The Regency Season: Decadent Dukes

He moaned as his lips moved to her cheek, the length of her throat, the creamy tops of her breasts. “I have hungered for this again since the day I met you, Anna. For the taste of you. For you,” he murmured urgently, knowing he spoke the truth, and that he had thought of little else, and no one else, since the two of them had first met six days ago.

“Rufus?”

“Yes, I am Rufus!” he urged fiercely. “Not Northamptonshire. Not a duke. With you I am only Rufus,” he insisted urgently.

She looked up at him searchingly. “What is it you want from me?” she finally murmured softly.

“Everything!” he assured her heatedly, his gaze feverish. “I’ve longed to be with you again, to touch you again,” he murmured achingly. “Will you allow me?” His hands were against the buttons at the back of her gown.

Anna swallowed before answering, knowing she should say no, that she would regret this madness tomorrow. That she would have time to regret it for the rest of her life.

But it was a regret she knew would be all the deeper if she now went against the dictates of her heart. She needed this memory with Rufus in order to make the rest of her life bearable without him.

“Yes,” she breathed shyly.

Rufus unfastened her gown before gently tugging down the loosened material to reveal her breasts covered only by the thinness of her chemise. “You are so beautiful, Anna,” he groaned as he revealed her rose-coloured nipples. “Do they ache, Anna?” He ran his fingertips across the tips. “Are they hot and aching for me to kiss them?” he encouraged raspily even as he lowered his head and took a rosy nipple into the heat of his mouth.

Anna was so awash with sensation, in the unmistakeable knowledge of Rufus’s passion, and the desire he voiced for her so fiercely, she was unable to do anything more than arch her back as she groaned her surrender and gave herself up completely to the pleasure of being in his arms.

“You are so lovely,” he murmured as the heat of his mouth moved to pay homage to her other breast. “So very lovely,” he groaned before suckling the roused nipple deep into his mouth, lathing with his tongue, biting gently with sharp and stimulating teeth.

Rufus had never felt so aroused as he did making love to Anna. So deeply inflamed that he wanted to give her pleasure, to pleasure her, until she belonged to him completely. Anna. His Anna, whether she knew it yet or not.

He was moved by her beauty, entertained by her feistiness, enthralled with her delicious body. Her breasts were perfect, the taste of her nipples as addictive as her mouth, the skin of her thighs so silky soft as he caressed their length beneath her gown, between her thighs so wet and inviting as he touched her through the slit in her drawers.

“Rufus?” she gasped as he eased a finger inside the moist heat of her.

“Let me, love,” he encouraged softly as he eased a second finger inside her, her inner muscles grasping his fingers, at the same time as he pressed his thumb rhythmically against her pulsing core.

Rufus suckled one of her nipples deeply into his mouth as he continued to stroke his fingers inside her, Anna arching against him as his thumb pressed harder against her.

His.

This woman was his.

“Rufus!” Anna cried out at the unimagined pleasure coursing wildly through every inch of her body, her hands clinging on to the muscled hardness of Rufus’s shoulders as she arched up into his invading fingers. She needed— Oh goodness, she needed—

“Let go for me, Anna!” Rufus encouraged gruffly.

“I do not know how!” She shook her head from side to side as the pleasure seemed almost too much to bear.

“Let go, love,” he groaned harshly. “Just let go!”

Anna gave another gasp as his words triggered something deep inside her and her pleasure washed over her in wave after wave of ecstasy such as Anna had never thought of or imagined in her wildest daydreams.

His, Rufus groaned in satisfaction, unrelenting as he rode Anna’s climax to the very end of her pleasure. Until she lay limp and gasping in his arms, her eyes fever bright as she looked up at him in wonder.

“Tell me you want me too, Anna,” Rufus urged hotly; his arousal a painful ache between his thighs. “Tell me I can have all of you.”

“Rufus?” She looked up at him dazedly, uncomprehending.

“There is no one here to stop us,” he explained heatedly. “Watkins will not return until he is called for, and your brother is occupied in the village.”

