After swallowing the tea and working her way through a hearty meal, she managed to focus on the duke, who had resumed his place at the head of the table. From the look of his dress and his rain-dampened hair, he had already been out. There was no sign of Sir John, but a young man, also dressed for riding, occupied the seat next to the duke.

The duke gestured to his companion. "Mrs. Waterstone, I would like you to meet another relative of mine, Nicholas Gallion. He assists Sir John with my correspondence and all manner of useful things."

The red-headed man stood up and bowed, a smile in his whiskey-colored eyes. His complexion was fair and freckles sprinkled the bridge of his nose. He reminded Elizabeth of an elegant greyhound, full of suppressed energy and intelligence. She guessed his age to be similar to her own.

"Yes, indeed, Your Grace." Nicholas said.

To her surprise, he had a distinct French accent.

"I'm delighted to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Waterstone. His Grace tells me that our ancestors coexist on the far corners of the mighty Diable Delamere family tree." A dimple played at the corner of his mouth as he shot a glance at the duke. "As the duke says, my duties are indeed varied. Last week I had the pleasure of fending off the dukes latest discarded mistress. She certainly had a very interesting vocabulary for a lady."

The duke poured himself another cup of coffee. "Despite his complaints, Nick has a way with the ladies. I'm sure that he will be honored to escort you around town when I'm unable to."

"Of course, Mrs. Waterstone. Consider me at your service."

Elizabeth drank more tea and had just started to feel alive when Sir John Harrington strode into the room. After a quick glance in her direction, he began to converse with the duke in rapid French. After listening for a minute or two, Elizabeth cleared her throat.

"Your Grace, would you please tell Sir John that I speak French far better than he does?" She smiled, showing her teeth. "And if you don't mind me saying so, his accent is atrocious. If he doesn't wish me to understand what he is saying, he should try another language."

Nicholas gave a snort of laughter that he tried valiantly to suppress. The duke's lips twitched, but he seemed unperturbed as he continued to gaze at Elizabeth.

"Before you open your mouth again, John," the duke said smoothly, "Might I suggest that you also avoid Latin and Greek?" The duke raised an eyebrow at Elizabeth and she nodded. "Is there anything else you wish to add, my dear?"

"I speak Spanish too, Your Grace, but not particularly well." Elizabeth couldn't help but smile as she looked into Sir John's red face and then modestly down at her plate. "I've a remarkable ear for languages."

"So it would seem," the duke said.

Eventually, Sir John's rigid countenance relaxed and he cleared his throat. "I should have known that any woman you took an interest in, Your Grace, would be an unusual one. I can only beg your pardon, Mrs. Waterstone and trust that we can become better acquainted."

In some confusion, Elizabeth turned to the duke who regarded her with his usual calm expression.

"He misjudged you, my dear." The duke wiped his mouth with a linen napkin, rose to his feet, and bowed to Elizabeth. "Perhaps you might be gracious enough to accept his apology and leave the no-doubt complicated explanations until later. I wish you to attend me in the study."

Elizabeth considered Sir John carefully. She didn't believe his attempt to placate her for a second. But she accepted his hand and the kiss he brushed over her knuckles with all the graciousness she could muster.

She followed the duke into his study and shut the door behind her. He was already seated behind his desk, his head bent over a pile of official-looking documents. His riding coat was black and cut by a master. An ebony pin surrounded by diamonds lay buried in the depths of his elaborately arranged cravat. The whiteness of his linen contrasted strongly with his raven hair and deep set silver eyes.

He spoke without looking up. "Did you enjoy your travels, Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth smoothed her dark, serviceable skirts over her knees.

"Yes, indeed, Your Grace. Although I was sorry to lose the companionship of your daughter." She hesitated. "I promised to write to her. I should have asked for your permission to do so first."

His eyes lifted and his gaze lingered on her tightly clasped hands. "Of course, my dear. Why should it not be? And speaking of letters--" he tossed an envelope into her lap "--this came from your stepfather's house. I assume it will be an invitation to visit with your mother and half-sister. Let me know when you wish to use the carriage."

