Taming an Unrepentant Earl: Taming the Duke’s Heart Read online

  “Miss Frazier, your stitching is lovely,” Harry said, looking at Danielle.

  Sophie took a steadying breath, glad to speak on a topic that did not involve herself. “Danielle is a model of feminine pursuits, my lord.” Her cousin excelled at embroidery, dance, polite conversation. Danielle would never have argued with a man she’d known for only a day. Danielle rarely argued with anyone.

  He raised an eyebrow at her. “I’m sure she is.”

  Belatedly, it occurred to Sophie that Danielle would make an ideal match for Harry. Her heart constricted in her chest. Her angelic beauty was the perfect foil to his dark and dangerous good looks. She’d make an exceedingly good countess with her docile and kind demeanor.

  Clearing her throat, she sat up straighter. “What is it you wished to discuss today?”

  He leaned back in his chair. “I’ve written to my brother and his wife. I should hear back by this evening. They have far more connections in the area than I do and would be better able to gain the necessary invitations.”

  Her heart hammered in her chest. The Marquess and Marchioness of Devon were sure to get her the very best connections to find a suitable husband. “Oh, that is a wonderful idea.”

  He nodded. “The only question that remains is what do you want? I know you haven’t had long to think about it, but did you decide if you wanted to pursue marriage?”

  Sophie frowned. She had been contemplating the topic, mostly. Thoughts of Harry had gotten in her way, of course. “I have considered my options and, while you’re right, I am rather independent, I would like a family and…” She was revealing a great deal. She clasped her hands together, choosing her words more carefully. “And so I wish to try and find the right man for me.”

  He ran his hand through his hair, staring at the wall just to the left of her shoulder. “Excellent. I’ve three months before my superiors will even consider my reenlistment. Let’s put that time to good use, shall we?”

  “Thank you,” she breathed, unsure of what else to say. She was getting exactly what she’d wanted. Yet, somehow, the thought of searching for a husband with Harry at her side made her twitch with barely restrained nerves.

  “As for you, Miss Frazier.” Harry turned to Danielle. “Alfred left a small stipulation on your behalf. It isn’t a great deal, but it should allow you to make a good enough match.”

  Danielle dropped her embroidery. “Are you certain? I thought…” She lowered her gaze.

  “I’m quite certain. I’ve discussed the details with the barrister myself.” He gave her a kind smile, the type of gentle look Sophie was certain she’d never receive. Danielle brought that out in people.

  Then he looked back at Sophie and turning his right side so Danielle couldn’t see it, gave a wink. What did that mean? She’d certainly be finding out.

  He stood again. “Well, I think that is all for today. As soon as my brother and sister-in-law reply I will send back word to you and—”

  Sophie held up her hand. In many ways, the less time they spent together, the better; she needed to find out what was happening with her cousin. And, she could admit to herself, certain parts of her body wanted him to stay. “I’ve the cook preparing a special meal. We’d be honored if you would join us for dinner.”

  “For dinner?” He frowned, his forehead creasing. “I’m not sure it’s wise.”

  She cocked her head to the side assessing him. Would he say no? He didn’t appear to enjoy her company all that much, except of course when she’d been pressed against him. “I can assure you the food will be a great deal better than what you’ll receive at the inn. Mrs. Patterson is an excellent cook.”

  His frown only deepened. “Very well. What time should I return?”

  “Seven would be perfect,” she said, rising as butterflies flitted around in her stomach. She honestly didn’t know if she should celebrate or lament. Was she frowning? She quickly pasted a smile on her lips. He was helping her after all.

  “I’ll see you at seven,” he murmured and then headed for the door.

  * * *

  Harry climbed into his carriage, wishing he was riding a horse instead. But he hadn’t been on horseback since his hip had been torn to ribbons and, if yesterday was any indication, he wasn’t ready. He’d been trapped on the settee with Sophie. Granted, he’d been pinned in far worse situations in his life. There had been times when the enemy troops had locked him down so tight, he’d made his final prayers. And of course, there was the time a baronet’s husband had nearly caught him in his wife’s bed. That one made him grimace now.

