Read The Devil Duke Takes a Bride Online
Authors: Rachel Van Dyken
The Devil Duke Takes a Bride (9 page)
Eleven
What’s a Devil to Do?
He was worse than a woman. His own mood swings were driving him mad; he could only imagine how Katherine felt, that is, if he was one to care about others
’
feelings, which of course
,
he didn’t.
He was the devil after all.
It was morning, precisely two days since the dreaded ball where his life changed forever, and less than twenty-four hours since his last erotic kiss with the woman that was to be his wife. By his calculations, he had less than two weeks before the Kringle Ball. The very same ball that sealed his fate as a leg
-
shackled duke.
When had he lost control of his life?
Was it the day he stepped into Agatha’s house? Or perhaps the very second he decided to accept her invitation?
And now, he was stuck.
With a wife he didn’t want, well
,
that is to say he didn’t emotionally want her. Wanting her physically was quite another topic entirely. His body replayed images of her responsive kiss over and over again until his only solace was whiskey.
He finished half the bottle. Not a proud moment since he wasn’t one to normally drink alone.
The problem was he saw no way out of this predicament.
Contrary to
popular
notion
, he truly did possess a heart, though it was small
,
and at times he did wonder if it worked properly. Especially considering he rarely felt guilty for ruining women left and right. It had always been a sport
,
a way to pass time, an entertaining amusement.
But now, he had one woman. One irritatingly attractive woman who was depending on him to make one right decision amidst all the bad ones.
He swallowed, suddenly wishing he wasn’t nursing a headache or nausea, for the whiskey called out to him again.
There was no way out of the mess.
It would be helpful if the chit would at least be agreeable. His demands were straightforward and honest, but in the end
,
it wouldn’t have mattered if she tried to be boring. Her eyes shone with intelligence.
Nor if she tried to be indifferent, her mouth often curved into
a
mischievous smile when
she thought
nobody was watching.
But he watched.
He noticed.
Devil take him, he was actually falling for a woman who wasn’t his mistress.
Which meant he was in danger of creating the biggest scandal the
ton
would ever see or talk about for centuries.
The
D
evil
D
uke was successfully becoming besotted with the very woman he was going to marry.
Wonders never ceased.
He smiled, despite a herculean effort not to and took a slow sip of coffee.
“Your grace, this just came for you. It is urgent that you respond straight away.” His butler bowed, but made no move to leave.
Benedict took the letter into his hand and broke the seal.
A house party.
Gads, he hadn’t been to a house party in years.
He continued reading.
The party was to be thrown at Lord Marks' estate just outside London.
A holiday party.
His mind worked sluggishly through the details. It would be endless days filled with
ice-skating
and games.
It sounded like the exact opposite of something he would normally agree to.
Which was why, when he wrote his acceptance, he nearly banged his head against the table in order to conjure up part of his old self.
“Deuced idiot is what I am,” he mumbled as he closed his eyes, and contemplated returning to bed.
But then a thought struck him.
A devilish thought, one that brought a cheerful smile to his face and did wonders for his headache.
Katherine.
What he needed was to put her in situations where she would yet again prove disastrous and dangerous,
and
would
successfully
kill any sort of attachment he had for her
.
I
t would remind him that she was not any type of woman he wanted to marry.
This
was so simple! The girl was as clumsy as she was beautiful. Put the girl in skates and she would find the thin ice.
He laughed aloud nearly scaring himself in the process
,
for he had just laughed over
the thought of
a girl falling into an ice pond.
His smile faded. Did he truly just imagine her beautiful body falling into an icy hole? What in the blazes was wrong with him? Perhaps she could just take a tumble, reminding him again that she was not fit to be a duchess and certainly unfit to be wed.
On the other hand, considering his imagination had run away with him again, mayhap he should return to bed?
No, no, he scolded himself
.
H
e had preparations to make.
****
One day later
Katherine glared at the man sitting opposite her. The carriage hit a bump; she glared harder. Could he not feel the penetration of her stare?
“You’re going to hurt me if you keep
glowering
at me in that fashion, or worse your eyes will be stuck in that position, and we both know how offensive you find me.” He grinned, his dimples mocking her ever
y
nerve.
Drat the man! Days ago, she did not think him capable of emotion
,
let alone smiling! And now he was. Practically enthusiastic
.
When she agreed to be his friend despite having to marry him, it seemed the best course of action.
In her defense, she had thought to only see him a few more times before the Kringle Ball, and at worse
,
every day.
But now, she was to spend four days in his company.
In his cousin’s company.
She’d be shocked if she didn’t expire from the emotional turmoil of it all.
Add in
ice-skating
and other games, and she was a ball of nerves. It had been pure luck on her part that she had managed
not
to accost the duke in the past three days.