Elizabeth crushed the letter to her bosom and fought to find her voice. "I, I thought I was forbidden the house." The duke said nothing and she stared at him for a long while. "You did this for me, didn't you?"

"Why should you think that?"

Elizabeth leaned forward. "Because you are the only man with sufficient power to bend my stepfather to your will." She managed a tremulous smile as she tucked the letter into her pocket. "Thank you. ?I cannot tell you how much..."

The duke cut her off with a decisive wave of his hand. "Then don't. Consider my intervention as a business matter. If you are unhappy here, it will make my task much harder."

Elizabeth took in a deep breath. The duke could have had no idea how much he had set her mind at rest. She was deeply thankful that she would be able to oversee Michael's care without the need for subterfuge.

The duke put down his quill and linked his hands together in front of him. "Are you still set on our arrangement?"

Elizabeth nodded. "Yes, Your Grace, in fact, I'm beginning to think it might not be so arduous after all. I've no difficulty enjoying your kisses. They are quite pleasant and I must confess that you perform them rather well."

"I'm so glad I've amused you." He continued to study her. "I entertain high hopes that you will continue to enjoy what I will teach you next."

He came around the desk and sat on the front edge of it. His boots bore such a high polish that Elizabeth could see her reflection in them. "If you permit, I think we should continue the masquerade of your being a widowed relative of mine. I've no wish for my staff to know any differently and it suits our purpose if the ton gossips about your extended presence here."

He smiled slightly at her puzzled expression. "Widows are allowed a lot more freedom to take lovers than young unmarried girls. No one would be surprised if we decided to form a liaison."

"If that is true, it is a shame I never married. My life would have been a lot easier as a widow."

The duke crossed one immaculate booted foot over the other and studied the toecap before he ventured a reply. "That is one way of looking at it, Elizabeth but perhaps a trifle self-centered. I suspect any man you chose to marry would rather have lived."

Elizabeth pressed a hand to her heated cheek. "Oh, Your Grace, forgive me. I was only thinking aloud. I never meant to imply I wished anyone dead."

She sought his eyes and saw the gentle mockery in them. "Oh, you are teasing me. It is quite disconcerting. I wish you wouldn't do it."

His slight smile faded and he was suddenly all business." We should discuss how we mean to go on."

"Indeed we should, Your Grace." Elizabeth slid her hand into her pocket and stroked the letter like a talisman.

"You are willing to live quietly here for a few months while we complete your education?"

"A few months?" Elizabeth couldn't help her startled interjection. "Surely you have taught me most of what I need to know?"

She blushed when the duke looked stunned.

He rose slowly from his perch and came toward her. Within a heartbeat he pulled her to her feet and put his arms around her.

"You think that you know enough because I've kissed you a few times and you have found it 'quite pleasant'?" He laughed into her neck and she shivered. "I've taught you nothing, nothing at all. By the time I've finished with you, you will want my hands on your body all the time and you will want to touch me, too." He bit down on the soft flesh at the base of her neck. "You will learn to bring me release in ways that you cannot imagine and I will bring you great pleasure."

She gasped as he drew her closer into his arms.

"Why don't I continue your education right here?" He glanced around. "In broad daylight, in my study where anyone could walk in on us. How about if I kiss you now?"

Before Elizabeth could muster a protest, his mouth closed over hers and she surrendered to the heated demands of his kiss. Her hands slid up his back to grip his broad shoulders. While she struggled to breathe, the duke caught her around the waist and sat her on the edge of his desk. He pushed one of his heavy thighs between her legs and pinned her there.

His kisses became deeper and slower and he rocked his thigh against her body in the same hypnotic rhythm as his tongue. She began to feel warm and no longer tried to escape his embrace. His hand pushed at the bodice of her gown, sliding it from her shoulder and baring the swell of her breast. His other hand pressed insistently on the small of her back until she arched her spine, offering her breasts to him.

Elizabeth choked back a shocked cry as the duke trailed kisses down her neck, nuzzled the swell of her breast, and sucked her nipple into his mouth. To her horror, the exquisite sensation tempted her to clutch at his hair and keep him there against her aching flesh. By the time the duke transferred his mouth to her other breast, she lay limply and compliantly in his grasp.