Chapter Twenty-Five

The incessant knocking on the door caused Nicholas' foul mood to get even darker.  "Go away, Drayton!" he bellowed.  Then he paused for a moment before adding, "Or Randolph, if that is you.  Deal with whatever problem has arisen yourself!  I am in no bloody mood for it!  Or your hysterics!"

"So I can see.  My lord."

The last two words were dripping with condescension.  And could only have been uttered by one person.

"Go away, Eliza," Nicholas mumbled from beneath the arm flung over his face.  He should probably care a bit more that he was completely naked in his bed, but then, she was in his bedchamber.  So really, if she was ruined after this, whose fault was it?

Then again, if she was ruined, he would have to marry her.  And then...  He abruptly ceased to allow his thoughts to move in that direction.  It was not something he wished to think about.  Not again.

"No."  He heard the swish of her skirts and knew that she had entered the room, but he refused to look at her.  Instead he squeezed his eyes tightly shut, like a child might.  Juvenile, but then he was in a bit of a mood

The stiff brushing noise of a man's pants indicated that someone else had entered with her.  Given the scent of bergamot, it was most likely Drayton.  "He has been like this since he returned last night, Miss Deaver."  The valet sniffed in indignation.  "It is really not well done of him.  Then again, what can you expect?  Ever since he became The Bloody Duke, he has only ever become more and more stodgy as time has gone on."  The infernal man sighed.  "Really.  One would expect better from a man rumored to be so feared and ruthless.  A pity, really."

"You do realize I can hear you, correct?  Both of you?"  Still, Nicholas would not look at them.

Drayton huffed.  "I would imagine you can, your grace, as you are not deaf, at least to my knowledge.  Merely foolish."  Nicholas heard the man turn, his shoes making a soft scraping noise along the carpet.  "He is all yours, though I doubt you can do anything with him.  He is being something of a bloody nasty bastard since last night.  You have my sympathies, my lady, so I shall leave you to try your best."

"Again.  I can still hear you," Nicholas snapped, though there was no anger in his tone.  Well, maybe a little.  They were standing there discussing him as if he was a piece of furniture or some draperies.

Nicholas heard the soft slide of fabric against skin and that was almost enough to make him want to open his eyes.  Almost.  What was she doing?  Taking off her gloves?  That had better be all of the clothing that she was removing, however.  He would not tolerate her stripping in front of Drayton.  The poor old man's heart would be unlikely to take such a shock!  And Nicholas would hate to lose his best - not to mention only - valet.  But for no other reason than that, of course.

"Yes, well, last night was something of a muddle," she said breezily, as if she hadn't a care in the world.  "As I am certain you have already heard.  Or perhaps read."

He could almost see Drayton nodding in that infuriatingly knowing way that he had.  "Yes, the gossip sheets were delivered quite early this morning.  Seems your family's ball was something of fodder for it.  If you don't mind me saying so."

"No.  No.  That's quite alright.  You are merely being honest, Drayton.  I appreciate that."  Another swish of fabric.  Was she wearing a spencer?  Or perhaps that moth-eaten old cape?  Surely she would not be disrobing in front of his valet.  Would she?  "But I have sorted out matters with my family.  So that leaves only one issue left to resolve."  He heard her shift and he could imagine her pointing imperiously to the bed where he still lay buried beneath the sheets.

"Ah, yes.  The matter of his lordship's courting of you."  Again, Nicholas could almost see Drayton nodding sagely.  "Well, for what it is worth, the staff here are rooting for you, my lady."  There was a pause.  "Normally, we would not countenance such a thing, you understand, as a young unwed lady being in the master's bedchamber alone with him.  No, we are not that sort of household at all."  Another pause.  "However, it is you.  And, frankly, if I may be so bold, we all believe you are good for him.  He is far less irritable when you are around.  Even the cooks have remarked upon it."

That was the final straw.  Nicholas sat bolt upright in bed, heedless of the fact that he was completely and utterly naked.  "I am not irritable!"  He practically shouted the words.

