Page 70 of Road Trip With a Rogue

Provided she didn’t go anywhere too dangerous, of course.

She’d probably refuse to let him employ a bodyguard to accompany her on her missions, but perhapshecould go with her and watch her back. They’d make a formidable team. And he was more than happy to kill anyone who threatened her.

As his duchess she’d have his fortune at her disposal too. His father had left the duchy in a solid financial position, and his own transactions on the stock exchange had garnered him more money than he knew what to do with.

The thought of showering Daisy with clothes and jewels pleased him in ways he couldn’t quite explain. She looked delectable in a muddy pair of breeches, but he wanted to see her wearing a dress that he’d chosen for her, with the Cranford diamonds sparkling at her throat.

The fact that she clearly didn’t give a fig for such things was highly amusing. It would be his pleasure to indulge her. She’d huff and complain—and then steal everyone’s breath.

Society was so fickle he knew he could paint their elopement as desperately romantic. If he said he’d been so in love with her that he hadn’t wanted to wait the traditional three weeks for the banns to be read, the dowagers and matrons would smile indulgently at his masculine impatience and overlook the fact that he could have just purchased a special license in London.

Daisy would make a remarkable duchess. Fierce and unexpected, passionate and loyal.

She was also intelligent. Once she’d had time to consider all the ramifications, she’d come to see that marrying him was by far the lesser of several evils.

His pride rebelled a little at the fact that she hadn’t jumped at the chance—a hundred other women would have done so—and then he snorted softly in self-mockery.

Of course Daisy would make things difficult. Her insistence on only marrying for love made her an anomaly in theton. Marriages were usually more social and financial contracts than passionate unions, but he admired her optimism.

Even if it made his own life bloody difficult.

She moved, twisted, so her forehead pressed against the outside of his thigh. Her hand lay near his knee, half curled, and he gave in to the temptation to stroke her palm lightly with his finger. Her fingers closed around it, trapping him.

“Lucien.”

He stilled as she murmured his name. And then his heart missed a beat as she pulled their joined hands toward her and pressed her lips to the scarred back of his hand, then tucked it beneath her cheek.

She was asleep. She didn’t know what she was doing. It wasn’t a kiss. She was just seeking comfort.

He still didn’t move his hand. He simply sat there in the darkness, his heart hammering as if he’d run the full length of a battlefield under fire, pierced by a sensation that was half pleasure, half despair.

When Daisy woke again it was still dark, and she had absolutely no idea what time it was. The pain in her head had receded to a dull ache; still there, but lurking in the background so she could finally think of other things.

She rolled onto her side, and in the strip of light that glowed from beneath the door she saw the dark shape of a man sitting in a wing armchair just to the right of the fire. Her heart gave a little skip. She knew who it was.

“You’re awake,” Vaughan said softly. “How do you feel?”

She rubbed her hands over her face. “Better. Thank you.”

He uncrossed his legs and rolled his shoulders, and she had the impression that he’d been sitting there for quite some time.

“Have you ever figured out what causes these headaches?”

She tilted her head to stretch the muscles of her neck. “I wish I could. I’ve tried to see if it correlates to foodthat I’ve eaten, or some activity I’ve done, but I’ve never found anything.”

“Could it be related to your monthly courses?”

Her brows rose. Most men would be too ignorant or too embarrassed to bring up such a topic, but Vaughan was not most men. He seemed genuinely interested in finding the root cause.

“I don’t think so. I tried tracking that, too, but there was no pattern. I’ve thought there might be a link to times when I’ve been particularly busy, working long hours and not sleeping enough, but who knows?”

“Could it be that you haven’t been eating regularly?”

Daisy yawned. “Perhaps.”

“Can you eat something now?”

“What time is it?”