Page 61 of His Arranged Duchess
There was none. He looked… Well, he lookedsad.
“I cannot call Cassianunclein public,” Frances whispered. “I made a mistake referring to them like that in front of you, but if I did it frequently, people would notice. Enough people would remember the connection between Cassian’s brother and Mama to begin to ask questions. And, of course, if this comes out, I’ll be irrevocably ruined.”
She sank back down onto the sofa. Lucien moved across the room, leaning against the mantelpiece and staring down into the empty fireplace.
“For my Season,” Frances continued, almost speaking to herself, “I was so terrified thatsomebodywould make a connection and discover who I was, I hardly dared say a word. I just sat in the corner and prayed to be passed over. And I suppose I got what I wanted. I ought to have told you, I know that. If you wish to annul the wedding, I understand.”
He glanced sharply at her. “Why would I wish that?”
She reddened. “I’m a bastard. Weren’t you listening? Besides, I am not even sure if the wedding would be legal, as I’m not the Baron’s real daughter.”
Lucien crossed the room in two strides and knelt down before her. He grabbed her hands in his, holding them tight.
“In the eyes of the Crown and theton, you are the Baron’s daughter,” he stated firmly. “And truly, it does not matter one bit.”
Her eyes widened. “Doesn’t matter? How can you say that?”
He gave a wry smile. “I can say that because frankly, Frances, I could not care lesswhosedaughter you are. You might have a dozen prospective fathers for all I care, each of them more low and shameful than the last. You are still a lady. But this is not the point.”
She blinked at him, beginning to feel dizzy.
He isn’t going to throw me off. He… He cares. He must care for me!
“What is the point?” she stammered.
He grinned, leaning closer to her until she could smell the sharp spiciness of his cologne.
“I told you before. You aremine, my dear little duchess. And that is all that matters.”
Frances let out a long, ragged sigh of relief. It was as though she’d been carrying a great weight on her shoulders for far too long, and that weight had quite suddenly been lifted away. She was free.
I’m safe. For now, at least.
Lucien regarded her thoughtfully for a long moment, as if reading her thoughts on her face. Then, he leaned forward impulsively and pressed a warm kiss to the center of her forehead.
Before Frances could react, he had released her hands and stood up abruptly. Crossing to the window, he stood there with his back turned.
“You… You really aren’t going to annul the marriage or disown me?” she stammered.
“Of course not. You are the Duchess of Blackstone, and that is not something which can be undone. You are who you are, and you can be proud of that. You’re quite safe, my dear. But there is another thing which worries me a little, and that is your previous betrothed.”
Frances shivered, her blood running cold. “Lord Easton.”
“Yes. This puts his crude little poem in a worse light.”
“Do… Do you think he might be threatening me?”
Lucien glanced briefly over his shoulder. “I cannot tell, but I do not trust him.”
“What should I do?”
“Do? Why, you should do nothing. I will take care of this.”
He strode back over to where she sat and placed a warm, large hand on her shoulder. Staring up at him in awe, Frances couldn’t help but remember how those firm, sure hands had felt sliding up the soft insides of her thighs. She shivered, pressing her legs together to try and make the pulsing of desire go away.
“Really?” she whispered.
He dropped her a wink. “Really. Leave it to me. Now, we should go into the next room. They have been remarkably quiet for a while. I do not suspect your family of eavesdropping, but if they think I am threatening an annulment or making you unhappy, I may well find myself at risk of being hanged from a nearby tree. Besides, it will be pleasant to meet your uncle and aunt under their own names, as part of your family.”
