Page 16 of Bride of the Fae Duke

‘For the bloody divines’ sakes.’ He swept her off her feet before she realised what was happening – one arm beneath her knees,one beneath her shoulders, a mockery of a bridal carry for a mockery of a wedding day. ‘Eleanor Locke, when did you last do anything just because you enjoyed it?’

Eleanor Locke.

The sound of her new name was so strange, so unexpected, that the rest of the question took another two seconds to come through. He had planted her on the silk sheets of his canopied bed before she’d fully processed it –enjoyingthings?

What in the world did any of this have to do withenjoyment?

That was not how life worked. That hadneverbeen how life worked. Enjoyment didn’t keep little sisters alive and happy, after all. It didn’t pay the surgeon’s bills. It didn’t keep the house clean when one’s mother would no longer leave her bed. Enjoyment … enjoyment was for people who believed in love and magic and happy endings, for people who could afford not to see the darker side of life.

She washed other people’s linen until her hands were raw instead. She smiled even when she wanted to cry. She married dukes who might or might not end up killing her.

When had she last done anything else?

‘Yes,’ Locke said, lowering himself onto the edge of the bed beside her, and although she had not spoken a single thought out loud, she had the strange impression he’d heard them all the same. ‘I see.’

‘What?’ she bit out.

‘I’ve never quite regarded myself as a floor to be scrubbed.’ If not for his even tone and the stoic mask of his angular face, she may have thought it a joke. ‘But if that is how the matter stands, let me attempt another approach. See, there’s a book by the esteemed physician Lord Heartstrong – esteemed enough that the Princeps awarded him a name change for his research – on human reproduction. One of his many interesting findings is that the chances of conception appear to be higher whenbothpartners reach their climax, which means that, if you are as devoted to the success of the endeavour as you claim to be—’

Nellie squinted at him. ‘You’re making this up, aren’t you?’

‘Do I need to show you the source material?’ He nodded at his study, eyebrows raised. ‘I have the page marked, in case you were wondering.’

That did not look like a joke at all.

Mother Ostara have mercy. How thoroughly had he prepared for this marriage, exactly?

‘Oh,’ she said belatedly, because the silence was stretching on in mortifying ways and his eyes were glittering alarmingly in the candlelight. ‘I … I see.’

There was no joy in his smile. It did things to the structure of his features all the same, though – brought out the sharpness of his cheekbones, the breadth of his jaw, in ways that made her feel annoyingly and unnecessarily breathless.

‘Done arguing?’ he pleasantly enquired.

‘I think so?’ She swallowed. ‘For purely pragmatic reasons, that is.’

‘I wouldn’t dare accuse you of any other motives.’ His large hand hovered over her leg for a moment, then landed lightly on her shin, the strength of his fingers a strangely reassuring weight against her bare skin. ‘If we have that inconsequential matter cleared up, then, do you think we could get started with the work?’

Chapter 6

Thiswasnothinglikework anymore.

Nellie felt like a fumbling fool in that overly large bed, gaping at the man who called himself her husband, her bare skin pebbling no matter how mild the night. The plan had been so very clear a few minutes ago. He would take, she would give. As she’d been paid to do – as she’dalwaysbeen paid to do. And now—

Now she was supposed toenjoythings, and she did not have the faintest clue how in the world one went about that sort of thing.

‘Come here,’ Locke said, his voice gruff but not unfriendly as he lifted his hand from her leg and held it out to her. ‘Or if you prefer to come back tomorrow—’

To hell with that.

She might be clueless, but she was not acoward; if this was what he expected of her, she’d make it work somehow. Pressing herself up in the smooth silk blankets, she managed an almost-composed, ‘There’s no need for that, Your Grace.’

‘No,’ he admitted, hands wrapping around her waist. ‘I suspected as much, to tell you the truth.’

Drat. He wasn’tblind, the bastard – and somehow not that much of a bastard either as he pulled her easily into his lap, far more gently than the sight of him suggested he would. One arm wrapped around her, tucking her into his broad chest. The other brushed past the bare skin of her calf, there and gone again – as if he was still waiting for her to object, to push him away, to burst into tears and admit she should never have married him in the first place.

Nellie squeezed her eyes shut and steeled herself, unmoving.

‘No need to be tense, Eleanor,’ he murmured into her hair. ‘I’ll take care of you.’

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