Page 32 of Courting Scandal With The Duke
He sank down again.
‘You?’ she said.
‘Shh. I’m fine.’ He relaxed into the darkness.
It could not have been long before he awoke again.
The sunlight and shadows looked more or less the same. His skin was warm. Her breathing had slowed, and her eyelashes formed a shadowed crescent above her cheekbones. He leaned forward and kissed that delicate place, inhaling the lovely scent of a woman well-pleasured.
What would it be like to wake beside this woman every day? To know she would be at his dinner table every night. The thought pleased him more than it should if he were sensible.
Her eyelids fluttered, her lashes tickling his lips like a butterfly kiss.
‘We should go indoors,’ he said. ‘We need to talk.’
One could not have a sensible conversation stark naked as they were. He was likely to get distracted again.
That might be fatal.
No. No sense fooling himself. What he had done meant no going back. After everything he’d promised his uncle, and himself. He’d proved the apple didn’t fall far from the tree.
He had always thought badly of his father for letting his lust control his decisions, but perhaps it wasn’t only lust—there were other emotions, gentler, warmer feelings stirring deep within him, feelings that seemed to soften his resolve and make him want more than a suitable match.
If he wasn’t a duke and all that entailed…
What on earth was he thinking?
Great-Uncle Thomas would have been so disappointed in him.
Hell, he was disappointed in himself.
But, while he might have lost control, he still had his honour. He wasn’t going to let her take that from him.
He helped her dress then pulled his shirt over his head and put on his breeches and shoes.
She watched him in silence as if she sensed something of his mood.
He went down on one knee to help her on with her sandals while she used his shoulder for balance.
The lightest touch. Fingertips only, but he felt it as if it was of momentous weight.
He fastened the buckle and guided her foot to the ground holding her ankle. Such a slender ankle. He had the urge to run his hand upward. They learned the curve of her calf. He glanced up.
She was watching him, her thoughts as mysterious as the small smile on her lips.
Kneeling before her this way, he could propose now .
He grimaced at the thought. There was nothing romantic about a marriage of convenience. It would be a matter of business. Terms. Conditions. Somehow, he had to make this right.
And there must be conditions.
He buckled the other shoe and stood up.
Barbara released Xavier’s shoulder as he rose to his feet.
Such a tall man. And so handsome. She was tempted to kiss him.
Instead, she picked up the blanket and shook it out.
He took the other end and together they folded it in half lengthwise. Like a couple of laundry maids.
She chuckled.
He frowned. ‘What do you find humorous?’
‘Us. A duke folding the blanket like a domestic servant.’
He looked at her blankly.
It had sounded funnier in her mind than it did when spoken. ‘Never mind.’
They came together and he took it from her and finished the job. She picked up the cushions and they walked up the path to the cottage.
‘Where did you find this?’ he asked, holding up the blanket.
She gestured to the bedroom.
While he put the blanket away, she tidied her hair and tied on her hat.
Could anyone tell from looking at her how she had spent the afternoon? He came up behind her, looking at her in the glass. They smiled, the kind of smile only lovers could smile.
He picked a blade of dried grass from her hair, frowning at it, whether in annoyance or surprise, she wasn’t sure, but then she really wasn’t sure about anything with this man.
He took her hand and led her to sit on the sofa and sat down beside her. An expression of nervousness flickered across his face.
She removed her hand from his grip. ‘What is it?’
‘About what happened out there. My failure to… There could be a child.’ He finished his words in a rush.
‘Oh,’ she said. Neither of her husbands had managed to give her a child.
Of course, there hadn’t been much of a chance with the first, and the second had been so busy spreading his seed around, begetting a child with her would have been luck indeed.
His. Not hers. God, she would have been stuck there.
‘While you are not the woman I envisaged as my duchess, I will marry you, of course.’
Anger stirred in her belly. She kept her expression and her voice carefully neutral. ‘What sort of woman did you envisage?’
He wasn’t looking at her. He was looking off into the distance as if recalling a memory. ‘A more modest sort of woman, who would bring honour to the family name and take the duties of duchess seriously. Not the sort of woman who wears red to Almack’s and has affairs.’
Hurt and insulted, even knowing that he was not wrong, she lifted her chin and smiled sweetly. ‘Well, you do not need to worry. I doubt there will be a child.’
‘Are you saying you are barren?’
She straightened her back. ‘Quite possibly.’
He shook his head. ‘Unless you are certain, then I will not take the chance.’
‘Well, that is very noble and honourable of you, Duke, but as you say, I am not at all the sort of woman you wished for a duchess, and you are certainly not the man for me.’
Shadows filled his expression. ‘It will not do, Barbara. What is done is done. We will marry.’
Did he think to marry her against her will? She opened her mouth to speak but he did not pause to give her a chance.
‘These are my terms. Abide by them and we shall get along.’ He counted them off on his fingers as he spoke.
‘There will be no affairs with other men while you are of child-bearing age. No gambling. No cause for gossip. You will always have the best for the welfare of our children in mind. You will attend functions of state by my side. Apart from the need to beget an heir, we need not see each other.’
She stared at him in disbelief and horror.
Did he think so little of her as a person that she would either need or agree to such a list of conditions—or indeed, such a travesty of a marriage?
Did he think he could ride roughshod over her with his terms without even giving her a say in the matter?
‘Is that all?’ she asked with deceptive mildness.
He frowned deeply. ‘I believe so. I will inform you if I think of anything else.’
‘No.’
He blinked. ‘No what?’
‘Thank you for your most flattering proposal, but no, I will not marry you.’
‘Don’t be foolish. Of course you will. You will never receive a better offer.’
She wanted to hit him over the head.
She stood up. ‘You are certainly not the man I want for a husband.’ She didn’t want any man for a husband.
‘I am sorry. I know you do not want a husband. I heard what you said, and I respect that you have your reasons, but we don’t have a choice.’
‘I don’t care what you think or what you say. We are not getting married.’
‘No child of mine will be brought up a bastard.’
The anger in his voice gave her pause. ‘As far as we know, there is no child. So put it out of your mind.’
‘If you do not care for your own reputation, then think about the child. Your family.’
Her heart picked up speed. She gripped her hands tightly. ‘My father has nothing to do with this.’
He took a deep breath and regarded her coldly. ‘Let us see how you feel after you have had some time to reflect, shall we? You are a sensible woman, and I am sure you will see that I am right.’
‘Damn it, Xavier. You and your stupid honour. You have ruined everything.’ She picked up her reticule and stormed out of the house .
She knew he would not follow, because he would not want to make a scene.
Her carriage was waiting at the nearby inn not far from the Andersons’ house as usual.
John Coachman shot to his feet when he saw her entering the yard.
With a last regretful glance at his mug of ale, he started shouting orders for the ostlers to put the carriage to.
Damn. Now what was she to do? Her father would be in alt at the thought of a duke for a son-in-law, if this somehow came to his ears. She would have to make sure it did not.
And heaven help her, Xavier’s offer had been so very tempting.
Until he listed his demands. Another man who had no respect for women.
Not a chance.