Page 10 of Wedded to the Scottish Duke

“Barely, but ye did, aye.”

“Then what do you want from me in return?”

“Ye’re a matchmaker,” he mused.

“I was.” She almost tripped in surprise. This was not where she had expected their conversation to go. “I have taken considerable pride in matching up my sister and our friends with dukes.”

He abruptly stopped walking. Just a step in front of him, she turned back, finding she had to constantly crane her neck to look at his face.

“I’ma duke,” he said in that deep baritone that had attracted her the night before, even without being able to see him.

She tried not to fidget at that sound, for it was calling her toward him again, rather like the song of sirens that had enticed Grecian sailors onto the rocks.

“So you are, but I have no friends left to offer you,” she said with an exaggerated smile. “And something tells me that you would not be content with the one unmarried woman left.”

She held up her left hand and waved it comically.

When he raised both eyebrows at her, dismissively, she laughed. “Have no fear. I would not want to marry you either.”

She dropped her hand and turned her back on him, walking on.

A brief image of the lady he would marry flashed through her mind. That woman would be tangled in bedsheets with him someday. She would be the one to feel those strong arms braced above her. Maybe she would hold on to his shoulders, run her fingers down those biceps…

Enough!

She had to bark at her mind to stop such thoughts.

“I have no need of a bold wife,” he hissed under his breath, suddenly back at her side.

Clearly, he had no intention of slowing down for her, but she was able to keep pace with him thanks to her long legs.

“No man claims to want a spirited wife.” She looked around the garden. “Typical. Every man wants an obedient one.”

It was what she had seen, time and time again in her life. So many men clicked their fingers and just expected their wives to fall in line.

Though there were some couples that had recently challenged such a thought in her. Xander and Violet certainly didn’t fit this mold. Yet, she didn’t doubt that most men commanded their wives and expected silent acceptance in return.

“Let me come to the crux of this matter.”

“Please do,” she urged.

“Find me a wife by the end of the month, or everyone will hear of yer little swim last night.”

She stumbled in alarm. When his hand came up, taking hold of her arm to steady her, she had to yank her arm back fast.

She wasn’t sure exactly why she backed up so quickly. Maybe the fear of being seen with his hand on her, the anger at his blackmail, or the disbelief that she had liked that touch. Either way, she nearly raised her hand and slapped him across the face.

Rather than looking afraid when he saw her hand twitching, he looked amused. He actuallychuckled. It was the first time she had seen him laugh as she lowered her hand before anyone in the group ahead could see what she had nearly done.

“You barbarian,” she snapped at him, trying to keep her voice low so no one else heard her. “You would actually threaten me?”

“Do you see a man of honor before ye?” His lips lifted into a smirk. Irritatingly, it made him look even more handsome thanbefore. “There is no such illusion. I am no man of honor. I do not always do what’s right.” He took a small step toward her. “I do what’s necessary.”

“And blackmail is necessary, is it?” she hissed at him, well aware that they were probably standing too close to one another now.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Violet waving madly at her. Slowly, Celia stepped back before Lady Arundel could see the two of them so near one another.

“It is. I expect you in my room tonight so we can discuss the details of your mission.”

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