"Yes.  Yes, I can see that."  There, in the middle of his bedchamber, was Eliza and she was wearing that damnable plum-colored gown.  The very first one he had purchased for her from Madame LaVallier's.  And instantly, Nicholas went hard.  And the infernal chit merely smiled at him.  Then she turned back to Drayton and nodded sagely.  "His disposition is so sunny and bright this morning that I would have surely mistaken him for the bluebird of happiness, if I did not know his face so well."

"Izzy, you tread on thin ground," Nicholas growled at her.  Except that The Bloody Duke's old anger would not come.  Instead, he simply felt tired.  Weary.  And most of all, old.  "You too, old man," he grumbled at Drayton.

In response, the valet merely raised an eyebrow.

Damn it.  Nicholas wondered if he was truly losing his touch.

"So good of you to come out from hiding, Nick," Eliza said as she stepped over a puddle of brown fabric on the floor and he could see that it was indeed the worn cape she used to move about London without being noticed in the early morning hours.  Before she left here today, he would burn the wretched thing.  Now that her brother had officially returned, there would be no more need for her to sneak out and risk both neck and reputation to save her family's fortunes.  "I believe we have much to discuss."

When she sent Drayton a look, the valet nodded and bowed.  As if she was the lady in charge of this household!  "Very good, my lady," he said.  "Very good.  Should you need anything, do not hesitate to ring."  Then he glanced at Nicholas.  "Especially if he becomes unruly.  We will all come running, post haste."  Then he was gone, disappearing back into the hallway and leaving Eliza and Nicholas alone.

For several long moments, neither one spoke, their gazes locked.  Nicholas assumed that Eliza would be the first to look away but in the end, he could not bear to see the censure - either real or imagined - in her eyes.  And he broke eye contact first.

"What do you want, Brat?" he asked as he shifted in bed so that his feet could touch the floor, careful to keep his already erect cock from her sight.  She had never truly seen him in the light and he didn't wish to shock her.  Though that was also a convenient excuse.  For if he was naked before her, he might not be able to control himself.  Worse, he might beg for her forgiveness.  And The Bloody Duke did not beg.

Then he paused, studying Eliza for a moment as the mid-morning sun cast her in a golden light, illuminating her hair and making her eyes appear to sparkle.  Very well.  Nicholas might beg.  But not the duke.

Slowly, she approached the bed.  "What I want is for large parts of last evening to never have happened."  She shrugged.  "But we all cannot have what we want.  So I suppose I will have to settle for what I deserve."

Nicholas eyed her suspiciously.  "Which is what, precisely?"

Eliza shrugged.  "You.  Preferably as my husband, but I am willing to take what I can get from you.  Even if it is not exactly what I deserve."

"What you deserve is a better man than me," he snapped.  "I said as much last night.  Or were you not listening?  I slept with another woman!  Who was married!  All so she could have a child to keep her marriage intact, even if I was so bloody stupid that I was unaware of it at the time!  Or that I was foolish enough to believe that I was the only man she was bedding!  Yes, that is precisely the sort of man you deserve, Izzy!  One who is a great, ruddy fool!"  Nicholas did not wish to be cruel, but Eliza did not seem willing to accept the reality of things.

"Yes, I heard all of that."  She took another step, rolling her eyes as she did so.  "Last night as a matter of fact.  In rather vivid detail.  It did not bother me then.  It does not bother me now."

Nicholas growled, ready to pounce upon her, but somehow, he remained where he was.  "It should.  God, Brat!  I could have had a child with another woman!"

Eliza crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her finger on her upper arm.  "Do you?"  She was trying to be casual, but her heart leapt into her throat all the same.

"I...I do not know."  He sobered quickly.  "I do not believe that is the case, but until my men can investigate more thoroughly, I cannot be certain."

Well, that was not exactly the answer Eliza had been hoping for, but it did not change anything.  If Nicholas had a nearly grown son, they would manage.  Together.  Not apart.  She was tired of being alone, tired of fractured families.  Enough was enough.  The time to heal was upon them.  Starting now.

So, in what Eliza knew Nicholas would take as a show of defiance, she took another step towards him.  As expected, his eyes widened.  And she noticed that the sheet covering his lap twitched.  Excellent.  She was affecting him, at least a little.  Just as she had hoped.

