Page 17 of The Duke and the Hellion Bride

Diana was shaking so uncontrollably now she worried the floor might begin to shake with her. It had been simple enough this past week to pretend as she had been that this marriage was nothing more than procedure and there was no need to worry about what was expected of her. As the duke had made it seem, a business contract of sorts.

Today the reality had struck her. How real it all was. And the duke being here now, confirming as such, only worked to undo her further.

She tried to look at him but could not do it. She tried to act aloof, as if this was all a simple transaction for her, but it was hopeless. She did not know what she wanted from this marriage, nor what she expected, but she knew deep down that a marriage in which she treated her husband more like a business associate than a husband could not work. And surely, he did not think it could?

“I never intended to marry,” the duke began. She could feel his eyes on her and that made her shake further, unable to look at him directly. “My brother’s death changed that. Responsibility, is to what I speak, something I am sure you have fair experience with.”

“I -- I do,” she stammered.

“But I did not choose you simply because it was easy or convenient,” he continued, his voice hardening. “My grandmother told me of what you spoke, and she is right in more ways that she probably realized. I considered for a long while before I came to see you last week. It was not a decision I made brashly, and I wish for you to know this. This marriage...” He clicked his tongue as if nervous himself. “It is not a love match. It is not expected to become one – I am not asking you to fall over yourself in obsession for me,” he chuckled.

“I will do my best,” she tried for a joke, still struggling to look at him. She didn’t understand what he was saying, and somehow it only made things worse. As if he was confirming what she had suspected all along.

“But that does not mean it needs to be difficult,” he continued. “Nor do we need to be strangers in the home that we will share. We will be man and wife, Miss Goldsmith. And I expect...” He shook his head. “I expect that we will at the very least be able to enjoy the pleasure of one another’s company.”

That had her starting and she snapped her head up to look at him.

The pleasure of one another’s company. Does that mean...

Diana felt her entire body flush pink with embarrassment. Her mind went to what Evelyn had been saying the other day and now she could not stop herself from thinking of the obvious. As man and wife, certain things were expected of her... things of which she had no experience but apparently the duke had plenty. Is that why he came here? To tell her in a very roundabout way that she was to perform her marital duties still?

Despite herself, Diana’s eyes flicked down the duke’s body. His wide shoulders. His thick chest. Further still, she found herself lingering on his waist… his thighs… her eyed widening as she remembered the other thing that Evelyn told her. Suddenly, she found her lips salivating…

“I... I... I...” she stammered uncontrollably, caught in two minds, one hand reaching out slowly as if she meant to grab him. But then she realized what she was doing and pulled it back.

A part of her she wished to tell him that he could not have it both ways. That stubborn desire to stand up for herself pushing that thought to the fore, as it was wont to do. On the other hand, she met the duke’s dark eyes, she flicked her own to his thick lips, she felt his power in how he stood over her, the command that emanated from him. And dammit, she suddenly forgot what it is she was so upset about in the first place.

He seemed to notice her shaking, the look in her eyes, and the tiniest smirk rose over his lips. “Is something the matter?”

“Yo -- you wish to – to – I do not quite under – understand --”

“Miss Goldsmith, you are shaking.” The duke took her hands in his and the effect was immediate. It sent a pulse through her hands, up her arms, and across her body which somehow calmed her nerves as if she was melting. It was a warmth that spread through her, a sensation that made it feel as if she might suddenly explode. Only, in a good way. Within half a second the nervous shakes had stopped, replaced by a tingle which she could feel ripple across every inch of her skin. “Are you cold?”

She did not speak at first, still concentrated on the feel of his hands. He squeezed them, her knees buckled, and she stepped in closer, wishing to feel the warmth of his breath against her skin.

“Miss Goldsmith…?”

“N –no,” she said. “I am...” She took a deep breath and forced her mind back to the moment, meeting his eyes as her body continued to glow. “I am feeling perfectly well, thank you.”

“Good. I would hate for you to be sick on our wedding day.”

She held his eyes, wondering if he felt the same sensation that she did right now. She squeezed his hands just a little, delighting in the way he squeezed them back. It was but a moment, but it passed between them like lightning striking a tree and setting it alight. Surely, he must have felt it too?

“So...” He cleared his throat, still holding her by the hands. Another beat passed, his eyes moving down her body, focusing now on her chest as he licked his lips and he mind went to places she did not need to guess. “You understand what I am saying?”

“I think I do...” She held his eyes, held his hands, continued to tingle throughout her entire body. Hot flushes from her face down to her loins and she wondered if he could feel the heat radiating from her.

“Good,” he said with a smile. “I am looking forward to this marriage. Despite the queer circumstances.”

“As am I.” And she realized right then that she meant it.

“Wonderful.” He released her hands, and she nearly cried out as if he was tearing away a limb. “I should be going, then. But I will see you shortly, yes?”

“I look forward to it.”

He smiled at that, and it made her heart race. “As am I.” A short bow, then he turned and strode from the room.

The room felt significantly emptier once the duke had left. Colder, somehow. Smaller. Diana’s heart was still racing. Her body was still warm. But she was no longer shaking as she had been. She was no longer nervous.

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