Educating Elizabeth

Chapter 5

Elizabeth was unprepared for her first sight of the duke's daughter. Somehow, despite her knowledge of Eloise's parentage, she had imagined the girl would be a mirror image of the duke. To her surprise, Eloise appeared French to her very fingertips. Her skin was tinted olive and her brown eyes were so dark that they seemed jet-black. Although her figure tended toward plumpness, her vivacious personality gave her a liveliness hard to resist.

Eloise accepted the duke's explanation for Elizabeth's presence without question. She soon engaged Elizabeth in conversation, eager to practice her broken English and learn about the delights of London. For Elizabeth, sore at heart from losing her half-sister's companionship, Eloise was a joy.

The duke lingered only long enough to make the necessary introductions before leaving the two women with Eloise's French nurse, the motherly Madame Bonnet.

Eloise smiled at Elizabeth as Madame Bonnet rang for some tea. "My papa is very kind, is he not? He has promised me the most magnificent London Season if I complete a year at Miss Granger's in Bath." She leaned forward and pressed Elizabeth's hand. "It is sad that you are a widow, but my papa will take care of you."

For the next few days, Elizabeth explored London with Eloise and her liking for the girl deepened. She suffered a few qualms of conscience, however, when Eloise tentatively inquired about her supposedly deceased "husband." The duke, true to his word, had provided Elizabeth with all the salient details pertaining to her supposed spouse. When Eloise expressed her sympathy, Elizabeth felt like a traitor and redoubled her efforts to please the duke's daughter.

A week after Eloise's arrival, they arrived back from a shopping expedition laden down with packages to find a note from the duke.

"It is from my papa. He asks us to the theater this evening." Eloise clasped her hands to her ample bosom and spun around. "Oh whatever shall I wear? Madame Bonnet, come and 'elp me."

Eloise disappeared into her bedroom and Elizabeth turned to enter her own. To her surprise, a new black evening gown lay on her bed. With trembling hands, she picked up a small beribboned box and a note beside the dress. Elizabeth held the gown against her body and marveled at its excellent cut and subdued elegance. The bodice was covered with jet beads, which were also scattered around the skirts of the gown, catching the light when she moved. It was the perfect dress for a society widow.

She opened the note and read the short message aloud: "Wear this dress for me tonight and only what is in the box. I don't intend to sit through another evening without knowing exactly what you are wearing beneath your skirts."

Intrigued and slightly apprehensive, she hurried to open the box. She pulled out a neatly folded black corset, a pair of black stockings, garters, and nothing else. She bit her lip and upended the box in a hopeless search for petticoats or the newfangled and scandalous drawers but there were none. She stuffed everything back into the box and sat down at her dressing table.

Given the innocent companionship of his daughter, she had almost forgotten her more base agreement with the duke. Thoughts swirled through her mind as she unpinned her hair and brushed out the tight braids. Could she ask the duke for a reprieve? Could she avoid his bed by offering to stay on as Eloise's companion and remaining disguised as a widow?

She pictured the duke's face. She had made a bargain with him and it behooved her to stick to it. She would hate it if the duke thought her a coward. Her future was as a courtesan. It was the only way to support herself and her brother. Maybe the duke was testing her obedience. They would be in a public place, with his daughter. He was hardly likely to seduce her there!

The duke came up to their suite well before the appointed hour for the play and spent some time with Eloise and Madame Bonnet. Elizabeth was relieved to see that there appeared to be genuine affection between father and daughter despite the duke's animosity toward the girl's mother. She was glad for, Eloise's sake, and surprised to see the softness of the duke's face as he humored her many requests.

He barely glanced her way and she was glad of it. He wore a pewter-colored coat with a black embroidered waistcoat beneath. His pantaloons were pale satin and fit him without a wrinkle. Elizabeth found herself crossing her legs and worrying at her lower lip as he finally looked up and studied her.

With an abrupt movement he rose to his feet and spoke in rapid French. Eloise and Madame Bonnet disappeared to find their cloaks and Elizabeth was left alone with the duke. He strolled toward her and she immediately sat up straight.

"Well, my dear?" He took her hand and helped her rise. "Do you like your dress?"

"Yes, thank you, Your Grace. It is beautiful."