"Even if you do have a son by Ellie, it changes nothing."  She drew in a deep breath.  "Arrangements can be made and even if much of society knows the truth, if handled correctly, they will not say anything or question.  Nor slight the boy in any way."  She smiled then.  "At least not if they want to risk the wrath of The Bloody Duke."

With a sigh, Nicholas tried again.  "Izzy, I am not the man for you.  I have done things.  Terrible things."  He did not feel like naming them all at the moment, however.  "And even if you forgive me, I do not forgive myself.  I purchased Stephen's commission.  I am the reason he was able to leave.  I am the reason you have suffered.  It is why I have watched over you for so long."  The confession was nearly wrenched out of him, as if being pulled from his very soul, but strangely, he felt better once he had spoken the words aloud.

In response, Eliza dropped to her knees in front of him.  Had she stripped naked before him, he would not have been more surprised.  "Nicholas, I am not happy that you did any of those things.  But I understand them.  Especially after last night.  All that was said opened my eyes to so very much.  And I forgive you."

He shook his head.  "You cannot.  You should not!"  God knows, he could not forgive himself.

"But I do."  She closed her eyes and leaned forward, bringing her forehead to rest against his knees.  "All of it.  It is forgiven, if not forgotten.  And I am ready to move on. With you."

He did not deserve her.  Or her forgiveness.  But at his heart, Nicholas was a selfish man.  And he craved her absolution as a dying man might crave water.  After last evening, he had never thought to see Eliza again.  But she was here.  In his chambers.  She had defied society and convention to come to him when she could have just as easily walked away.  He had given her the perfect opportunity to do so last night.  Why had she not taken it?  Why was she here now, offering him her forgiveness?

His heart clenched in hope of her answer, but he did not dare utter the words - those three, all-important little words - just yet.  For if she did not return them, then he was thrice the fool.  And he was tired, so very bloody tired of being a fool where the fairer sex was concerned.  So he asked the only question that he was capable of and prayed that her answer was what he silently wished for.

"Why?"  That single word was all but torn from Nicholas' throat and, unable to stop himself, he slid off the bed and sank down beside Eliza.  For once, he did not care if he was naked.  All that mattered was her answer.

"Because I love you, Nicholas Rosemont.  I always have and I am afraid that I always will.  Even if you are The Bloody Duke.  For I find that I love that part of you as well.  More fool me, perhaps, but I cannot help myself.  I have loved you for so long that I cannot remember a day when I did not.  And that, my love, is why I forgive you."

Somewhere deep inside of himself, Nicholas felt the last of his resistance crack and fall away.  He had long believed that if Ellie could not love him, then no woman could.  For he had given Ellie the world on a platter.  All that he had asked was that she wait for him.  But she refused.  She had been more interested in wealth and a title than the love Nicholas was offering.  And she had thrown that love back in his face.

Ellie had though to marry the marquess and then, when he died, she would be able to come to Nicholas with wealth, power and a title of her own.  That Nicholas, a duke of little means, would be subservient to her.  To her, love was a worthless emotion.  Fortune and power were all that truly mattered to her.

And so she had refused him.

Worse, she said that she did not love him.

In the process, she had broken his heart.  Utterly.  Completely.  So badly that Nicholas thought he would never love again.  That he did not deserve love.

Because of that, he had become The Bloody Duke, a cold and ruthless shell of a man whom no one could ever get close to.  Except for Eliza.

For she had known Nicholas Rosemont in the years before he had offered his heart to Ellie and had experienced the pain of it being stomped on.  She knew the man beneath The Bloody Duke.  And she had never once been afraid.

Now, she was here before him, kneeling at his feet and offering herself to him.  All she asked in return was love.  For the first time in his life, Nicholas thought he might be able to manage that.  Because he did love Eliza.  So very, very much.

It was, he decided, time he surrendered.  It was time to put the past behind him, just as she had.  And move forward in whatever direction they chose.  But it would be a direction they chose together.  No longer alone.

Gently, Nicholas reached up to cup Eliza's cheek with his hand.  And from the adoring light in her eyes, he knew that she had meant every word she had just said.  He never wanted that sparkle to dim.  Ever.  "You should not, you know.  Love me, that is.  I have been informed by many ladies that I am not exactly a lovable man."