Anna was breathing hard as she slowly came back to her senses and realised the intimacies she had allowed to happen. Exactly what her wanton hungers, her desire for excitement and adventure, had led her into doing.

And how much Rufus would despise her once he also came back to his senses.

Her face paled even as she pulled herself out of his arms before moving quickly down to the bottom of the chaise and getting back onto her feet, her legs trembling as she turned away from him to pull her chemise and gown up over her swollen breasts.

What had she done? How could she have allowed this to happen?

To have allowed Rufus to touch her so intimately, and the building of that unbearable pleasure, so quickly followed by the release she could still feel between her thighs.

She had not realised when she gave herself up to his desire for her. Had not known where, or how far, her own passions would take her.

It was too much.

Rufus was too much.

He was also, no matter how much he might try to dismiss it, the Duke of Northamptonshire. And Anna would never be any more to him than another conquest. A woman to amuse him while he was in Banbury, so far away from the sophisticated amusements and equally sophisticated women he usually enjoyed in London.

She was merely an amusement to him.

A diversion, nothing more.

Anna had never met a man like Rufus before. A man so handsome. So self-assured. So intelligent. So wickedly amusing. So achingly, sinfully attractive.

She had realised the moment she’d seen him again that night, and the idea had grown as the two of them talked, as he made such delicious love to her just now, that somehow over the past six days her fascination with him had turned to budding love. A love that had burst into full bloom tonight. She was in love with Rufus Drake, the wickedly handsome Duke of Northamptonshire.

The fact that her heart was now breaking at that knowledge, as she now felt broken, would be of no interest to him. As she would be of no interest to him once he was back amongst his sophisticated London friends.

And she would not, could not, allow him to see, or even guess, her feelings for him, and the heartbreak of loving him. That would be the ultimate humiliation.

She raised her chin determinedly. “I had thought the droit du seigneur to have been abandoned several centuries ago?”

Rufus was taken aback. “You misunderstand my intentions totally.”

“I do not think so,” Anna murmured dismissively. “You invited my brother and me to dine here with you this evening, and then immediately proceeded to kiss me, to make love to me, the moment he was out of the room. You then pointed out that there is no one here to stop your attentions. And you— I— I am so ashamed!” She buried her face in her hands.

Rufus had done all of those things, but only because he had been so happy to be alone with Anna again. To be able to hold her. To make love to her.

He had obviously frightened her with the intensity of that lovemaking.

These possessive feelings were utterly new to him. Unprecedented. But that did not mean Rufus was not completely aware of what they were. What they meant to him. What Anna meant to him.

He had awoken every day these past six days full of anticipation, buoyant in the knowledge that he might see her again. Not only had he never before met a woman he desired as much as he did her, but he admired her intelligence, her sense of adventure, that wild imagination that had come up with the story of the kitten up in the tree. Anna made him laugh, at himself as much as anything else, and not in the bored or jaded way of his London friends.

She was also wise beyond her years in the way in which she had understood and soothed his feelings at the churchyard this morning. She’d helped him to see that life must be grasped, seized, before it was too late.

“Contrary to what you may think of me, Your Grace, I am not one of your London trollops!” Anna snapped as she turned her back on him, obviously waiting for him to refasten her gown.

Rufus frowned as he slowly refastened the tiny buttons. “I would never think that of you…”

“Nor,” she continued firmly as she stepped away from him, “am I a country bumpkin, who would feel so flattered and grateful for the attentions of a duke, that she would simply throw herself down and worship at your feet.”

This was why he wanted her, Rufus acknowledged ruefully. Because Anna, and damn it she would be his Anna, had shown him again this evening that she was not in the least in awe of him or his title. Instead she had treated him as if he were just the wicked gentleman she had met in the woods six days ago.

Rufus could not hold back a smile. “I believe I had in mind another part of my anatomy entirely which you might go down upon your knees and worship.”

She drew in an indignant breath, even as her gaze moved to the front of his black pantaloons, where the evidence of his arousal was unmistakeable.

