Page 12 of His Enemy Duchess

She dropped her chin to her chest, huffing out a steadying breath. “Please…”

No word had ever sounded more satisfying, the breathy whisper of it having a peculiar effect on him, a man who prided himself on his steadfast rationality, his ‘reasonableness’. It was like a spell or curse being woven, unleashing something inside him that he did not know he possessed. A part of him that wanted her to beg forgiveness for her earlier insolence.

“Please what?” he said, his voice a quiet rumble.

Her eyes flickered up, her throat bobbing. “Please reconsider.” That breathy sound again, prompting him to drag his teethacross his lower lip. “Please say you will proceed with this, helping me save us all.”

He closed the gap between them, half expecting her to flee down the porch steps. To his partial satisfaction, she held her ground, breathing hard as he bent his head and whispered close to her ear, “But are you ready to become my wife, Lady Sophia?”

The scent of her skin struck him like a punch, infiltrating his senses with its honey sweetness, a note of spicy warmth, a hint of citrus, and the earthy floral of lavender. Intoxicating.

He could not resist it, his lips barely skimming that maddening curve of her neck where the delicious scent was strongest, inviting him to take a bite.

She shivered, her breath catching in her throat as she murmured, “I am. I have to be.”

The sound of her panting those words loosened the restraints that held back the darker side of him. He nipped the sweet flesh of her neck, just enough for there to be pressure but no pain.

“Very well,” he purred, stepping back. “Now, run along before you are missed.”

She stayed frozen there for a moment, eyes wide, mouth open, breathing raggedly, her hand sliding slowly up to her chest and coming to rest over her heart. Was it racing? Was she intriguedor terrified? Did she truly know what she was getting herself into?

“I will… write soon,” she gasped before she turned tail and ran.

Thomas watched her go, brushing his thumb over his lips as if he expected to feel a trace of her on them. If his bite left a mark, all the better. The Kendalls would see it and know to whom she belonged now.

CHAPTER 4

Sophia sat at the breakfast table, pushing cold eggs around her plate, her stomach already too full with the secret she was carrying. She had not slept, replaying the events at Thomas’s doorstep in her mind again and again—not just what the future held, but the outlandish bite that, more outlandishly, had left her breathless and all aflutter.

And I thought his kissing my bare hand was roguish enough.

A rush of heat began to climb up from her chest as she remembered the tickling graze of his lips, just before the bite.

“Another fashion that is popular in Paris?” James’s voice drew her attention away from her eggs… and the bewildering memory of Thomas so close to her, biting her as if he were a vampire and she his virgin sacrifice.

Sophia cleared her dry throat. “Pardon?”

“That thing around your neck.” James chuckled, pointing his fork at the white silk neckerchief that she wore to hide the small bruise that Thomas had left behind, and prayed would not draw any attention.

Curse you, James.

She should have known her brother would notice immediately.

“Don’t tell me that you have leaped aboard this fascination withvampyres.” He flashed his teeth and made his fingers into claws. “That wretch Lord Byron is to blame. I do hope you have not read such a thing.”

There had been a short work of fiction published in theNew Monthly Magazinejust a few weeks ago that had sent all of Society—primarily, the ladies—into a hysteria. Apparently written by Lord Byron himself, no one could get enough of the mysterious protagonist, Lord Ruthven, and his thirst for the blood of beautiful, innocent women.

“I thought it was awful,” Sophia muttered, for though shehadread it, she could not understand the feminine fascination with a man who literally preyed on unsuspecting women. “The scarf is to keep my neck warm. I caught a chill this morning.”

James frowned. “Are you well? Can I pour you some tea?”

“Actually, I have something I wish to say.” She stood up sharply, everyone’s attention now firmly on her.

Her mother and father sat in their usual spots at the far end of the breakfast table, with Samuel at the other end alongside Frederick, while James and Sophia sat opposite each other in the center. If she was going to muster the nerve to make her announcement, it had to be now, before everyone dispersed for the day.

The entire world spun around her as the weight of her family’s legacy and their lives lay heavy on her shoulders, forcing her eyes closed.

“I visited His Grace last night. To unite our families and end the feud, I said I would marry him, and he agreed. All you need to do is accept this decision and announce it,” she said in a rush, her heart almost beating out of her chest.

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