"Good," he murmured and she shivered as he ran the tip of his finger along the edge of her beaded bodice, outlining the uppermost curves of her breasts. Her nipples tightened as she fought for breath. Eloise's excited chatter flowed in through the open door.

The duke didn't pull away and Elizabeth realized she was hidden from Eloise's sight by the duke's broad shoulders. To her horror, she found it impossible to do anything but stare up at his face like a besotted lap dog being petted as his finger stroked back and forth.

"Beautiful..." he breathed before brushing her cheek with his lips. He turned away to help Eloise with her cloak and Elizabeth hurried to find her own, more flustered than she cared to admit and more confused than ever.

The theater was already crowded when the duke ushered his party into the luxurious confines of his private box. Eloise, dressed in a primrose muslin gown that complimented her olive complexion, chattered unceasingly in a mixture of broken English and rapid French that Elizabeth tried to follow.

She watched the duke survey the swirling mass of humanity below them. Numerous women from all the social classes attempted to catch his attention, but to Elizabeth's relief, he seemed oblivious. Occasionally, he would honor some male acquaintance with a slight nod of his head.

Elizabeth sank into the nearest velvet chair and allowed the magnificence of the view to overwhelm her senses. She had not been to the theater for several years and had missed it badly. Raucous shouts rose from the lower levels in sharp counterpoint to the discreet rustles and whispers from the tiered seats and boxes. In the pit, candlelight glinted off raised bottles and the quizzing glasses of the young bloods that lounged close to the stage waiting to ogle the actresses. In the boxes above, the same light caught the brilliance of diamonds and fine crystal.

The duke took the seat to her left, cutting her off from the others in the box, and allowed his black cloak to fall from his shoulders. Elizabeth's mouth went dry as he uncoiled his powerful frame and settled into the chair, one leg crossed over the over. The lights dimmed and the gaudy purple and gold curtain began to rise. Elizabeth attempted to sit forward but the angle of the duke's knee prevented her.

The play started and Elizabeth was soon caught up in the witty, provocative dialogue. Intrigued, she leaned forward again, this time ignoring the pressure of the duke's hard thigh against her knee. She laughed out loud as the plot of the play became more convoluted and the acting more inventive. It was only when she sat back that she realized the duke had positioned his arm along the back of her chair.

His hand dropped to the curve of her neck and held her pinned to the back of her seat. She sat awkwardly, amazed that even through the fabric of his coat she could feel the heat from his skin against her bare shoulder. His gloved fingers traced a lazy path down past her throat and settled over the bodice of her gown.

Unable to breathe, and unable to turn her eyes away from the stage, Elizabeth stiffened as the duke's finger and thumb dipped below the line of her bodice and closed around her right breast. She fought an urge to squeak as a curious warmth hardened her nipple, sending rivulets of heat straight down to her stomach. The duke bent his head and bit down gently on her neck, which somehow seemed to intensify the strangely pleasurable sensation.

A ripple of applause and a few coarse shouts from the bear pit signaled that the first act had ended. The curtains swished across the garish stage and the lights went up. A roar of conversation erupted from the audience, who milled around seeking refreshments or acquaintances. The duke released his hold on Elizabeth with a leisurely ease far removed from her panic and stood up as the door to their box opened to admit a crowd of visitors.

Elizabeth slid into the duke's vacated seat and eased back into the shadows as she searched for composure. Why had she thought that she would be safe in public? By her own admission, the duke was a notorious rake. She was only experiencing at first hand why he had garnered such a reputation. It took her several minutes before she was able to pay attention to the other occupants of the box.

Eloise was the center of attention and seemed to enjoy the experience. The duke stood back, allowing her to shine, yet indicating by his very presence that Eloise was his daughter and thus well guarded. To her secret dismay, Elizabeth couldn't stop staring at the duke. He seemed quite unaffected by the sensations he had stirred in her.

"Elizabeth, you are staring."

The sensual understanding in the duke's cool, amused gaze negated his low-voiced reproof and Elizabeth blushed. With indecent haste, she averted her gaze and concentrated on watching the crowds below her. When the play resumed, the duke took the seat to her right. Her hard-won composure fragmented as he continued to turn her body into an unsettled mass of frustrated desire.

