Page 31 of Wedded to the Ruthless Duke

“Then I’ll visit you until you are.” There was still that infernal formality radiating off him. He didn’t even let his eyes wander anymore.

“And that is what I shall be to you? Like breeding cattle?”

His expression darkened, his face leaning an inch forward and his chin tilting down. There was something dangerous in that expression, but at least, it was a change to the formality. She couldn’t resist wanting to push him further until all show of his formal reserve was gone.

“Let me understand this correctly.” She leaned forward an inch or so across the piano, moving closer to him. “When we are leaving separate lives, we will be free to take other lovers?”

Something snapped in the Duke. He marched around the piano with such purpose that Grace leaned back again. She turned, ready to escape him, but he caught the back of her frilly gown and used it to tow her back to him. She fell against the curve of the piano, planting her hands there behind her as he stood before her.

One of his hands rested on the piano cover beside her own, the fingers not quite touching though they were tantalizingly close to doing so.

He bent down toward her, his lips, finding the curve of her ear.

“I will not have you talking of other lovers when I haven’t even made you mine yet,” he hissed in her ear.

Stunned at the possession in the words, she trembled. A sort of pleasant shiver passed up her spine.

His hand moved from where it nearly brushed her fingers. She thought for a second that he might take her hand, but she was wrong. The stolen touch did not come to her hand but to her hip. He gripped her through the gown and used it to rock her hips toward him.

She inhaled sharply at the excitement rippling thought her as her hips briefly brushed his own.

“You’ll be mine first,” he warned, bending his head down toward her. Those burnished eyes were coming closer, those firm lips nearing hers. She was breathless, her mouth dry as she anticipated that kiss. He was about to kiss her again, plaster her with the same heat she had experienced the night before, but at this piano then —

“Ahem,” someone innocently cleared their throat.

Philip released her, stepping back. Abruptly, it was as if the spell had been broken. He moved away, adjusting his tailcoat, formality and reserve in his every movement.

“Grace?” Tabitha’s voice called from the other side of the door. She evidently was the one who had cleared her throat to make her presence known to them. “Your mother is looking for you, and she is heading this way.”

“Th-thank you, Tabitha,” Grace managed to stammer out the words as she called back to the door.

Tabitha’s steps moved away. In the quiet that followed, Grace looked at the Duke.

He was the regal brother to Eleanor again, standing at a distance from her, not a chink in the fixed expression he wore.

“Do we have an agreement?” he asked, not even looking at her, for his gaze was fixed on the door.

Grace thought of her father. She had so badly wanted to make her father proud of her in her life. She knew it must have been crushing him to see her name plastered across the scandal sheets yet again.

As for her mother, Grace doubted she could ever make her proud, but perhaps this would be a way to at least stop all the insults. Could Althea manage to like her a little more if she married and became a duchess? At the very least, a new home would mean she could escape her mother. She could run away from Althea, and control exactly how much she had to put up with the woman’s company.

Then there was Tabitha, too. Her poor cousin would suffer from association if Grace did not marry now.

I have no choice.

Grace raised her hand and looked at the Duke.

“We do,” she murmured.

He didn’t even spare her a second glance as he strode back toward the door.

“Good. I shall write to your father this week when the arrangements are settled.” Then he was gone, disappearing out the door and leaving her swaying against the piano.

It took her a minute to realize after he had left what he said.

He will not write to me. He’s going to write to my father instead?

CHAPTER11

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