Page 31 of The Duke and the Runaway Bride

“Not in good shape? What do you mean? Does my father know? You should have told me.”

Edwin gave a wry smile. “This coming from the woman who tricked me into marriage and used to dress as a man to sneak out at night. There is nothing to worry about, and your father does not need to know anything. My estate is in the best shape it has been since I inherited the dukedom, and it will soon be in fine shape, then good shape, and then great shape. My father left us with a lot of debt.”

“Oh,” Beatrice murmured. “I didn’t know that.”

“Not many do, and you shall tell no one, not even your father. I have worked for years to right the wrongs of the past, and I won’t fail now.”

Beatrice held his gaze. “I know you won’t.”

He stared back at her, and her eyes were still clouded with lust, but there was compassion there, too. He hadn’t talked about this to many people, enough to count on one hand, but something about the woman before him made him want to open up.

“My father was a good man,” Edwin continued. “A very good man. Generous—perhaps too generous. Many people took advantage of his good nature, and I regret arguing with him about that so much. We were on good terms, but his downfall was hard to watch. I assumed that downfall—the debts, the reputational damage, the embarrassment.”

“I didn’t know any of this,” Beatrice murmured. “I never meant to anger you or stir up the past.”

“You haven’t done either,” Edwin stated. “Not many know my father was the one who put us in so much debt. After he passed and the dukedom passed on to me, I could start making the decisions he was never able to. I had to do things he would never have done, but I did it for my family and his reputation. That is why I have not spent money on our wedding or anything superfluous. We can’t spend on those things when there is still work to be done.”

“I understand,” Beatrice said, placing her fork down after finishing the last of the parsnips on her plate.

“My father had his flaws, but he was a good man, and I want people to remember him as such. I would rather be called names than have him called worse and turning in his grave.”

Beatrice placed her hand on his. “I could see the truth in what Elizabeth told me earlier. She told me you were not cruel but misunderstood. I don’t believe you have been the cruel man they say you are.”

“I am cruel when necessary,” the Duke replied.

The warmth of her hand seeped into his bones, and he tried to control his breathing. Beatrice was not looking at him. Rather, she was looking down at the table instead. Her chest rose and fell invitingly, and she didn’t remove her hand from his.

“You are a good man,” she said, still looking down. “You are honorable and decent for what you have done for your father. And you are hardworking and persistent for working so hard to regain what was once yours. Perhaps you are not unlike your father.”

Edwin withdrew his hand. “Iamunlike him. He was weak and let people take advantage of him. My father’s love and generosity are what got my family into this mess. I have to be cruel because people are cruel. If people were like my father, everything would be fine. They are not, so I cannot be. I will not be. I will not be weak—too many people depend on my strength.”

“You are too hard on yourself,” Beatrice whispered.

Edwin looked at her, but she still did not return his gaze.

“I know you are not cruel,” she insisted in a low voice.

“You know a lot about me without spending much time with me,” Edwin said. “How do you know you have not gotten me all wrong? What if I am not the man you think I am?”

“That might be true, but I don’t believe it. I am a very good judge of character. I might not see entirely who you are, but I know who you are not. You are right, we have not spent much time together, but during that time, I have not seen cruelty. You have been gracious and well-intentioned. You’re giving me time and space before you take me into your bed. Those do not sound like the actions of a cruel man.”

“Is that all it takes not to be a cruel man?” Edwin asked, smiling. He stood up and loomed over her. “You believe I am a good man because I did not ravish you on our wedding night. I have thought about taking you in my bed ever since you arrived here, so what does that make me?”

“It makes you… it makes you…”

Beatrice faltered. She bit her bottom lip, and more color rushed to her cheeks—not embarrassment but warmth. She looked up at him like a doe caught in a clearing.

“Then what does it make me if I do this?”

Edwin did not give her time to react. He bent down and kissed her neck, nibbling on the skin just enough to coax a gasp from her lips. He cupped the back of her head in his hand to claim her as his own.

I had to be cruel to get where I am today, and I will have to do more. You don’t know me. No one knows me.

Beatrice did not fight back. She did not try to escape either. What she did surprised him. She grabbed onto his shirt with both hands and tugged his body toward her almost hard enough to send him crashing to the floor, with her beneath him.

ChapterTwelve

What’s For Dessert?

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