Page 2 of Worst Duke Ever (Everly Sisters #1)
Chapter 2
“W hat kind of offers?” Her voice shook at the question, which unsettled him. And the fact that it unsettled him at all unsettled him further.
Yes. What kind of offers, Sebastian? He was asking himself that exact question. Here was a lady, the daughter of an earl, risking everything for her family who was in mourning and now near ruination. Shouldn’t he applaud her courage?
That would be the right thing to do. The kind thing to do. The honorable thing to do. But he hadn’t been that way since…well, for a very long time now.
Internally, he shuddered at the thought.
“There are ways.” Best keep it vague to see what she came back with.
With great effort to not reach out and drag his finger down the soft column of her neck, he returned to his seat. He may not be a man of honor, but he was not fully debauched. There were lines even he wouldn’t cross.
Once he regained the comfort of his chair, he dragged his eyes up her body to rest upon her face.
Her brows scrunched together and lips pursed still made him catch his breath. Earlier he had used the word pretty in an effort to downplay his real thoughts. Exquisite. Gorgeous. A goddess. But saying anything akin to those would reveal his cards. Cards he always kept close to his chest.
“You have a reputation that you said you have to maintain. I-I think maybe you don’t want to maintain it in its current state. Perhaps we can come to an arrangement?”
Watching her grimace at the offer, his stomach clenched. “What kind of arrangement?”
“I can’t have this debt. Perhaps you want a softer reputation. We could marry.”
She should have built up to a proposition like that, but, no. She stated the ideas as if they were facts. Three simple facts. Each thought felt incomplete, but in and of themselves, they were full.
Full of what though? Hope? Pleasantry? Convenience? All things that Sebastian avoided like a man dodging his wife’s requests to go shopping.
“Marry?” He coughed. Or laughed. Or choked. Some strange strangled sound tumbled out of his mouth. “You and I?”
That would never do. She was kind. Sweet. Responsible. A lady. Pure.
And he…was not.
“Yes.” She wrung her hands in front of her stomach, and his foot ached to tap the aubusson rug or run the length up her shin. But he refrained. From both. “We could marry. It would solve both problems.”
“That’s a little hubristic of you to believe, isn’t it?” It wasn’t. But he had to poke holes in this plan. Plan? What plan? This was not a plan. It was wishful thinking on her part. And if he allowed it, it would be wishful thinking on his part as well. That he could ever allow himself a soft, kind wife was a fleeting thought that had fled the building that was his corporeal home long, long ago.
But instead of cowering, she straightened her spine and took a half step toward him.
“I know my reputation shines as brightly as yours absorbs light.”
“So you don’t think mine will eclipse yours then?”
“Light will prevail.”
Damn. If she wasn’t speaking to his soul. What little soul he had left. But he didn’t deserve her. Didn’t deserve to have any goodness. Not after what he had done to his own father. Best that he show her the fullness of his depravity now.
“I would never marry for convenience.”
Her face fell, and something in his heart crumbled. Which, of course, was impossible. There was nothing left there. Perhaps it was just a loose remnant of a pebble rolling around in there.
“It would be a marriage to benefit us both. It would be in name only. You would be free to…to…carry on with others.”
Cheating on his wife, even if she consented, soured his stomach.
“You think I’d treat my wife like that?”
“You wouldn’t?” Her eyes widened as she canted her head to the side. Her hand came up to the base of her neck, looking for something. Perhaps a necklace.
He shook his head slowly and ground out the words with perfect enunciation. “I would never do that.” Upon his life, he would never treat his family the way his mother had treated him.
“Oh.” Her head dropped to stare at her feet, and he watched her skirts gently swish side to side. Finally, her chin tilted up. “I mean, I would be your wife.” Rounded eyes, with the diameter of a teacup, caught his gaze.
Her saying that word wife, seized him between his legs. He could feel a dull ache at the idea that she might lay with him.
But he couldn’t do that. Couldn’t have her. He didn’t deserve her goodness. Her courage.
Her father rightfully owed him money, his entire estate to be precise, and he could claim that. The family would figure something out. That wasn’t his problem. It should never have been in the past, and it certainly wasn’t now.
His conscience warred within him, and he knew that he needed to deter this woman once and for all. Sure, he could throw her out of his house, but he had a feeling she was the type of persistent woman to continue coming back until she got the answer she wanted. Best to have her flee of her own accord. For good.