Page 50 of His Accidental Duchess

She glanced sharply back at him. “What do you mean?”

“About him being a poor friend. Of course, I think that heisa poor friend, but I implied that your friends are worthless, which I suppose was unkind. I haven’t even met the other one you mentioned.”

“Her name is Beatrice.”

“I’m unlikely to remember that.”

“You’ve met her before. You saw her at our wedding. And at our wedding breakfast!”

“And yet I am unmoved.”

She let out a long sigh, feeling some of the tension leaving her shoulders. Abruptly, her arms gave out, and she flopped onto her back again. The ground was cool and hard under her shoulders, and the smell of crushed grass drifted up all aroundthem. Now they were both lying side by side, on their backs, staring up at the sky.

“I’m not angry,” she said, at last. “I have nothing to complain about.”

He turned his head to look at her. “We’ve only been married one day.”

“And already my life has changed entirely. And you kept your promise. You’ve been out here with us for more than an hour, which is what I requested.”

He was still looking at her. Anna could feel his eyes boring into the side of her face. Goosebumps erupted over her skin.

“I’m free to go, then,” he said, his voice low.

She cleared her throat. “Yes, yes, you are, I suppose.”

More silence. But this time, it was an anticipatory silence. Anna found herself waiting, almost with bated breath, to see what he would do next.

Abruptly, he rolled over onto his side, and then he was almostonher, his chest pressing against her shoulder, his face looming over hers, and she could feel the warmth of his breath in the chilly air.

“Do you want me to go, Duchess?” he asked, his voice a little louder than a whisper.

She opened her mouth to tell him yes, she did want him to go, at once, preferably for good, but all that came out was a strangled squeak.

She saw the glint of his white teeth in the dark and felt the warmth of his fingertips on her throat, barely more than a whisper of touch.

Between one blink and the next, he was kissing her, his lips warm and soft and tasting of… tea and brandy, somehow?

Anna’s breath caught in her throat, and thatneedunfurled in her gut, hot and cold at the same time, and there was no use in pretending that it was anything other than desire and that anyone other than the wretched Theodore Stanley had inspired it.

Her hands were in his hair before she knew what she was doing, coarse red strands glinting in the moonlight and twining around her fingers.

He huffed out a laugh against her lips and pulled back.

She half wanted to chase after him, to get him to kiss her again and maybe touch her, too, like he was touching her neck, but Anna had enough self-control to lie still and wait to see what he would do.

“You want me,” Theodore said so smugly that she wanted to slap him.

Or perhaps kiss him. Or maybe both?

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, but I do, my darling wife. You want me, I can tell. It’ll be worth your while. Go on, then. Ask for me. Beg for me.”

Abruptly, she sat up, nearly bumping her forehead against his as she did so.

“Perhaps that’s true,” she said shortly, deliberately not looking at him. “Perhaps I do…like you, but it’s clear you have no respect for me. I won’t beg for anything, and certainly not for this. Until you have more respect for me, as your wife,the Duchess, the stepmother of Kitty and the mother of your future child, you won’t come near me. I won’t give in.”

He was quiet for a moment. When she risked a glance down at him he was leaning back on his elbows, watching her keenly. The moon sailed behind a cloud, casting him in shadows.

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