Page 63 of A Virgin for the Ruthless Duke

This love made her willing to do anything, be anything, to make him happy. Somewhere in the distance, the carcass of her long-abandoned pragmatism whispered that she was letting him play games with her emotions. Pulling her forward one minute, then withdrawing the next.

She knew she should be angry about this, but for the life of her, she could not. He was addictive, like laudanum. She wanted him for herself, and her only consolation was the fact that she was not the only one who was affected by the desire that coursed through her veins. She lived for the moments when he lost control and kissed her deeply.

She had never thought of playing the role of a sensual minx for him, but she contemplated it simply to watch the ultimate battle of his self-control against his desires. She loved it when his desires overpowered that legendary self-control.

She had come to realize quite painfully that the fact that he desired her—and was helpless against his desire for her—did not mean that he loved her or wanted to build a life with her.

The signs were there. Them meeting under the cover of the night while he trained her to attract a suitor, and him apologizing after each delicious interlude while referring to her need to attract a suitor.

The signs were quite glaring, but she was too blinded by her love and lust to see it. She had thought that, eventually, he would give in to his desires and marry her, but whatever stopped him from making an honest woman out of her was more powerful than his feelings for her.

While the idea of waiting for him was tempting, she could not. Time was against her. She was growing a little longer in the tooth, and her chances of finding a suitor decreased with every day that passed. She needed to secure a proposal soon, for Diana’s sake, and it seemed there would be none coming her way from the Duke.

She had to secure a marriage proposal soon, even if it was not the one she desired. She would simply have to settle for what was available, since the one she wanted was out of her reach.

When she came in from the balcony, where she had been sitting for the better part of thirty minutes, she saw Peter standing near the staircase with her aunt, their heads bowed together, their faces wreathed with smiles.

Martha kept shifting her weight from one foot to the other, and her body, Selina could see from a distance, was vibrating subtly. Her aunt was excited and was making a serious effort not to break into dance the way she wanted to. The fact that few things on this earth could excite the elderly woman caused Selina to walk a little faster to reach them.

When Selina was a few feet from them, Martha noticed her and flashed her a blinding smile. “Come, my dear,” she said, taking both of her hands.

“Good evening, My Lord,” Selina greeted Peter with an awkward curtsey, since her aunt was still holding her hands.

“Good evening, My Lady,” Peter replied with that charming half-smile that had half the ladies of the ton swooning.

The man was lethally handsome. So why couldn’t he inspire even a third of the desire that Richard did with just a smirk? Why couldn’t she desire him? All her problems would be solved if she did.

“I just received the most fantastic news, dearest,” Martha said, drawing her attention back to her.

“What might that be, Auntie?” Selina asked.

She already has an idea of what could inspire such happiness and contentment in her aunt, but she held back from assuming things and waited for her to break the news.

“Selina, my dear, it seems that you will soon be a countess,” Martha said, bouncing on her feet.

That announcement took some time to sink in.

“The Earl has just asked for your hand in marriage. He would have asked Stephen, but he is away. So he asked me,” Martha said, her voice brimming with such excitement and enthusiasm that she reminded Selina of a child standing before her unopened Christmas presents.

Martha looked her best when she was happy. Too bad that Selina could barely summon a smile. Surely this is what she had longed for and attended lessons for, so why did she feel so empty now?

Turning to Peter, she plastered on her brightest smile. Bobbing a curtsey, she gave him the sultry look that Richard had taught her—the one from beneath her lashes.

“I would be honored, My Lord, to be your wife, but perhaps this is a little fast. We have only just met, after all,” she said, ignoring the painful pinch Martha gave her.

She understood the reason for the pinch. She was committing the ultimate faux pas of looking a gift horse in the mouth.

“Yes, My Lady,” Peter said, lifting her hand and placing a kiss on it. “I am sure it is a little discomfiting that I am proposing this quickly. But I am fascinated by you, Lady Selina,” he admitted, smiling a little shyly at her. “I admire your wit—your intelligence is quite refreshing. You are the embodiment of everything I have been looking for in a wife. I am convinced of it. I want to marry you and bind you to me before any other man discovers what a rare gem you are and snatches you away.”

“Surely you do not mean that?” she tried to argue, uncomfortable under the affection in his eyes.

“Oh, but I do,” he said, holding her hands. “My words are rational, and you cannot say you do not know my heart by now. I love our conversations. They make me question the norms and put a lightness in me I have not felt with anyone else. You truly are a rare gem. It would hurt me if I were to miss eternity with you.”

Perhaps if he had made a declaration of love and had tried to flatter her by extolling her beauty the way some of her suitors did, she might have found it easy to refuse him.

But, on paper, Peter was a perfect match. He was handsome, titled, intelligent, and an excellent conversationalist who was interested in most of the topics she liked. Marrying him would be like marrying her best friend.

Their marriage was guaranteed to be filled with laughter and happiness, with many good-looking children running around their feet. She could see it now. Peter was going to be a great father, nothing like Society’s perception of parenting. She suspected that he would be content to play with his children.

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