  In his early days, he’d been wild, reckless, and prone to destructive behavior. For him, the army had changed that. He’d become a man of discipline, through work and commitment, he’d found purpose and meaning. It was why he needed to go back. That and for Alfred’s sake. The French would pay for what they’d done.

  The carriage brought him back to the inn where he made his way back to his room. It was a sparse space with barely a bed and a desk, the brown blanket hardly different from the color of the chipped wood on the furniture. He’d have liked to stay at Sophie’s home rather than here. Her furniture was inviting, the colors soothing, even her pink drapes. A man could relax there.

  But only until Sophie entered the space. His little brown-haired minx left a man tied in knots, which forced his decision to leave. He could stay at the house though, entitled as her guardian and manager of her estate. But he didn’t trust himself to deny the temptation while sharing the same roof with her. Hell, he wasn’t even certain about sharing dinner.

  He chuckled to himself. The barrister, Mr. Sheldon Eggermeyer, clearly had a soft spot for Miss Frazier. He’d facilitated the reallocation of funds into the girl’s dowry all the while giving a goofy smile. Lovely as the girl was, he didn’t understand how the barrister could even notice Miss Frazier with Sophie in the room. His little minx oozed the sort of confident self-awareness and intelligence that let a man know she’d leave him wanting more.

  Bloody bollocks, just the memory of that hand stroking him...he’d been up half the night. He’d briefly considered finding another woman to satisfy his urges but that left him with a vague feeling of dissatisfaction.

  A knock sounded at the door and he stood, hauling himself from the chair to answer.

  A harried-looking innkeeper handed him a note and then bustled off. Harry immediately recognized his brother’s bold script.

  After closing the door, he headed back to the desk and sliced open the seal, then scanned the contents. Bar and his wife, Emily, would arrive tomorrow and their youngest brother would be coming as well.

  Harry’s brow lifted at that and he gave his head a shake, wondering what sort of trouble Drew, as he preferred to be called, had found. He was two and twenty and reminded Harry of the man he used to be. Bold and brash as he chafed against the rules.

  Harry wondered if there was an issue between his brothers. Coming to a little country town such as this was the last thing Drew would want to do.

  Harry shook his head as his mouth pressed into a line. He’d haul Drew off to the army if he had to. Their parents had been doing a great deal of traveling. His father was the duke only in name. His brother had assumed all the responsibility some time ago. Bar didn’t seem to mind, especially with Emily’s excellent assistance, but managing their siblings was another matter. Madeline had been difficult but Drew… he had been downright awful since his eighteenth birthday.

  On more than one occasion, Bar had mentioned that their father needed to stay in England long enough to set Andrew in his place.

  Harry winced. He hadn’t been much help to Bar on that front. Perhaps he could rectify that now that he had returned home for a stretch.

  Rising from the chair, he lay down on the bed and closed his eyes. He hadn’t slept much, and he’d need all his wits to deal with a dinner in Sophie’s company.

  Then his eyes popped open. Where were Emily and Bar going to stay? Certainly not here at the inn. He’d
been in the army and even he didn’t like this place.

  But if they stayed with Sophie, how could he explain why he didn’t also stay on the premises? He tossed his arm over his eyes. He supposed he’d have to tell the truth. Bar would understand.

  Or would he? Honestly, he couldn’t remember feeling an attraction so powerful and he wasn’t quite sure he understood it himself.

  Chapter Seven

  Why…why had she insisted Harry come for dinner? She knew why. With a sigh, Sophie watched the last rays of light play out over the water. There was no contingency for Danielle. She was certain of that. And if Harry had given over the money, it could damage Danielle more than it ever helped her.

  While Harry had surely meant well—and she really appreciated the gesture—she questioned the wisdom at play.

