Page 54 of A Bride for the Rakish Duke

She shuffled as far back against the squabs as she could and shook her head, giving him the answer that he had been dreading. Then again, it was probably for the best, considering their location. It would not have served either of them well if they had been spotted doing what William had hoped to do, and even if they were not seen, her cries of bliss would not have gone unheard.

“Very well,” he said, returning to his side of the carriage. “In that case, you broke my rule this evening. You danced with another in public. For that, you may expect a severe punishment.”

She gripped the edge of the squabs, just as he had done. “You will not hurt me, will you?”

“I am not a brute, Lydia,” he replied, offended. “Your punishment shall match the crime.”

She seemed puzzled by that. “Are you going to make me dance with you until I cannot dance anymore? Are you going to make me watch while you dance with another lady?” She paused, smiling in a way that confused him. “I have it on good authority that that can be more of a… titillation than a punishment.”

What?

Who had taught her to think and speak that way? He did not know, nor did he know why he enjoyed it so much. Ladies had flirted with him before, but only she seemed capable of getting under his skin.

“And this is why I do not like the company you keep,” William said, feigning a tut. “They are corrupting such an innocent young lady.”

She met his gaze with more of her former ferocity. “No, Wolfie, I believe that was you.”

He could not help but smile, wondering if she was imagining the way his fingertips had strummed her secret bud like the most delicate instrument, wondering if she was picturing him pressing against her in her bed, peeling away the bedlinens to more than fulfill his duties as a husband. Of course, she had stopped him, but he liked to think she had imagined it proceeding.

Unless she does not know?

It was a possibility, for though mothers and married sisters would usually take it upon themselves to inform a new bride of what she might expect, they did not always.

As he considered what knowledge she might and might not have, the driver pulled away from Bruxton Hall, with Lydia’s loadedcarriage following behind. Indeed, it begged the question of where, exactly, he intended to take his wife. Back to London or back to Stonebridge?

He banged on the side of the carriage and called out, “To Stonebridge.”

“Aye, Your Grace,” the driver called back as Lydia looked on in dismay.

Lydia watched Will as he slept, propped up in the corner of the carriage, appalled that he could simply doze away the hours after the indignity he had wrought upon her, not caring one bit about all of the explaining she would have to do when she saw her sister and her friends again. If she had not been so furious with him, she might have found his ability to fall asleep in an instant rather impressive. At present, she was more envious of the talent.

No, I shall not let him win by having a good rest either.

Gathering her courage, she kicked him in the shin.

He awoke with a start, cursing under his breath as he reached down and started rubbing the injured spot. “Did you just kick me?” he asked, grimacing.

“I was having a nightmare,” she replied, her voice saccharine sweet. “I must have done it by accident.”

He arched an eyebrow. “If you say so. I do not believe you, but if you say so.”

Now that she had his attention, after simmering in silence for several hours, she was not going to waste the opportunity. “I thought you ought to know that I will accept my punishment, but first I shall say my piece. I might have broken a rule, according to you, but you have broken your promise to me.”

“In what way?” He continued to rub his shin, his eyes fixed on her.

“You promised me freedom, but I do not feel free,” she replied, her tone serious. “You marched me out of Bruxton Hall in a most unseemly fashion, you have informed me that you do not like my friends with a thinly veiled suggestion that I keep my distance, you are now dictating where I may go and when, and I am certain that when this month is over, you will return to your old ways, and I will be left humiliated and… lonely.”

As she spoke, she realized that she meant it. Perhaps that was why her tone came out colder than she had intended.

He stopped rubbing the spot that would probably bruise. “Why would you be humiliated and lonely?”

“Because vows were taken, Will,” she said tersely. “Vows thatItake seriously. A husband and wife are supposed to be loyal to one another. Infidelity is a… blight upon the very institution of marriage, and while there are undoubtedly countless couples out there who do as they please and do not mind—goodness, perhaps it makes their marriage better, I do not know—I am not someone who is capable of that.”

He sat back and peered at her as if she were speaking an obscure dialect of French that he could not understand. “But that is where freedom lies. You are free to find what I cannot give.”

“You say that,” she replied, her nerves jangling, “yet you have chosen to hate your mother for believing that very same thing. I do not know if the rumors about her are true or not, but you seem to believe them, and if that is so, why damn her for the thing you have just called freedom? Why damn her for doing the same thing that you want to?”

For a fleeting second, she saw his unflappable exterior crack. His eyes widened slightly and glazed over, his mouth going slack, a soft breath hissing out of the back of his throat as if she had winded him. But he recovered quickly, shaking it off as he put on a cold smile.

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