoroughness that made her weak and yet heated her senses at the same time. He angled her away from him and began to work free the buttons on her bodice.