Her mouth firmed as she glared at him. “You, sir, are a cad. A lecher. A despoiler of innocents— I fail to see what is so amusing!” she snapped as he began to laugh.

“Ye gods, Anna,” Rufus continued to chuckle. “I cannot wait to take you to London and introduce you to my friends, and most especially to my cousin Zachary!” He had no doubts that his cousin, of all the Dangerous Dukes, would understand exactly why and how this young woman had burrowed so deeply beneath Rufus’s skin in so short a time.

Anna was a prize beyond any jewels, or any amount of money, was beyond freedom, beyond anything that Rufus had previously so highly valued in his life.

“What are you suggesting?” Anna looked at him in alarm. “That you would like to take me to London with you when you leave so that the two of you might share me in your bed?”

“Absolutely not,” Rufus’s humour faded as quickly as it had arisen, his expression grim as he stepped forward determinedly before once again placing his fingers beneath her chin and tilting her face up towards his, his lids narrowed in warning. “You will never be with any other man, Anna. No other man will ever be allowed to see your nakedness but me. Do you understand me?”

No, Anna did not understand him at all. She knew she had been playing with fire when she had thought him merely a gentleman passing through the area the day they met in the woods. She had behaved even more recklessly this evening, when her longings had allowed him to make love to her so pleasurably.

But this man, the arrogant words of this duke, were surely beyond her comprehension.

Except he seemed to be suggesting he would happily take her back to London with him when he went. As his mistress?

And perhaps she deserved such disrespect from him. Perhaps her shameful actions this evening had led him to assume, to believe, that she would accept such a role in his life.

“I understand you perfectly,” she nodded abruptly.

Rufus looked down at her searchingly. “Do you?”

“Oh yes,” Anna acknowledged dully. “I do not believe I will wait for your carriage to take me home. It is a warm and sunny evening, and I would prefer to walk.”

“Anna—”

“Please do not say anything more to me this evening, Rufus.”

Tears stung her eyes as she looked at him pleadingly. “I could not bear it.”

Rufus frowned as he saw how deeply upset Anna was. No doubt because of their lovemaking earlier; he should not have allowed things to go as far as they had. Except he could not regret having touched and caressed her, having made love to her. Or deny the need he felt to caress and make love to her again as soon as was possible.

But not like this. Not with these misunderstandings standing between them.

He nodded abrupt acceptance of her decision to leave. “You will return to the parsonage in my carriage, as I assured your brother that you would.” He rang for Watkins. “I will only agree not to accompany you,” he continued as she seemed about to protest yet again, “on the condition you agree to meet me at two of the clock tomorrow afternoon at our pond—”

“No.”

“Yes, Anna.” Rufus knew that his own eyes must be as fiercely determined as her own.

He may not have wanted to become a duke, but there was no denying he was one, and in this particular instance, he intended to behave like one.

“Be there at two of the clock, Anna, unless you wish for your brother to know the extent of our friendship,” Rufus’s tone was soft, but nevertheless brooked no further argument.

Watkins knocked quietly on the door before entering the room. Rufus issued his instructions for the carriage, and waited for the other man to leave before turning back to Anna.

She frowned. “You would not really do that?”

No, of course Rufus would not do that, but he was determined that Anna would meet with him tomorrow. “Do not press me, Anna,” he advised gently.

She looked at him searchingly for several long seconds before her lashes lowered and she gave a slight nod of acceptance. “Very well. I will meet you at two o’clock tomorrow afternoon.”

“At our pond,” he pressed.

“At the pond,” she corrected purposefully.

Rufus stood at the window and watched a few minutes later as Anna hurried down the front steps of the house before stepping quickly up into his carriage.

As if the Hounds of Hell were at her heels.

Or the man who was determined to have her for his own.

Chapter Seven

The challenging expression on Anna’s face when the two of them met at the pond the following day was not at all encouraging to Rufus in regard to his hopes of a successful outcome to the conversation to come.

