When a Duke Loves a Governess (Unlikely Duchesses #3) - Olivia Drake Page 0,53

with many new experiences, becoming a governess, inventing ways to coax Lady Sophy into good behavior, learning about other lands. And by kissing Carlin. That had opened up a whole new world in and of itself. A world of desire and decadence the likes of which she’d never known.

All of a sudden, Orrin sprang forward to pull her against him. She snapped out of her reverie to realize that his face loomed mere inches from hers. “I want you t’ come home with me,” he declared. “You should be my wife, not a slave for some toplofty duke. He’ll never love you the way I do.”

Orrin lowered his head and mashed his lips against hers. Tessa was so shocked by his uncharacteristic behavior that she stood as stiff as a marble pillar. How different his wiry form felt in comparison with Carlin’s solid, muscled build. With Carlin, she had been swept away into a sea of excitement, the outside world fading until there was only the two of them. But Orrin inspired none of those soaring sensations. Nor did she lose herself in his arms. She felt the chilly air at her back and heard the clatter of a cart out in the mews. There was no rise of passion, no sense of being one body and soul.

Perhaps if she’d never known that thrilling ardor with Carlin, she might have been gratified by Orrin’s declaration of love and more amenable to his kiss. Instead, his embrace reminded her of being licked by an over-eager puppy. And it wasn’t a pleasant experience in the least.

She turned her head to the side so that his lips slid wetly over her cheek. “Don’t, Orrin. That’s enough!”

“Aw, lemme kiss you. We’re soon t’ be wed, after all.”

“I’ve agreed to no such thing. Now let me go.”

When she squirmed, he loosened his hold and leaned back, though his hands still gripped her upper arms. He wasn’t much taller than her, so she didn’t need to tilt her head back as she did with Carlin.

In the half-light, he wore an injured frown. “You never used t’ put on airs with me. Is it your half-noble blood? P’raps I’m not good enough for you anymore.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. How can you even think such a thing?”

“You’re all I think about, Tess, you an’ me, together as man an’ wife.”

The yearning in his voice stirred guilt in her, and she remembered what a good friend he’d been, fetching medicine when she was sick, telling her all the neighborhood gossip on nights when she worked late, bringing her newspapers hot off the press. She’d sensed that he wanted more from her, though, and now it seemed he’d developed even stronger feelings than she’d anticipated.

She lightly placed her hands on the shoulders of his fustian jacket. “Please try to understand, Orrin. I don’t mean to hurt you, but it’s best that you put me out of your mind. I’m in no position right now to think about marriage—nor are you.”

“Hmph. So you are dallyin’ with the duke. Mayhap you’re hopin’ t’ be showered with jewels and gold as his mistress.”

His incessant jealousy frustrated her, especially since his suspicions held a grain of truth. She had indeed dallied with Carlin, just not to the extent that Orrin had suggested. Yet it was insulting to be thought of as the grasping sort who would sell her favors to the highest bidder. If Orrin meant to persist in such mistaken beliefs, well, she was tired of arguing with him.

“There’s no reasoning with you,” she said, too exasperated to defend herself anymore. “I think you had better leave—”

The slam of a door interrupted her. She turned her head toward the house. Her heart jumped as a dark figure emerged onto the loggia.

* * *

Having tied his cravat, Guy turned away from the long pier glass and sat down on a leather-padded bench. The large dressing room resembled a men’s club with chestnut-paneled walls, paintings of horses and hunting scenes, and an abundance of cabinets, the majority of which were empty since he possessed only the essentials in clothing. Luckily, he had a valet who cared as little about fashion as he did.

Jiggs handed him one boot, and then the other, while Guy tugged them on. The valet squinted with his one good eye while using a rag to rub at a spot on the glossy black leather. “Sure ye don’t want breakfast, Yer Grace?”

“Later.” Guy surged to his feet. “Dawn is the best time to