Eliza shrugged, causing the bodice of her gown to dip low, low enough that he could see the tops of her perfectly delectable breasts.  "I prefer to make my own judgments on those sorts of matters."  She ran her finger down over his chest, making him hiss with need.  "I would rather see for myself."  She was well aware that her actions were a far cry from those of the shy spinster she had been when she had first entered Nicholas' bedchamber so long ago.  She also found that she did not really care.  If Nicholas could have many facets to his personality, so could she.  It seemed only fitting.

Slowly, Nicholas brought his lips to Eliza's.  But this kiss was different than all of the others that had come before.  It was softer and gentler, filled with all of the emotions he had never dared to express.  It was also sweeter somehow, as if all of the hate and anger that had fed The Bloody Duke was now draining away.  That part of him would always exist, he was certain.  However it would no longer define him.  He would not allow it.  He would be a better man.  He wanted to be better.  For Eliza.  And for the life they would share.

"I want you, Izzy," he whispered against her cheek.  "So much.  You can't know.  Let me make love you to.  Please."  He peppered her skin with soft, feather-light kisses.  It wasn't much of an apology for all that he had done wrong in his life, but she didn't seem to mind.

"Yes, please, Nicholas."  Eliza knew that proper ladies did not beg.  Then again, proper ladies did not go marching into rakish gentleman's bedchambers either.  At least not unless they were planning to be ravished.  Which she most certainly was.  "I want you.  More than that, I need you."  Those were the same words he had spoken to her not so long ago.  And she meant each of them.  She did need him.  She saw that now.

With nimble fingers, he undid the buttons on her gown with ease until there was nothing between them so they were free to kiss and caress each other with abandon.  When he lifted her in his arms as if she weighed nothing before he placed her almost reverently on his bed, Eliza felt her heart come undone, the love she had for Nicholas swelling in her chest.

"I love you, Nicholas Rosemont," she said again.  "I cannot imagine a time when I won't.  Or that I won't need you."  She was naked on his bed now, but she did not care.  There was no shame in her words or her actions.  This was where she belonged.  With Nicholas.  And when she opened her arms to him he came to her, clasping her tightly to him.

"And I love you, Eliza Deaver."  For the first time that she could remember, Nicholas' smile reached his eyes.  It was real and true, not the cold, empty grimace that terrified the ladies of the ton.  This was Nicholas.  The boy she remembered.  The Bloody Duke so many had feared.  And finally, for once and for always, he was hers.  All of him.  Even the parts of himself that he did not like.  "I did not realize I could."

Then he was kissing her again, his mouth so hot as it moved over her body that she thought she might die of sheer pleasure.  With each touch and each caress, Eliza felt herself spiraling higher and higher until she wasn't certain where she ended and he began.  Instead, there was just one body, one heart.  No beginning.  No end.  Just them.  Nicholas and Eliza.  One soul.

"Nick, please," she begged.  "Now.  I need you now."  She needed him to ease the ache inside of her, the one that only he could quench.

"Very well," he said, grinning down at her from where he arched above her, his weight balanced on both of his arms.  "Whatever my lady wishes."

He kissed her deeply as he entered her in one long, smooth stroke, their mouths and their bodies mating frantically.  She cried out and he swallowed her scream of pleasure, drawing her breath into his own body as she arched up to meet him.  When she wrapped her legs around his waist, drawing him deeper inside of herself, Nicholas wanted to alternately weep and bellow from the rooftops.  This magnificent creature was his.  He loved her.  And he was not about to let her go.

As the pace of their coupling quickened, Eliza's head began to spin.  Higher and higher Nicholas drove her until she was at the precipice of pleasure, ready to dive over the side and into the magical waters of release.  But not without him.  For she loved him.  And where she went, so did he.

"Come for me, my love," she whispered in his ear.  "I need you.  So very much."

That was all it took.  The moment Eliza felt Nicholas begin to spill himself inside of her, she let go as well, riding the crest of her pleasure higher until she too, tumbled over the top.

She wasn't certain if a lady could die of pleasure, but if one could, Eliza was fairly certain that was the way she would like to go.  As long as she was with Nicholas.  Forever.