She was not sure whether to be pleased or disappointed when the play ended. The duke moved away from her to aid Eloise and Madame Bonnet with their possessions. Elizabeth stretched to relieve the tension in her shoulders and felt the silk lining of her bodice ripple over her tender, aroused flesh. She shivered as the duke ushered Eloise and Madame Bonnet out of the curtained doorway and then turned back to her.

Her throat went dry when he held out her cloak and beckoned her forward. She moved obediently toward him and stood still as he encircled her with his arms and tied the black silk ribbons at her throat. She sighed as his knuckles brushed the sensitive skin he had brought to life. His eyes narrowed and within a heartbeat he had her pressed against the back wall of the box. His lips found hers and his tongue thrust deep inside her mouth.

She realized with a faint stab of unease that she didn't want to fight him or push him away, even when he slid his hand under her skirts. His mouth continued to possess hers as he reached the apex of her thighs and fitted his gloved palm to her heated flesh.

"Your Grace?"

The interruption had Elizabeth fighting to be free and the duke muttering a curse against her neck. He turned, shielding her and accepted his hat and cloak from the maidservant. He shrugged into his cloak, jammed on his hat and offered his arm to Elizabeth with a wry smile.

"May I escort you to the carriage?"

"Thank you, Your Grace. It has been a most enjoyable evening."

She tried not to grip his arm too tightly as they threaded their way through the crowds that lingered on the grand staircase. She glimpsed Eloise's dark head at the door and the sheen of the duke's sleek carriage beyond her.

"Darling!"

A petite blonde woman dressed in the height of fashion attached herself to the duke's free arm, blocking Elizabeth's view of Eloise and safety. Elizabeth released the duke but not before the other woman shot her a venomous glare.

The duke disentangled himself from the blonde woman and with remarkable dexterity managed to keep a grip on Elizabeth's elbow.

"Lady Masterton. How delightful. Are you here with Captain Draycourt or did Lord Clevedon escort you tonight?"

Elizabeth cringed as she registered an edge to the duke's voice, a tone she remembered from their first unpleasant encounter.

Lady Masterton pouted, which did nothing to dim her extraordinary beauty, and leaned forward, her fingers resting on the duke's forearm, her bosom propped up alongside.

"You have not been near me for a week, Gervase. Do you expect me to pine away?"

Even Elizabeth recognized the deliberate provocation in Lady Masterton's question. She tried to ease out of the duke's grasp but he refused to release her. He smiled and Elizabeth felt almost sorry for the woman in front of her.

"I believe I mentioned that I had been indisposed?"

Lady Masterton's pointed nails dug into the duke's immaculate coat, creasing the fine cloth, and he frowned.

"I received your note." She wriggled the fingers of her right hand and a huge diamond caught the light. "And your gift. Thank you darling."

The duke removed her hand from his arm and crushed her fingers within his own.

"Consider it a parting gift, my dear. I don't share, especially with a man like Lord Clevedon, who boasts of his conquests in his cups."

He kissed Lady Masterton's rigid fingers and dropped them with deliberate haste as though he had picked up something unclean. Elizabeth looked away from the naked fury in Lady Masterton's celestial blue eyes.

"You are a fool, Gervase. You will never find a woman as talented as I am in bed," Lady Masterton hissed. "You will never find my equal."

The duke bowed and half-turned, displaying his indifferent profile to Elizabeth. "I hesitate to contradict you Emilia, but I don't believe I shall have to look far." He paused and lowered his voice. "In fact, my dear, I will set out for the docks now." He raised an eyebrow. "Who knows what slut I will find to better you in the nearest doorway?"

Lady Masterton stood as if rooted to the spot. Two patches of red stained her cheeks and clashed with her pink rouge. The people around her began to whisper and titter as the duke's words were passed from mouth to mouth with the speed and velocity of fast flowing water.

Elizabeth felt the duke tug at her hand and she followed him out into the crowded street. A capricious movement in the crowd threw her up against him.

"You did not have to make me witness that appalling display of bad manners, Your Grace."

"Do you wish me to bed her whilst I instruct you? I meant what I said. I don't share and I don't bed more than one woman at a time."

"This is not about your peculiar code of ethics. You simply wanted me to see how you dispose of troublesome women."

For a long moment, he held her close as the press of people flowed around them. "I forget how astute you are, my dear Mrs. Waterstone." He brushed the corner of her mouth with his thumb. "Perhaps you are right. I can only hope it has left the correct impression on you."

