Page 16 of The Duchess and the Beast
“Indeed it has.”
“For that reason...” A part of him yearned to invite her to supper, but another part thought to retreat before he could undo the fragile progress they had made. “I think I might turn in early tonight. If you are famished, I shall ask the staff to prepare a late-night feast for yourself. But I hear my bed calling me...” He chuckled awkwardly.
“Oh, it’s fine, I could not possibly eat.” Her reply was gracious, yet Sebastian sensed a touch of disappointment evidenced in her sheepish pout—perhaps at the evening ending so abruptly.
“Alright.”
But still, she remained in his doorway. He thought their conversation had concluded and that she might excuse herself. Yet no, there she stood, eyeing him with a strange look on her face that he didn’t understand... until he did.
Though Sebastian might have been somewhat detached from the intricacies of feminine wiles, he was by no means a fool. That look in her eye was unmistakable, and where he found it hard to believe she was fixing it on him, he also shouldn’t have been surprised. On the one hand, they were man and wife, this was their wedding night, and it was expected. But on the other hand, the rumors he had heard about Virtue—they came roaring back to him as if slapping him across the face. He had dismissed them as exaggerations, perhaps even utter fabrications. How could such a seemingly innocent creature be the subject of such lurid tales?
And yet, the way that she looked at him... was it possible she wished for him to… bed her?
Sebastian felt himself begin to grow hot. Not from the gentle glow of the hearth, but from the way in which blood ushered to surge through his veins. His eyes traced the silhouette of her form beneath the forgiving drape of her gown, each curve illuminated by the backlit corridor and teasing his senses, stoking a deep, primal longing within him. Oh, how he ached to cross the room in powerful strides, to lift her effortlessly into his arms and carry her to their marital bed with a fervor that both his position and their vows justified.
Yet, a formidable restraint shackled him to the spot. Aself-imposedrestraint. Their marriage was conceived as a pact of convenience, intended solely to secure his estate and title. It was never meant to entwine their souls or bodies in the throes of passion. He was convinced Virtue understood this too—had she not agreed to the same?
The torment of holding himself back, of denying the intense desire that threatened to overthrow his every conviction, was nearly unbearable…
“There is something we… need to discuss,” he stammered awkwardly.
“Oh?” Her face perked up.
“Yes.” Sebastian’s gaze drifted away from hers, unable to meet her doe-like eyes, for they stirred in his breeches a desire that would utterly be his undoing. “This marriage. I do not know what you have come to expect from it, but... well, it is no normal circumstance.”
“I am aware,” Virtue replied, her voice steady.
“And I want you to understand that I don’t… I don’texpectanything from you. Nor should you from me. I would hope for us to be companionable, of course, but beyond that...” He swallowed hard and forced himself to meet her gaze finally, if only to convey his sincerity. “Do not think I will try and... and...” His face grew hot. “Impose my right as a husband.”
She leaned back, her brow creasing, a flicker of disappointment crossing her eyes. “Oh, is that what you think I’m—”
“I am aware of the rumors,” he blurted out, for his tongue was wagging, and he could not bring it to heel. “And although I cannot judge their veracity, you must know, I am not that sort of man. Whatever you may have done or been before this union is one thing, but now that we are man and wife... again... I don’t... there is nothing expected...” He was rambling and he knew it.
Virtue’s expression grew cold and the temperature in the room dropped to match it. “The rumors?” she whispered, each word laced with frost.
He blinked. “Yes. But as I said, whether they are true or not is—"
“Oh,whetherthey are true or not, is it?” she hissed back, her voice sharpening like a blade. “As if there may be a chance they are?”
“What? No!” He moved toward her, and she took a step back—but this time it was not out of fear, but hurt. “I did not mean—”
“I know precisely what you mean,Sebastian.” The name dripped from her tongue like poison—for a moment, it had him wishing he had not asked her to use it just yet. “I would have thought thatyouof all people would know that gossip is nothing more than idle chatter. Nor does it define a person.”
“I know that!”
“What then? Because of the things you have heard of me, you think... you think I am some wanton chit, desperate to tear my clothes off and drag you to bed? That I cannot contain myself around you?” Her voice rose, a tumult of indignation and disbelief swirling in her words.
“No!” he hastened to reply. “Not at all!”
“Because I have news for you,” she snarled, her teeth bared in a grimace that shattered his earlier image of her. Perhaps she was not the docile kitten he had imagined after all. “I have no desires for you whatsoever. I would rather spend the rest of my life in chastity than be forced to share a bed with the likes ofyou.” The way she spat out the word ‘you’ pierced his heart like a dagger, loaded with disgust and contempt.
Sebastian reeled back, wounded by her venom. “I apologize, I did not mean it.”
“It sounds like you did.”
“I misspoke.”
“You said precisely what you were thinking.”