Page 39 of His Accidental Duchess

She stared at him for a long moment. The wind was strong out here, whipping her hair and dress. The folly loomed over them, looking for all the world as if it were a centuries-old ruin.

She held her arms out to the sides. “Of course, there is a reason. Aren’t we going to talk about last night?”

He narrowed his eyes. “I thought I was perfectly clear. I have no intention of warming your bed until you truly want me to.”

“I thought we had an agreement.”

“We did, but agreement or not, I won’t force myself on an unwilling woman. If you are wishing my brother were here…”

“I amnot!”

“Well then, convince me of it.”

There was a pause after that. Anna eyed her husband, searching for a hint of… ofsomething. She had no idea what she was looking for, only that she was not finding it.

“You really mean it, don’t you?” she said at last, her voice flat.

He eyed her for a long moment. “I never say anything I don’t mean. That is something you should know about me.”

Anna drew in a deep breath, squeezing her eyes shut. “Listen,Your Grace. The reason I agreed to your rather sordid rule about beingsummonedis that I want the freedom you promised. And… and more than that, I want to have a child.”

That was the first time she had admitted it aloud. Anna had long since resigned herself to spinsterhood. It wasn’t all bad, after all. She had friends and a loving family, and even ifher financial situation was not good—dire, more like—she had relative freedom, something denied to many of her married acquaintances. She did not have to dance around a man’s whims like she was doing now.

But there was one thing she could not find in respectable spinsterhood, and that was children. Her own children. Babies.

Theodore raised an eyebrow, almost imperceptibly. “I did not imagine you were the maternal type, my dear.”

She sighed. “I wasn’t always. But… I have a knack with children, and I do want a child of my own someday. Not… not a large family, but one or even two children would be wonderful. And I cannot have that if you won’t give me one.”

“No,” he agreed. “It is difficult to produce children by oneself. Impossible, some would say.”

“You’re laughing at me.”

“I’m only stating a fact.”

There was a taut silence between them, broken only by the distant howl of the wind. The sky above was tumultuously cloudy, and the ground was soft and smelled fresh after the rain. Anna noticed, in a vague sort of way, that there was a narrow path up the side of the hill leading to the folly, and she wondered if Theodore made this walk every single day, never changing his route.

She deflated a little.

“Well enough, Your Grace, have it your way. We’ll get better acquainted before we start trying for an heir.”

“You are too kind,” he answered acerbically. “Are you returning to the house, then? Must I escort you back, or can you find your way?”

“Not so fast. I haven’t finished. I would like to add a condition to our new terms.”

He tilted his head to the side. “How interesting. I shall hear you, but don’t count on my accepting the new terms.”

She rolled her eyes. “You dearly love the sound of your voice, don’t you?”

“Of course, I do. Don’t you enjoy the sound of yours?” He leaned forward, grinning wolfishly. “Now that you mention it, your voiceissomewhat shrill.”

Anna resisted the urge to kick him in the shins. One could never tell with this man; he might well kick her back. Harder.

“How am I to like you enough to ask for your company if I never see you?” she pointed out, rather pleased with her self-restraint.

Theodore’s lips curled into a smug, little smile. “I believe the word I used was notask, butbeg.”

She bristled. “I am not going tobegyou for anything.”

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