  Danielle was still dressing for dinner when the doorbell rang. Harry strode in looking even more dashing in the evening light than he had that afternoon, though his limp was also more pronounced.

  She didn’t bother with formalities as she assessed him. “Why is your hip bothering you so much tonight?”

  He grimaced and tossed himself in his preferred chair. “All the activity, I suppose.”

  She winced, nibbling at her lip. “What exactly happened?”

  His eyes closed as he massaged at his hip. “A rogue cannonball.”

  She let out a soft gasp as her hands came to her mouth. That sounded absolutely awful.

  “I was only hit by some of the shrapnel, but it tore up my skin and a good amount of bone. I’m making nice progress with my recovery, but the evenings are harder.” He didn’t open his eyes as he gently massaged at the flesh.

  She could see the tight lines of pain about his eyes despite his casual posture. “And you hope to be fully recovered in three months’ time? How long ago was your injury?”

  A muscle in his jaw ticked. “Several months ago. It has taken me a great deal of time to recover enough to return here.”

  “And you expect to be well enough to return to full duty soon. When exactly?”

  His gaze flickered with doubt as his mouth pinched. “As soon as possible.”

  “I see.” Perhaps he knew something she didn’t. Maybe a desk position waited for him or they’d make allowances for his condition. “You need something to dull the pain.”

  She hesitated but then left the room and returned with a glass of whisky. She kept it for just such occasions. “Here.” She pressed the drink in his hand, glad for the protection of her gloves. His touch, even through the fabric, sent excitement shivering down her limb.

  “You read my mind,” he muttered, taking a generous swallow.

  She took a breath. “My motives are selfish. I wanted to discuss my cousin with you and…” She paused looking for the correct words.

  One side of his mouth tipped up. “And you thought you’d use whisky to loosen my tongue.”

  She bit at her lip to keep from laughing. “Something like that. It’s just I know that there is no stipulation for Danielle and—”

  He raised a hand. “Your brother left me his last three months’ salary to aid in your care. As you have your finances well in hand, I had the barrister put the money in Danielle’s name. The money was Alfred’s. I know it’s a bit of a loophole but fortunately for us, Mr. Eggermeyer has an affection for your-—”

  Her heart wanted to burst with gratitude. Without thought, she bent down and wrapped her arms about his neck. “Thank you,” she murmured. She’d lost a great deal of sleep worrying for her cousin’s future and he had come up with an answer within a day.

  He sat motionless under her awkward hug, not returning the gesture but not pushing her away. Her nerves jangled as heat made her flush. How embarrassing. She straightened, smoothing her skirts. “My apologies. I have worried for her and I greatly appreciate your help.”

  He gave a stiff nod. “It was my pleasure. If I do say so, Mr. Eggermeyer would surely marry your cousin if she were amenable.”

  Sophie shrugged as she turned back to the window. Any topic was better than mentally revisiting that mangled hug she’d just given. “I’ll be sure to tell her.”

  “In terms of your future, my brother arrives tomorrow.” Sophie kept her gaze averted from him, but she heard the change in his voice, the drop in cadence.

  “What’s wrong?”

  He let out a cough. “Nothing.” Then he cleared his throat. “Well, something. I’m not sure how you knew that but…” He paused. “He can’t stay at the inn. He’s a future duke.”

  She turned to look at him then, her eyebrows lifting. “Where else would he stay?”

  He took another long swallow of his whisky. “Here.”

  “And my home is suitable for a future duke?” She turned back to look him in the eye as her spine straightened.

  “Far more so than the Boar’s Head Inn.” He closed his eyes again, sinking further into the chair. “There’s no other choice and they’re coming here for you.” His casual stance didn’t fool her. It was a tactical move meant to dismiss her. Which wouldn’t work.

  Instead she moved closer, resting her hands on the arms of the chair as she leaned down over him. His eyes opened and met hers. Then they began to do a slow perusal over her face, down the long column of her neck, to the open neckline of her dress and rested on her rather ample cleavage currently on display. He made a noise deep in his throat that reminded her of an animal before it attacked.

