Page 27 of A Bride for the Devilish Duke

“Oh, Elsie, I do not know whether to laugh or cry. You know that I have never desired a husband, but I find myself unable to resist this perfect stranger.”

“So, he is perfect, is he?” Elsie gossiped mischievously.

“Yes,” Emma sighed, then remembered herself, “no. He is a bully. He is far too serious and...”

“A good kisser?”

“Yes.No! Oh, I don't know what to think. I do not want to marry.”

Elsie folded her hands in her lap and put on a thoughtful expression.

“That was not how you felt before... you know...thatman.”

She is not speaking of Damien now. She is talking of Sutherland. That day is seared into my memory, and his actions have scarred my mind and body.

“It was not,” Emma sighed.

“When we met at the sanatorium where you came to recover, you were unable to allow a man near you. And now?”

“Now, I have been intimate with the man who wishes to force me to marry him. Does that not make him no better than Sutherland?” Emma murmured.

“I don't know him. But you have said that the Duke wishes to protect you both from scandal and that he does not intend to... takeadvantageof you. I think that makes him different.”

I cannot feel the scar through my dressing gown, but I know it is there, tainting me. Yet I did feel desired when Damien held me in his arms for the first time since that awful day.

She had allowed him to touch her. Touch her all over, even beneath her clothing. She felt wanton, and that, in turn, aroused her further, bringing back vivid memories of his body and his touch.

“My lady, I can't speak for you, but I don't regret the man I loved and gave myself to the first time. Or the second, for that matter. I don't want to get married just yet. I haven't met the right man. But I have loved it and don't see it as bad. You haven't loved it before. What's so bad about taking a bit of pleasure? He's a well-set-up fellow.”

Emma was scarlet at Elsie's frankness, but that was the precise characteristic that had prompted Emma to ask Elsie to come and work as her ladies’ maid.

“He is intolerable in his attitude. Imagine believing he can claim me as though I am a possession…”

Elsie watched her, and Emma knew she was still blushing. Despite her protestations, Emma's emotions were tangled threads when it came to Damien. The thought of standing naked before him was both intensely exciting and repulsive. The idea of his eyes on her scar, let alone his hands, was enough to make her clutch her dressing gown tightly. But those thoughts had been far from her mind earlier when passion and desire had ruled her.

A knock at the door sounded like the tolling of a bell. Emma jumped, startled from her reverie. It did not sound like the diffident tap that would announce her father. Nor the impatient rap that would mean Charles. Neither Josie nor Rosie would knock, at least not before opening the door.

Emma sprang to her feet and dashed across the room to the door which led to her study. She did not know who was knocking, but instinct drove her to take refuge behind the study door, while Elsie went to answer the knock. From her place behind the door, she pressed an eye to the narrow crack just as Elsie moved to answer it.

Then came a voice—deep, smooth, unmistakably male.

And achingly familiar.

Damien?

Elsie glanced at her. Emma found herself nodding.

“Come in, Your Grace. Lady Emma is in the study but won't open the door; she isn't decent.”

“I only wish to talk,” Damien clarified.

“You may leave us,” Emma called to Elsie from behind the study door.

She heard the bedchamber door close and then the creak of the floorboards as Damien quietly crossed the room. She realized that he would see the clothes laid out for her, including her undergarments, all spread out on the bed, as was Elsie's habit when helping her mistress dress. She drew a shuddering breath at the thought. It felt incredibly intimate.

“Emma.” His voice came from just beyond the door.

She jumped at the proximity; she had not heard him coming so close.