Kate Pearce - Educating Elizabeth

He leaned against the doorframe and studied the intense figure at the desk. Elizabeth had a frown between her brows and a quill pen poised over a piece of parchment. Unnoticed, Gervase moved closer and looked over her shoulder. From the amount of scribbling, he deduced her latest attempt to break Le Fleur's code was not progressing well.

Gervase laid his hand on Elizabeth's shoulder and registered the tension in her muscles. He squeezed and relaxed his fingers and she tried to shake his hand off. Gervase stilled as the warmth of her scent drifted up to tantalize and revitalize his tired senses. "Elizabeth, it is time for bed."

She barely glanced at him, her attention all on the page in front of her. Gervase suppressed a smile. It occurred to him that he didn't like to be ignored and was not used to it from the woman who occupied his bed.

"Elizabeth." He made his tone commanding. "I want to go to bed, preferably with you."

This time she did look up. She gave him a rather perfunctory smile and pushed her spectacles higher up her nose. "You run along, Your Grace. I will join you shortly. I just need to finish this piece."

Without bothering to reply, Gervase picked up one of the long goose-feather quills from the desk and ran his fingertips along the taut edge of the feather. He moved closer to Elizabeth and touched the tip of the feather to her earlobe and down the nape of her neck. He followed the feather's path with the tip of his tongue.

She shivered slightly but still refused to look up. With renewed intention, Gervase angled the feather to dip toward the front of her bodice. He sat sideways on the desk and used his finger and thumb to unhook the pearl buttons on the severely cut green velvet of her bodice. Her chemise and corset appeared and his breath shortened as he allowed the feather to caress the enticing swells and tips of her breasts. As he flicked the quill in an endless circling pattern over her exposed skin, he was gratified to see her nipples begin to tighten.

He breathed against her neck, an invitation and a command. "Let me touch you, ma belle, let me inside you."

She sighed and her quill pen dropped from her fingers. He gathered it up to double his sensual assault. Her head fell back against his waistcoat, allowing him to caress her throat and then her mouth with his kisses and soft touches. He slid further up the desk, taking her weight into his arms, loosening her stays and completely baring her breasts to his hungry mouth.

When her hands came up to clutch his shoulders and she began to kiss him back, he angled her to lie beneath him on the desk and pulled up her skirts. She made no further protest about her work as he opened his breeches, plunged inside of her and reminded her of her other obligations.

He waited until she had moaned her pleasure into his mouth before he realized he wanted more. "Elizabeth, hold on to me. We will finish this upstairs. I want you naked." He lifted her from the desk in one easy motion and smiled as she gasped when his shaft was forced even deeper inside her.

Elizabeth shut her eyes and clung to the duke as he mounted the stairs, each jolting step pooling low in her stomach, making her arch into him in a wordless plea. He began to breathe more harshly as they reached the top of the stairs but she didn't think it was because he was disturbed by her weight.

He stopped as she started to spasm around him again and his hand came up to cover her mouth. With a soft curse, he drew her into the shadows of the massive landing window and the concealment offered by the thick velvet curtains. Her back hit the paneled wall as he braced her against it and placed his hands on either side of her head. As her body, released from his hold, slid downwards, he surged upwards, concentrating her whole weight on where they were joined. She fought back a scream as his mouth covered hers, his tongue driving into her as his body drove into her.

With the last remnant of his sanity, he remembered that he had to withdraw and pulled out. His hands moved blindly to support her hips as he spilled himself into oblivion.

Down in the hallway below, the front door slammed and voices echoed in the silence. Elizabeth couldn't have moved if her life depended on it. She tried to quiet her breathing and sensed the duke doing the same.

"God, I'm glad to be home," Nicholas said. "I hate hanging around those gaming hells and watching the unsuspecting flats being lured into the traps of the card sharps."

"Unfortunately, Nicholas, there are many who are unable to resist the excitement of gaming." Sir John's prosy voice had Elizabeth stifling a smile against the duke's shoulder.

"You are not exactly immune to the excitement yourself, are you?" Nicholas replied. "You were badly dipped tonight. I saw you scrawling vouchers with the best of them."