Elizabeth excused herself the moment they entered the suite at Grillons and went to her bedroom. Her head had begun to pound and she sought relief by dismantling the fashionable hairstyle the maid had arranged for her earlier. Thanks to the duke's attentions, her breasts ached. She crossed her arms around herself in an attempt to relieve the pressure.

The soft click of her door lock made her spin around to find the duke leaning against the wall. His silver gaze swept over her before he walked further into the room.

"It is interesting, is it not, how your body has begun to accept me and even grow used to my attentions whilst your mind still struggles?"

"I don't know what you are talking about, Your Grace."

The duke sat down on the patterned silk chaise lounge beside the fireplace.

"You have a lot to learn, Elizabeth, and as you made such an excellent start tonight I thought I would continue the lesson."

"Yes, Your Grace? What do you wish of me?"

He smiled and to her dismay her body stirred in anticipation. "That is an interesting question, my dear, and one that you, as a courtesan, should be able to answer if you wish to anticipate and provide for your lover's every whim."

"I think that a good mistress would offer you a drink and then discuss the play." She smoothed down her skirts. "What would you like to drink, Your Grace?"

His appreciative gaze followed her across the room. "I would like a brandy, my dear and I suggest you have one yourself." He waited while she poured the drinks with a remarkably steady hand and patted the seat beside him.

Walking carefully, so as not to tip the brandy, Elizabeth sat next to him. He murmured his thanks as he took the glass and brought it to his lips. She sipped at her own brandy and then placed the glass down on the table.

"You judged my mood well, Elizabeth. If I had wished to bed you, I would not have bothered with conversation. I would simply have placed you on the bed, unbuttoned my breeches and had you."

She pressed a hand to her cheek and felt the heat flare on her skin.

"Luckily for you this evening, I wish to be amused. Tell me what you thought of the play."

Almost giddy with relief, Elizabeth forgot her shyness as she argued with the duke about the themes of the play and its current production. In her enjoyment, she cast off her slippers and tucked her feet up underneath her skirts. It was not until she heard the clock strike one that she realized how late it was.

She glanced uncertainly at the duke when he made no move to leave and her constraint returned.

"Are you wondering what I will do to you now, my dear? Does your mind still fear what your body accepts?"

He caught her wrists and urged her closer until her hands rested on his waistcoat. "Kiss me, and maybe I will be satisfied enough to leave."

Elizabeth leaned into him, trying not to inhale his male scent, which affected her like the most potent champagne. His lips were warm as she opened her mouth to kiss him as deeply as he had kissed her. He gave a soft growl of appreciation and angled his head to give her greater access. One of her hands stole into his hair and caressed the nape of his neck.

He splayed his fingers across her back and rocked her slowly from side to side, tantalizing her already aroused senses, adding to the lingering warmth he had created earlier. She gasped as he slid her bodice sleeves down her arms and captured her breasts, rising like an offering from the black silk corset. The sudden heat of his palms and the flick of his fingertips over her hardening nipples made her shudder.

"I'm taking you to bed."

Her eyes flew open as she realized her feet were no longer on the floor. She curled her arms around his neck and fitted her body so tightly to his that she could feel his muscular frame from shoulder to knee. He carried her the few steps to the bed, settled her upon it, and followed her down.

He set about stripping her with an expertise and a speed that compared well with an experienced lady's maid. As he loomed over her a worm of unease filtered through her arousal. His expression was intent, his eyes narrowed in concentration.

"Your Grace, I'm not sure if..."

He placed a finger over her lips and smoothed the sheet over her, warming and shaping her flesh as he went. A glance downward revealed her whole body clearly outlined against the linen, the thrust of her nipples, the angles of her hips. He reclaimed her mouth in a deep kiss before retreating to the side of the bed. God, she wanted his hands on her, she wanted them under the sheet and all over her.

She tore her mouth away from his. "How do you remain so calm, so unaffected when I..."

He reached forward and captured her hand. They both shuddered as he pressed her palm to the front of his breeches where she encountered his cock in its entire hard, male splendor.

"I'm not unaffected by you." He leaned into her hand and his shaft jerked beneath her fingers. "What I don't understand is why you have this effect on me, my dear innocent. I'm not sure I like it one damned bit."