Page 61 of The Duke is Wicked
Closing the umbrella, Sebastian angled it into a corner nook and turned to her. “Bold, different, unique.” Lifting his hand, he caressed her cheek, a tender touch that made desire rage, a wild flame in her belly. “I quite like those things. In fact, I want them desperately.”
A moment later, when he moved to guide her through the library’s massive doors, she halted in place, yanking on his arm. “We can’t go inside. I expected to only see the building. This is for students.”
With a derisive sigh, Sebastian entered the building like he owned it. Reclaiming her hand, he dragged her across the foyer and down the central aisle, the stained-glass windows, replicas of those in her attic, glimmering in the distance. The scent of leather and aged vellum lit her nose, academia and knowledge, things she had, as a woman, been denied.
He was striving to give her what the world would not.
“I know you think this title business is rubbish, Temple, and maybe it is. I’m halfway to believing that myself, but I have it, so I may as well use it. And a duke is allowed to go anywhere he wants in this country, inexcusable as that is. I spoke to Keble’s chancellor and had the place vacated. It’s ours for one hour. That’s how impressive having a duke suggest he needs your library to change his life is. Plus a minor endowment. Cambridge will be suitably appalled.”
She stopped to trail her finger along a marble bust of a portly gentleman in period attire resting atop a bookcase. “I assume a duchess would have this freedom as well? To do as she pleases? Race her horse along Rotten Row and tell society to sod off? Does that sound reasonable?”
Sebastian stumbled on a wrinkle in the carpet, his amber eyes wide when they met hers. His long lashes dusted his cheeks when he blinked, hiding his flash of happiness. He was impossibly, unfairly handsome, and her love for him abundant. “You’re going to say yes this time.”
Crowding into him, she went to her tiptoes, brushing her mouth across his. “Maybe I was always going to say yes.”
“Were you?” he whispered against her lips. There was no heat in the statement, only wonder.
“I don’t care about being a duchess. I only care aboutyou. I had to figure it out, this not wanting one but being unable to live without the other.” A floral scent swirled, and she glanced around to locate its source. Her merriment rang through the library. “Are those rose petals scattered across the floor?”
Sebastian coughed lightly under his breath, clearly embarrassed. “I thought to do this properly. The grand gesture this go.”
“You mean to say you scattered these petals yourself?”
“Well, no.” He made a show of straightening his cuffs, his cheeks tinting. “But itwasmy idea.”
Delaney took his hand in hers, staying his nervous movement. “It’s a grand proposal. What more does a girl need than a tiara, flower petals and her favorite stained glass windows?”
“There’s champagne, too. And when the hour is up, a private viewing of those medieval manuscripts you fancy.” He shifted from one glossy boot to the other, yanked his hand through his hair, then glanced at her to see if she noticed. Oh, her sweet, vulnerable duke. “I brought you here, to a place you believed you’d never visit, a place important to you, to say the impossible is possible. Love, even for people cursed with gifts they didn’t ask for and don’t know how to control completely, can be healing. Itcan. I…” Swallowing deeply, he crossed to the spot where the meager light shot through the stained glass and fell to the floor in dull blue and green ripples. Gazing up at the magnificent window panes, he continued, “I was wrong. When I think of you, when I’mwithyou, I’m calmer, happier. For the first time, I’m where I should be. There’s a way…”
Scrubbing his hand over his jaw, he chanced another peek at her, then looked back to the windows with a slow exhalation. “There’s a way for me to gain control while experiencing such strong emotions. Passion, love. Possession and the expectation that I must protect you. Those aren’t going away. What I feel for you and this baby aren’t going away. I’ll apologize in advance for the precautions we’re going to take, apologize sincerely for the fires and my being older than the man you’d planned to attach yourself to—”
Delaney moved before he could complete the confession, wrapping her arms around him and nestling against his back. Dropping his head, he covered her hands with his and pressed them into his flat, quivering belly. “We’ll live together then, the American hellion and the elderly, fire-starting duke?”
“Ah, Temple, would you agree to a different arrangement? Even for your safety?”
“Of course, not.” She smiled, glad her elderly duke couldn’t see her face and the triumph shining in her eyes. This was the most crucial wager she’d ever negotiate. “And none of this aristocratic separate bedrooms silliness, either. The nursery will be on the same floor as well. I have news for the lords and ladies of theton. I won’t stand to be apart from either of you, no matter what standards dictate.”
“Bedchambers,” he corrected, his hands clenching over hers. “No, none of that ridiculous business. Nothing separate. Not from this day forward. You and the baby, there with me. Is that satisfactory? Again, with precautions until my control is sharper. You see…” He turned in the circle of her arms, his hand going to her chin to tilt her gaze to his. “I feel like I’ve come home when I haven’t had a home in…forever. I’ll promise anything in this spot that is ours and ours alone. To love, to protect, tostay. Despite the fires that rage, the attic you lock yourself in. You’re mine, and I want you. I want this baby more than you know, even if I fear our gifts being inherited. I’m yours, trust me on this, when I’ve never belonged toanyone. Because of my gift and my uncertain future, I shouldn’t ask. But I’m going to.” Swallowing tightly, he dropped his brow to hers. “Temple, love of my life, will you marry me? Will you come to Oxfordshire? Will you come home?”
Home. Since her father’s death, the accident that had caused her to flee America, she and Case had been orphans, in a way. Home was an empty Mayfair townhome in a vibrant city that had rejected them, the lack of soul and life in the hallways and sitting rooms and parlors, the missing sounds of family, a haunting echo. Drawing his hand to her belly, Delaney whispered her answer in his ear.Yes. She could have a family, behisfamily. And, frankly, they were well-matched, aside from the societal gap. Competitive, daring, affectionate, kind. Curious about the world and what they brought to it. She would help him, and he would help her. Over the years, they’d find their way.
How was it, she’d arrived in this foreign land, so unlike the one of her birth, and found the man with whom she’d spend her life? Found friends and the chance to use her gift?
Found her future.
How strange and wonderful and terrifying.
Sebastian straightened her tiara, his fingers sliding down her cheek. “You haven’t escaped to your attic, have you? While we stand in the place it’s modeled on? Looking for some astonishing element of the grand proposals that I’ve neglected to provide? Or whose marble bust is parked next to us?”
Delaney giggled, stunning herself because she wasn’t a giggler. Heavens, love for this man was making her soft. “No, I’m here, right here. Thinking how utterly perfect we are for each other, aside from the titles and that claptrap. And the ten or so years you have on me, which is ridiculous even to consider.”
“Does this acceptance mean there’ll be no more disputes across the billiard table or on the archery range? The chessboard to become dusty now that you’ve agreed to marriage? I am lord and ruler—”
She slipped her hand over his mouth, and smiling beneath it, he bit her palm. Lightly, but with enough suggestion to have heat swimming through her body. “How long did you say we have, Your Grace? One hour?”
His smile grew, the slide of his lips a sensual caress against her skin. He hummed, glanced around, then took her hand. “I see a shadowy nook behind the last bookcase perfect for arbitration of the marital agreement. And the chair tucked away there looks quite sturdy.”
She sighed, a gravelly, aroused sound, nothing giggly about it. Sebastianlovedmaking erotic use of chairs. Joyously enough, she’d found straddling him to be one of her favorite positions. Such control he allowed her, and she took willingly.