Page 36 of Duke of Pride

What are you doing?

Stephen pulled himself into a more gentlemanly stance, his limbs tucked away from hers. How easy it was to discard all rules when she was so close, her perfume wafting in the air, her voice so deliciously passionate.

“I am devoted to the task, since it will bring to fruition my desire to see you gone from my house.”

“Great.”

“Now, pray tell, what kind of man would you accept, My Lady? Surely, there is someone out there who can bear your sharp tongue and sharper wit.”

She was not amused. She looked out the window thoughtfully. Stephen noticed that this woman had layers upon layers, and he found himself eager to peel them. He gritted his teeth as he awaited her answer.

“Your Grace, are you familiar with the legend of Lady Ragnell?”

“From Camelot?” He faintly remembered it.

“A foul-looking woman who offered King Arthur the answer to a riddle that would save his life. What is it that women most desire?” she said, meeting his eyes. “The answer was simple—to rule our lives as we see fit.”

Stephen said nothing. The carriage clattered over the cobblestones.

“I don’t need a man to save me. I want a man who would let me be exactly who I am. Who wouldn’t justbearmy mind, my ambition, and my temper, but love me because of them. A man who wouldn’t try to shape me into something more palatable, more proper, more… small.”

A beat passed. Stephen was no longer smirking. His gaze lingered on her, unreadable now.

For a long moment, he stared, the hum of carriage wheels the only sound between them. Then, he shifted subtly, as if resisting the urge to reach for her, or perhaps to steady himself. But he didn’t touch her. And he didn’t look away either.

* * *

Stephen pretended to run his—rather quick—meeting with his solicitor and then escorted her to her chores, much to her dismay. When she was done, he checked his watch.

“It will take us some time to reach Colborne House,” he noted. “We should have lunch while in London.”

“Together?” She seemed shocked.

“I am sure we will manage to eat some pie without it being too unpleasant.”

“I admire your confidence.”

They had just stepped off the curb into a busy crossing, and Victoria was ready to go the other side. Stephen’s head snapped to the right. A carriage turned the corner too fast, too recklessly, and she hadn’t even noticed.

“Victoria!”

He lunged forward and yanked her back with such force that she was crushed to his chest, the world spinning around them. The carriage thundered past, mere inches from where she just stood.

Victoria didn’t breathe. Neither did he. Her fists clung to the lapels of his coat, her face buried in his chest. His arms had wrapped around her without thought, tight and possessive, one hand splayed on the small of her back. He could feel the wild thrum of her heart.

Or is it mine?

She looked up, and though she was safe from danger, he couldn’t let go. He searched her body and face for any sign of pain or injury.

“Are you hurt?”

He examined her face with urgency, but she only looked up at him with a perplexed expression.

“Answer me, Victoria,” he pressed. “Are you hurt?”

He was still shaking from fear of something happening to her. If that carriage hit her…

Victoria was stunned, her big eyes holding his. Her breath came in shallow bursts, and it wasn’t just the fear of nearly being run over. Stephen was reluctant to release her, though the danger had passed.

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