Page 14 of Bride of the Fae Duke

‘Yes, and I’d prefer to be out again as soon as possible,’ she flung back with a snort – realising only a moment later that shewassnorting, at aduke.Sweet divines, what had gotten into her? But the man before her hardly seemed to notice, and either way, what was he going to do about it? ‘So if it’s not too much to ask, I would very much like to get started. If you didn’t have any other plans tonight, of course.’

‘My plans,’ he tartly said, groaning as he hauled himself off the couch and straightened to his full towering length, ‘were to get mind-numbingly drunk and forget for a few hours that I’m officially a married man again. So I don’t have any pressing obligations, no.’

Oh.

Oh dear.

Seven-time husband. Six-time widower. Only now, seeing that look on his face, did the cold facts truly punch through to her: six women, six deaths, and if the curse was real, he must have loved every single one of them.

At once, her firm determination felt painfully, shamefully misplaced.

‘I see,’ she said, suddenly feeble again. ‘Of course. If … if you prefer for me to leave, I’ll—’

‘Don’t bother.’ He all but snapped the words, as if her sympathy was an even greater offense than her unthinking lack of it before. His angular, almost-human face had gone expressionless again, although his loose long hair and comfortable white shirt rather spoiled his effort to look entirely unruffled. ‘It was not my wellbeing I was concerned about. We can get started whenever you wish.’

That was a victory … wasn’t it?

So why did her nervousness choosethismoment, of all the moments it could have chosen, to claw its hooks back into her guts?

She swallowed, unwilling to back down but equally unable to follow the duke as he made for the connecting door betweenhis bookshelves and swung it open with an almost theatrical flourish. Through the open doorway, she caught a glimpse of a candlelit room and a broad, canopied bed.

Abed.

As glad as she should be that he wasn’t planning to deflower her on his couch, the sight of those tightly made blankets had the last drops of courage evaporating from her limbs.

‘There you go,’ he flatly said as he turned back to her, rolling up his shirtsleeves like a man preparing for a deeply unpleasant task. ‘After you, Eleanor.’

Which meant she had to step forward.

And again and again, all the way to those stiff, unwelcoming pillows … And then she’d have to take off her dress, or let him do it. Lie down or let him fold her into whatever position he preferred. Which was all fine, of course. This was a job; it did not need to be pleasant. She’d suffered far worse than a little pain, and …

‘I’m a virgin,’ she blurted before she could help herself.

Locke didn’t even blink. ‘That seemed a possibility to me, yes.’

‘Oh.’ A blush stormed her cheeks. Why was she suddenly blushingnow, if far worse had left her lips already? ‘That … that is good. I didn’t want to cause any unpleasant surprises. I suppose I’ll just lie down then, and—’

‘You’ll do no such thing,’ he sharply cut in, holding out a tanned hand to her. Only now, with his sleeve rolled up, did she see the line of silvery blue, scale-like marks that ran over the inside of his forearms, embedded in his wiry muscles like a second skin – more signs of his fae heritage, presumably. ‘I may be a cold-hearted bastard, but I’m not a brute. Come here.’

This time she was the one to gape at him.

‘Unless,’ he added, and she had to be delusional because she imagined just the slightest fraction of bitter amusement in thetwist of his lips, ‘you’d rather leave me to my boozing after all. In that case, you are more than welcome to go.’

That helped.

‘No, thank you,’ she managed, kicking herself forward in a burst of extraordinary courage – nerves or no, retreating would be too much of a defeat to bear. Every step brought her closer to that bed. Closer to him. ‘I … I was just surprised for a moment.’

‘I fully understand,’ he said in his low voice, his palm settling in the small of her back as she passed. The warm touch guided her into his bedroom as he shut the door behind them with his free hand. ‘I’d take me for a brute, too, if I were you. Let me help you with that dress.’

Wait.

What?

Had that been … ajoke?

She stood stiff as a broomstick as he untangled her lacings with seasoned ease. Her mind spun. After the way he’d proposed to her, after the way he’d vanished all day and left her to the care of his steward and housekeeper, thelastshe had expected from this man was any consideration … and yet how else was she to take these remarks, this encouragement, or even his decision not to summon her at all tonight?

Of all the things she hadn’t expected, accidentally having married a decent man was probably the first.

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