Surely her luck was running out.
Benedict grinned again. Yes, it was most definitely running out.
“Am I to understand that you’ve never ice skated before?” he asked, looking idly amused. If
she
could call inspecting
her
gloves and smiling amused.
“I am quite skilled at ice skating, your grace.”
He cursed aloud and leveled her with a glare so intense
,
she was surprised her face didn’t go up in flames.
“We are to be husband and wife
.
I believe you can cease from calling me your grace, at least in private.”
“Sorry, Benedict.”
His teeth clenched. “Don’t know why you’d have such trouble saying my name now, you were deuced good at screaming it when you were busy trying to plan my demise.”
Katherine bit her bottom lip trying to keep from smiling. “I was concerned for your welfare.”
“Concerned?” He tilted his head and leaned forward. “Pray tell, were you concerned before or after I was knocked out from a tree branch those many years ago?”
She managed a stoic face. “After.”
“And when I fell off the balcony?”
“Before.”
“Why before?”
“Your aunt was hunting for you that night as well, Benedict
,
and if memory serves
,
you had just wagered a thousand pounds that it would rain before morning.”
Benedict
’
s face turned serious. “How did you know my aunt was chasing me?”
“Oh, you looked quite frantic, which is why I offered you an escape.”
“The escape being my ultimate death?”
“I didn’t say I planned it
well
,
” Katherine argued. At this point, her smile was going to freeze onto her face, permanent that it was.
“Minx, you’ve been trying to ruin me your whole life, admit it.”
Katherine laughed. “Perhaps you’re just upset that I ruined you first, Benedict.” His name came out as a whisper.
Eyes darkening, he leaned forward. “I didn’t know you could ruin a devil.”
“And I didn’t know you could redeem one, yet here we are.”
“Yes.” His hands moved to her shoulders and then her neck. “Here we are.”
His lips were just a breath away from hers, but the carriage jolted them out of their moment, putting a stop to whatever spell had descended upon the carriage.
“I’ll just be reading then
,
” Katherine said.
“…must catch up on my sleep, you understand,” he answered at the same time and quickly closed his eyes.
****
Catch up on his sleep? More like experience firsthand torture. Confound it! Benedict had again almost kissed the girl!
It wasn’t necessarily the kiss that upset him.
No
,
it was the way his body responded to her laugh, her every word
,
as if she wasn’t just conversing with him but making love to him.
Which was sheer madness! Speaking was not making love.
And yet, with Katherine it was.
Every word formed with her delicate lips, every sigh that escaped without her notice, every bat of her lashes.
Mad. He was going absolutely mad.
But kissing her? It would make things
exponentially
worse, for he wouldn’t stop at one kiss
.
H
e would not insult his own intelligence by justifying such an action.
With Katherine, a kiss had never been a kiss, but sheer ecstasy like he had never known. Her smell, her taste, everything about her unique and spiced.
Better than whiskey. Blast, better than sex.
Madness. When a man compared kissing to sex and kissing won out, he needed to embark on a weeklong stint of debauchery.
Yet, all he could think about was her kiss, her lips, and the simple idea that in a few short weeks she would say yes, and he could spend his days and his nights finding out what was so intriguing about the saucy minx sitting in that carriage.
Yet, a part, a small part, warned him that once he began that discovery, he would never want to stop.
Twelve
A Snowball For A Duke
Katherine was jolted awake by Benedict’s hand.
“Well? Are you going to wake up, or do I need to carry you?”
Ah, just what she needed
—
a reminder of why he was called the
D
evil
D
uke, why he was disagreeable
,
and why she was upset she wasn’t with his cousin. Katherine had needed that reminder, for her heart had felt lost on the journey, and she wasn’t sure what was happening to her. Something larger than friendship was blossoming between the
m
.
And she wasn’t sure her heart could take the devastation of what a man like Benedict would bring. Surely she could marry him and keep herself indifferent if he was disagreeable. But what if she began to like him, to befriend him, to love him?
He would destroy her.
It would start slow. Most likely Benedict would show her
firsthand
exactly why women whispered about his sexual encounters. But after a few weeks or even a few months
,
he would get bored
.
H
is eyes would wander in the general direction of the courtesans, and he would be lost forever.
His laugh, gone.
His smile, non-existent.
And she would be heartbroken.
Which was why, when he woke her up with a smile on his face, she nudged him out of the way and stepped out of the carriage on her own.
What she didn’t know was that the ground was far closer than she realized,
and
she nearly lost her footing.
Thankfully
,
Benedict was close behind her and caught her arm, but not before it hit him square in the face with a resounding thud.
The footmen gasped.