"Only in the interests of catching the spies, young Nicholas." Sir John sniffed. "Naturally, I would never gamble my own pitiful fortune away."

Nicholas gave a short laugh. "But you consider it acceptable to gamble away the duke's, do you?"

"Of course, it is my duty. He is so disgustingly wealthy that he will scarcely notice the loss." Elizabeth felt the duke's muscles tighten around her like the coils of a snake. "I wonder why he doesn't bother to go out and gamble his own money anymore."

"Are you blind, Sir John? The duke is far too busy spending cozy evenings with Mrs. Waterstone to want to go out on the town."

"Mrs. Waterstone and the duke?" Sir John's voice held a mixture of surprise and revulsion that made Elizabeth feel ashamed. She fought to disengage herself from the duke's arms but he held her tightly as Nicholas's voice faded in the direction of the kitchens. Elizabeth was just about to protest when the duke placed his hand over her mouth.

"The clever little bitch," Sir John whispered. "Mr. Forester will be pleased." His words floated up the stairwell and settled sickeningly in Elizabeth's stomach. The front door banged and the house grew still.

The duke let her slide to the floor and she stumbled into her bedroom. When the duke shut the door she turned to face him, her breathing uneven.

"Gervase, if you think I made love with you to please my stepfather, you are mistaken."

An uncharacteristic mixture of emotions flickered on the duke's face. "Indeed?"

Elizabeth lifted her chin. "If he had asked me to seduce you in order to forgo his debt I would have refused. The money I requested was not for him."

The duke inclined his head. "I never thought that it was, and, having met your stepfather, I can understand your dislike of him."

Elizabeth managed to breathe as the duke came forward to take her hand. "Now," he murmured. "Where were we?"

His mouth closed over hers and the questions she had regarding Sir John's strange behavior flew from her head as she surrendered to the duke's questing hands and the lure of his muscular body.

Gervase left her to sleep and walked through the deserted house down to Sir John's study. After locking away the code and tidying up the disordered desk, he lit a single candle and settled into Elizabeth's chair. When Sir John had made his incautious remark, Gervase had braced himself to face Elizabeth's suspicions. To his surprise, her major concern had been to convince him she was not allied to her stepfather. He had assumed she would ask about Mr. Forester and Sir John's relationship with him.

He angled the chair back and put his booted feet up on the corner of the desk. He had been quite willing to distract her with his lovemaking. He smiled and ran his tongue over his lips where her sweetness still lingered. She was an outstanding pupil both in and out of bed. He just had to think of a way to stop her agile mind from inquiring too deeply into his plans.

His lovemaking usually worked to distract her. But he feared that even he didn't have the stamina to ravish her night and day for as long as it took to break the code and find out the extent of Mr. Forester's involvement.

He blew out the candle and made his way back up to his bed, wishing with some small part of himself that he could rejoin Elizabeth in hers and stay with her until dawn. But that would not be wise, not be wise at all...

"What in God's name is going on?"

"I'm not sure, Your Grace, we found her like this."

Gervase shooed Sir John and Nicholas out of his way. Elizabeth lay slumped over her desk, her fingers curled around her quill pen, her cheek pressed into the scribbled sheet of parchment on her blotter. It was eight o'clock in the morning and Gervase had no inkling how long Elizabeth had been lying there. He felt for a pulse and went down on one knee beside her chair.

"Elizabeth?"

Her eyelids fluttered open and after a long distracted moment she focused on him. He flinched at the desolation in her gray eyes. "I cannot break the code," she croaked as he reached instinctively for her hand. "I'm too stupid."

A single tear ran down her pert nose. Gervase knew she hated to cry. A wave of tangled emotions swept through him and he reached forward to enfold her in his arms.

With a pitiful sob, she cuddled into him. He sat in her vacated chair and placed her on his lap. He rocked her as though she were a child, murmuring nonsense to her in both French and English whilst he smoothed his hands over her back.

After a while, her ink-stained hand crept around his neck and held him tight. Gervase produced a large handkerchief and gave it to her.