He felt a clenching in his chest at how distant Anna seemed to him today, not in proximity, but in every other way that mattered. She looked beautiful of course, ethereally so, in a cream gown with her curls pure gold beneath the sun’s rays. But her eyes were a dark and wary blue in the pallor of her face as she looked up at him, her mouth unsmiling.

She set her chin stubbornly. “Could we please get this conversation over with as quickly as possible?” her voice was brittle, as breakable as she appeared to be. “I have visits to make in the village this afternoon on my brother’s behalf.”

Rufus eyed her quizzically. “Why are you lying to me again, Anna?”

Colour suffused her cheeks. “I am not.”

“Yes, I am afraid you are,” Rufus rebuked gently as he crossed the short distance between them to stand directly in front of her. “My conversation this morning with your brother would have ensured he did not send you off on errands today.”

“You have spoken to Mark?” she gasped, the colour once again draining from her cheeks. “But…I did not see you at the parsonage.”

“We met at the church.”

“Why?” Anna gave a pained groan. “What did you say to him? Did you complain of my behaviour yesterday evening? Tell him of my wantonness?” Tears stung her eyes at thoughts of that humiliation.

The same tears that had been falling down Anna’s cheeks for all of the night and most of this morning. Tears of humiliation for her wanton behaviour yesterday evening. The tears of knowing she was in love with a man who would never, could never, return that love.

Anna had thought her life empty before this, her heart, her soul, hungering for something. But the thought of Rufus soon returning to London, of not seeing so much as a glimpse of him again for months, possibly years, filled her heart with a despair she could never have imagined.

To the point she had even considered accepting his offer that she return to London with him and become his mistress, for however long such arrangements lasted.

Only to sob even harder as she was forced to dismiss such a notion; such an arrangement may bring her some measure of happiness for a short time, but she could never bring such disgrace upon her brother by behaving in such a scandalous manner. And she could not avoid the pain that the end of such an alliance would bring.

No, the only course left open to her was to accept there was no future for herself with a man like Rufus, and to behave with all the dignity her deceased mother and father would have expected from her.

“I would not break my word to you in that way, Anna,” Rufus reassured. “Nor do I have any complaints about your behaviour yesterday evening. On the contrary.”

“Could we please not discuss the events of yesterday evening?” She turned sharply away from him, her lace-gloved hands tightly clasped together in front of her. “It is enough for us both to know it was a mistake. An aberration, brought about by…by…”

“Brought about by what, Anna?” Rufus prompted softly.

She gave an agitated shake of her head. “You are the more experienced one of us, so perhaps you will tell me what it was brought about by?”

His expression gentled. “Desire. Arousal. Love.”

“I do not lo—” Anna stopped as she realised she was about to tell him yet another lie.

She did love Rufus. So very, very much. So much that it was breaking her heart to be with him again, just to be near him and know he could never be hers.

Rufus stepped forward to place his hands upon the slenderness of Anna’s shoulders, deeply distressed at seeing her so upset. “Anna, the only reason I spoke with your brother this morning was because I needed to ask his permission before I dare ask you to marry me.”

“No! No, no, no!” she cried emotionally as the tears cascaded unchecked down the paleness of her cheeks. “I cannot— I will not allow you to. Your honour is not in question, Rufus,” she assured him in a throaty voice. “I am the one who was at fault yesterday evening. I am the one who allowed you to make love to me. No man could have refused what I so freely offered. You should not now feel— I will not hear of your offering to marry me because of my wantonness.” She began to cry in earnest.

Rufus’s heart had plummeted as Anna protested so vehemently against the idea of marrying him, only to feel ravaged as she offered up words of self-condemnation.

His heart now felt as if it were being wrenched from his chest as he witnessed the heartbreak of her tears.

He enfolded her tightly in his arms, his cheek resting against the silky softness of her golden curls. “I know we have not known each other for long, Anna, and that you will need time to feel for me as I do for you, but— Do you believe in love at first sight, Anna?” he prompted. “Do you believe it is possible to look at a person and know, instinctively know, that you are meant to be with that person for the rest of your life?”

