Page 11 of The Spinster and Her Rakish Duke (The Athena Society #3)

“I trust you’re settling in well?”

Samantha looked up from her soup to find the duke studying her across the dinner table, which was considerably smaller than the one they’d used the night before. The intimate setting made her acutely aware of his presence, of the way the candlelight played across his features.

“Yes, thank you. Mrs. Thatcher has been most helpful.”

“She’s been with the household for fifteen years. Very reliable.” He cut into his roast beef with precise movements. “I understand you’ve been quite thorough in your exploration of the estate.”

Heat crept up her neck. “I believe it’s important to understand one’s responsibilities.”

“Indeed. And what conclusions have you drawn?”

“That Valemont Hall is very well-managed. You should be proud of what you’ve accomplished here.”

Something flickered in his green eyes: surprise, pleasure? She couldn’t quite tell. “Thank you. That means a great deal, coming from you.”

“Why would my opinion matter more than anyone else’s?” She did not want to think too much about his words.

“Because you’re my wife.” The simple statement sent warmth flooding through her chest. “Your approval matters to me.”

“Ah.” She did not know what to say to that, so she said nothing else.

They ate in silence for several minutes, but Samantha was acutely aware of his every movement, every glance. When he finally spoke again, his voice was carefully controlled.

“I’ve been thinking about our conversation from the other day. About the… expectations of our marriage.”

Samantha’s hand stilled on her wine glass. “What about them?”

“I believe it’s time we discussed the matter of consummating our union.”

The words sent her heart pounding into overdrive. She set down her glass with trembling fingers, her appetite vanishing entirely.

“I see.”

“Do you?” He leaned forward slightly, his eyes intense. “I want you, Samantha. I’ve made no secret of that. But I won’t force you. When you come to my bed, it will be because you want to be there.”

“And if I never want to be there?”

His smile was purely predatory. “Oh, but you will. We both know that. It is but a matter of time.”

“Your arrogance is astounding.” But even as she said it, she could feel her pulse quickening, her body responding to the promise in his voice.

“Is it arrogance if it’s true?” He reached across the table, his fingers brushing hers. “You can’t even look at me without blushing. Your breathing changes when I’m near you. You want me just as much as I want you.”

She jerked her hand away, but the damage was done. Her skin tingled where he’d touched her, and she was mortifyingly aware that he was right—she was breathless, her heart racing.

“Physical attraction is not significant to me,” she said, proud that her voice remained steady. “And without the possibility of children, what purpose would consummation serve?”

The moment the words left her mouth, she knew she’d made a mistake. His expression darkened, all traces of seductive humor vanishing.

“I told you. I will not have children.”

“But why?” The question burst from her before she could stop it. “You’re a duke. It’s your duty to provide an heir.”

“Duty.” He practically spat the word. “Do you have any idea what that even means?”

“Do not presume that I do not. I am no fool, Your Grace,” Samantha lashed back, not pleased at being treated like a dunce.

But it seemed that her husband was in no mood for civil conversation. His green eyes were blazing now. “Do you know what many ladies of the ton do when they have children? They hand them off to nurses and governesses and forget they exist. They neglect their most basic duty as mothers.”

“I wouldn’t,” Samantha said quietly. “I would never neglect my children.”

He stared at her for a long moment, something unreadable flickering in his expression.

“No,” he said finally, his voice softer. “You wouldn’t. The way you protect your sister… the way you’ve cared for her all these years.”

“She’s my responsibility.” She said quietly.

“Is she?” He tilted his head, studying her with an intensity that made her squirm. “Or is it simply that you’ve been caring for others your entire life? Your sister, your uncle’s household, everyone except yourself.”

Samantha did not like how he spoke the words as though he knew everything about her. And yet, she also didn’t like how close he’d gotten to the truth. “Someone has to.”

“Is that so? Or is it that you simply do not know how to live any other way?” He leaned back in his chair, his expression gentling slightly. “Perhaps it’s time you learned to live for yourself, Samantha. To take what you want instead of always giving.”

The words shook her more than she cared to admit. Had she been living for everyone else? Always putting others’ needs before her own, always sacrificing her own happiness for duty and propriety?

But then sanity reasserted itself. This man was a rake, a seducer. He would say anything to get what he wanted from her. And they both knew what it was that he wanted from her now.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to accomplish with this conversation,” she said, her voice carefully controlled. “But I won’t be manipulated by pretty words and false concern.”

Something flickered in his eyes: hurt, perhaps, or disappointment. But then his expression shuttered, returning to its usual composed mask.

“Of course not,” he said quietly. “Forgive me. I seem to have overstepped.”

They finished their meal in silence, the weight of unspoken words hanging between them like a tangible thing.

And as Samantha escaped to her chambers once again, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d just made a terrible mistake.

But what else could she have done? He was dangerous. To her peace of mind, to her carefully constructed defenses, to everything she’d built to protect herself from further heartbreak.

She would not be made a fool of again. No matter how much her traitorous body seemed to want otherwise.