Page 34 of A Bride for the Rakish Duke

“Might you cease this flirtation, husband?” She met his gaze. “It will not work, and I cannot hear what they are singing, with you whispering in my ear.”

He blinked at her calm tone, drawing his hand away from her neck. But rather than leaving him cold, that rejection did something he could not have anticipated—it made the fire within him burn hotter. It seared him, pushing him toward the brink of doing something very stupid in a very public place. A kiss to startle her out of whatever this stirring façade was.

Reining in his wandering mind, he sat back in his chair and did not remove his gaze from the stage for the rest of the performance. If she had come to watch the opera, that was what they would do, even if it killed him.

Lydia was dazzling, making a debut as the Duchess of Stonebridge that was bound to be remembered. After the performance was over, the married couple had been bombarded with well wishes and congratulations, and countless ladies asking about her gown. Meanwhile, countless men had stared lewdly until they caught William’s warning glare and immediately dropped their gazes.

By the time they reached William’s carriage, he was not in the best of moods. It was one thing for her to parade herself in front of him like that in that divine gown, but it was quite another for her to laugh and smile and thank other gentlemen for their compliments while wearing that wretched, delicious thing.

He tutted as he held her hand and helped her into the carriage. “Another rule broken.”

She sat down on the squabs. “What rule?”

“Not flirting with any other gentlemen when we are in public together,” he replied, getting into the carriage.

“I was not flirting. I was being polite.”

He laughed stiffly. “You forget, I was watching you.”

“You cannot have been watching very closely. If you had been, you would have seen that my smiles were merely courtesy. After all, did you not want a wife who could earn you excellent connections?” She gestured to the still-busy steps of the Opera House. “At least five gentlemen invited you to tea while their wives have invited me to promenade. This is what you wanted.”

He sat down opposite her, furious that he could not argue with her point. Shehaddone wonders for his reputation and his position in Society by turning up that night, and hehadbeen invited for tea with gentlemen who, otherwise, would not have given him a second thought.

This is what you wanted…

The words turned around and around in his dazed mind, for he had thought he knew what he wanted. Now, he was not so sure. He had thought he could last a month. He had thought he could have a distant marriage. He had thought his will was stronger than hers. He had thought she would break first. He had thought that when he finally lay with her, it would be a functional matter—not passionless, but not anything new either.

She had burst in and confused him, thoroughly, behaving in a way thatshouldhave appalled him. Yet, his arousal only confused him more.

“Should you not tell the driver the address of my sister’s residence?” Lydia asked, searching for something in her reticule. While he was in turmoil, she was not even looking at him.

He smiled. “There is no need.”

“And why is that?”

“I told you, you are not going anywhere in that gown,” he replied. “Nowhere but my townhouse, where you belong as my duchess.”

Lydia smiled back, but it did not reach her beautiful eyes. “Well, I hope you have prepared a bedchamber for me.”

“There is one adjoining mine.”

“With a lock?”

His smile tightened. “Naturally.”

“Very well. I am tired, and I see no reason to argue.” She turned her gaze out of the window, resting her chin on her hand. “A bed is a bed. As long as we are each in our own, that is agreeable.”

As the carriage pulled away from the Opera House, he wished he had chosen to sit beside her. Sitting opposite was its own sort of trial, for the way she had positioned her body was nothing short of enrapturing, as if she were a muse posing for a famous artist.

Her back curved as she leaned toward the window, her legs turned out at an angle, her slender neck as elegant as that of a swan, her profile the most captivating thing he had ever seen.

Although, he wondered if he would be thinking the same thing if she had succumbed to his flirtations. Was it the forbidden element that made her so enticing, or was it just… her?

CHAPTER 14

William still had not answered that question when the carriage rocked to a halt outside his Mayfair townhouse. They had not spoken the entire way, nor had he realized how much time had passed—he had been too busy admiring what he was not allowed to have.

Still, he was not so easily defeated.

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