Page 8 of A Virgin for the Cruel Duke

Why was he so tall! So frustratingly handsome? Why couldn’t he have been at least a little ugly so she could look at his face and not feel heat in her veins at the same time?

“Wife,” Stephen said seriously, turning to her, his hands clasped behind his back. “I am aware it has been a trying day, but I ask you to remember your position as the new Duchess of Westall. You are no longer the kind of person that Lord Barnes may speak to the way that he was doing.”

Was hescoldingher? Elizabeth felt a little of her anxiety fade and be replaced with anger. “I am distressed that family matters should have so upset you, Your Grace,” she said with slow deliberation. “Perhaps you could educate me on how you would like me to respond in future since you are the expert on all matters.”

“You would do well to listen to such instruction,” he said, the muscles in his jaw bunching a little as though he were grinding his teeth. “You are clearly ill-prepared to take on the part of being Duchess and you have a lot to learn. It is not my fault that this is true and I shall not apologize for pointing it out.”

“And I shall not apologize for pointing out that you are speaking like a pontificating old school master trying to teach a class of children,” Elizabeth snapped back. “I shall treat my brother how I decide to treat my brother, it is not for you to tell me the way I should act.”

“It is my business if you act in a manner which undermines the respect our family is due!”

“Oh please, Your Grace, do tell me,” she knew that she was speaking too much, saying too much but his wordshurtand she could not help but battle back. She would never again be part of a world where all she could do was suffer in silence. “Exactly what respect is that?”

“The respect that you are failing to show me, as your husband and as the Duke of this estate.”

“I am a quick study, Your Grace, I learn from experience. I shall show you the same respect I receive from you and no more.”

Stephen made an explosive gesture with one of his hands. “Why must everything be a battle with you, woman!”

“I cannot be blamed for waging war on a battle ground that has been picked for me,” Elizabeth retorted. “Perhaps you should reconsider your approach, my husband.”

“Perhaps,” he said, stepping closer to her in a long stride, his height looming over her. He leaned down and caught her chin in his scarred fingers, his touch warm even as his eyes were burning with anger and heat. “Perhaps I should introduce you to this new approach when I come to your chambers tonight, my wife.”

Elizabeth swallowed hard, her words evaporating in her mouth as he leaned close, his face near to hers, their eyes locked on each other's. It seemed her body was intensely aware of his, of the mere inches between them. It felt as though she might break apart with how he made her feel, it felt as though she might die if he were to ever know about it. It was like being pinned by a hunter, waiting for him to strike.

“Until then,” he said softly, let her go and walked from the room, leaving her weak, her chest heaving and her face aflame. What had happened? What wasthat? What was she going to do?

CHAPTER 4

Thewench. The obstinatechit. She made everythingimpossible!

Stephen stalked through the halls of his house, his fists still clenched in frustration and his thoughts in a fury over how quickly and easily he lost control in the presence of his new bride.

Just like the first time they had met she was a thorn that worked her way under his skin until he could not help himself but respond to her.

It was not the way he liked to do things. In all his dealings he preferred to be,neededto be meticulous and thoughtful. Stephen planned and prepared, he considered all the possibilities and then he made his move. Even when he was acting fast, he had thought of the consequences but when he was around Elizabeth all that discipline flew away from him and he found himself justreacting.

With a huff of exasperation, he turned his path and made his way to Herbert’s chambers, knocking on the solid wood of the door and waiting for an answer before letting himself in. His younger brother was lying on a day bed with a book in hand and a cup of hot chocolate from the breakfast at his side.

Even though it was barely the evening, the breakfast having drawn out longer than Stephen had liked even with the Barnes being surprisingly eager to leave, Herbert was still recovering from the last duel and was in the habit of retiring early to rest.

Stephen drew up a chair and cast a careful look over his brother, checking him for paleness or hidden pain. It had been not quite as near a thing as Stephen had at first feared when the seconds had brought his brother back to the estate as pale as a sheet and bleeding profusely, but he was still sometimes caught in that moment of cold horror and needed to be assured that Herbert was still with them.

“What on earth are you doing here, old man?” Herbert asked, his usual quick grin on his face, dimpling his cheeks. “Are you not a bridegroom who should be with his bride?”

“I wanted to see that you were still well,” Stephen admitted, stealing Herbert’s drink and sipping the sweet frothy contents. “I see that Diana visited.”

“I like chocolate too, thank you,” Herbert said, taking it back with a deftness that Stephen was pleased to see. “But she did tell Perkins to bring some by to me when she heard that I was turning in.”

“I thought so. Any new pains? Any old ones?”

“I am fine, Stephen, you good old fellow do stop fretting,” Herbert leaned towards him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Come on now, let’s talk intrigue instead. I am getting deuced bored being confined to quarters here and not being able to get about like I’m used to.”

Herbert was far happier riding his horse, hunting or playing any number of games that he could get involved in than being around the house and Stephen knew that his convalescence was weighing on him. Therefore he did not scold or remonstrate over the new topic, but instead sighed.

“There is no intrigue to talk about. The matter is done, the peace is settled and we are now connected to the Barnes family by blood. It will take a lot more than the bad moods of Dudley Barnes to break that if Rosenburg’s attitude is anything to go by.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Herbert said darkly, running a hand down his side where the sword had caught him. “Young Barnes has enough bad moods to float a naval ship, I think.”

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