  Sophie leaned closer. “I am not questioning the merits of your statement but the method of your request. You can ask nicely or—”

  His pose changed in a second and suddenly her feet were out from under her and her body crushed against his. “Or what,” he uttered so quietly that she might have missed it except for the fact that the vibration of his voice rumbled through her body, making her shake.

  Desire and a breathless shiver ran down her spine. She would not, however, be intimidated. She cupped his cheeks as she stared into his eyes. “Do not make me threaten you.”

  For a moment his head jerked back in surprise. Then he squeezed her tighter. “The British Army should unleash you on Napoleon.”

  “Thank you, I think,” she tried to straighten away, but he held her firm.

  “What were you going to threaten me with?” he asked, his nose just touching hers.

  Her lips trembled. If she tilted her head a notch, she’d give him full access to her mouth. Did she want his lips on hers? Her pulse skittered. Of course she did. She cleared her throat, weighing her options. “I still might have to. You said this was still my house, which means you need to ask if I will host your family, not demand.”

  Gently, he rubbed the tip of her nose with his. The simple caress shot a wave of awareness through her. Lord. What would kissing him be like? “Do you have any idea how alluring your confidence is? What it does to a man’s…” He let the words taper off.

  Her lips parted. She could feel what it was doing to one certain part of his body. “Not all men like confident women. Some are threatened.”

  “Fools,” he mumbled and then tipped his mouth so that it just brushed hers. The touch was the lightest caress, but every part of her body tingled. “They’re not man enough to know that the challenge is what makes the chase exciting.”

  Oh, that did sound delicious and wicked and perfectly tempting.

  Sophie wanted more of him, of this. But it was also wrong. He was her guardian, her brother’s best friend, and a soldier who would return to the front. He wouldn’t be interested in marriage and children for a long time. For all those reasons and more, she needed to move on to find a man who would stay by her side and give her the family life she craved.

  * * *

  This woman fit against him like she’d been made especially for him. The softness of her body, the delicate press of her lips, was a balm he hadn’t even known he’d needed until now. He brushed his lips against hers again. The lightest of touches because he didn’t want to scare her away. Despite her wit a
nd intelligence, she had little experience. Though her touches yesterday might have persuaded him otherwise, her reaction afterward and her nervous tension told him she wasn’t used to being pressed against a man.

  This exercise had begun as a lesson to her on challenging him. Which had gone completely awry. She wasn’t learning to fear him, instead, he was discovering how to worship her.

  “You like to be challenged?” She breathed the words against his lips, her cinnamon-sweet breath filling his mouth and making him woozy.

  He trailed his hand up her back, wishing again that he could dive his fingers into her mass of silky hair. How did he tell her that she was the perfect combination of soft and fiery, sweet and strong? “I like you,” he whispered.

  She sucked in her breath, her hands pressing into his cheeks as her breasts swelled against his chest. A low groan rattled through him.

  A scraping noise outside the doorway interrupted the moment and he loosened his hands, allowing her to jump from his grasp. His teeth snapped together. Every muscle screamed to pull her back against him. He hated to let her go.

  She smoothed her skirts and patted her hair, her fingers fluttering about as Danielle entered the room. “Will we eat soon? I am famished.”

  So was he. But it wasn’t food he craved.

  Chapter Eight

  “Dear lord, have mercy on my soul.” Sophie muttered the prayer under her breath as she watched Harry exit the carriage after his brother.

  The rest of the previous evening’s dinner had been uneventful except for the sensual tension crackling between her and Harry. She ran her palms down her skirts. She needed to control her reaction to the man or her attraction would be obvious to his family the way it already was to hers.

  “You cannot allow him to kiss you again,” Danielle muttered under her breath as she stood next to Sophie. “I saw the two of you last night. You’ll end up ruined.” Then she turned her head. “Unless that’s your plan. You want to become a countess?”