Anna stilled in his arms before slowly pulling back to look up at him searchingly. “I do not— Are you saying that is what has happened to you? That you love me?”

“Oh yes,” Rufus confirmed. “I admit I have spent all my adult life in total ignorance of the emotion, which is perhaps why I did not immediately recognise it for what it was, and instead believed it to be desire rather than love. But I am in no doubts now of my feelings, Anna. I cannot live without you by my side.” He had known it three days ago when the two of them had spoken in the churchyard. Had been totally convinced of it when they’d made love together last night. “I spoke to your brother this morning, before discussing it with you, only because it was the right thing to do, the gentlemanly thing to do.” He reached up to cradle each side of her face, his eyes gazing unwaveringly into hers as his thumbs stroked the tears from her cheeks. “I am deeply in love with you, Anna Juliet Bishop, and will always be so. And I would deem it an honour, a privilege, if you would one day consider becoming my wife.”

Anna gazed up at him in stunned disbelief, never having thought to hear such words from Rufus. From her wicked duke. From the sinful gentleman she had last night realised she loved with all her heart.

All of those reasons caused her doubts to linger. “Are you sure, Rufus?” She gave a shake of her head. “I would not want you to feel obligated into offering me marriage.”

“I have never allowed feelings of obligation to determine my actions, Anna,” he assured her dryly. “And certainly not when it comes to the taking of a wife!” he added teasingly before sobering again. “I admit to having behaved something of a rake these past ten or twelve years, but that is because I did not know otherwise. As I tried to explain this to you on Saturday morning at the church. You have changed me, Anna,” he assured earnestly. “My love for you has changed me, so much so that I no longer want any other woman but you. And I know that I never will. Will you at least give me leave to court you, Anna? To woo you, so that perhaps one day you might learn to feel that same love for me?”

Anna felt as if her heart had swollen with so much emotion it might burst out of her chest at any moment.

Rufus had told her he loved her!

More than that, he had said he did not feel obligated to offer for her but that he wished to marry her.

That he wanted to make her his forever beloved wife.

By loving her, by wishing to marry her, to be with her forever, Rufus offered her the freedom she had so restlessly hungered for all her life.

What better freedom was there than to love and be loved? To be with the man she loved, and who loved her? Forever.

“I already love you, Rufus.” Anna knew her face glowed as she gazed up at him with all of that love shining in her eyes.

“You do?” His eyes darkened with emotion as he looked down at her searchingly. “Can you possibly? Is it really possible you are in love with me, my darling Anna?” He looked uncharacteristically uncertain.

An uncertainty that caused Anna’s heart to ache. “I love you so very much. From that first moment, too, I believe. I just— I did not believe that you could ever feel the same way about someone like me.”

“There is no one else like you, Anna!” Rufus assured gruffly as he held her fiercely in his arms. “You are unique. You are perfect. You are my beloved. Will you marry me, Anna, and make me the happiest man in the world? Will you be my duchess? The mother of our children?”

Anna’s heart leapt at the realisation that if she said yes to his marriage proposal she would not only become Rufus’s wife but also a duchess. “I am only the daughter of a parson.” She reminded him then.

“And I am only a duke because of tragic family losses and being the unfortunate third grandson of a duke,” Rufus assured wryly. “Can you not see how perfect we are for each other, Anna—the unexpected duke and the parson’s daughter!” He looked almost boyish as he grinned down at her.

She winced. “It sounds like the title of a melodrama.”

“To me it sounds like heaven,” Rufus contradicted huskily. “Say yes, Anna. Say yes, and we shall have your brother marry us as soon as is possible, and then we shall leave England and go on an extended honeymoon. Would you like that, Anna?” he prompted as he saw the excitement glowing in her eyes. “Shall we leave England for a while and travel together, not to the Continent, because it is not safe as yet, but to all the other exotic places that so call to your heart?”

Rufus really did know her, Anna acknowledged wonderingly. He knew her and what was in her heart.