Page 39 of The Duke Says I Do
“Doesn’t everyone?”
“I had no idea you’d paid such attention to me.”
His short laugh was rueful. “Devil take it, neither had I. I’m gladder by the minute that I didn’t marry Juliet.”
Horrified, she stopped to stare at him. “Dear Lord, what if I developed a passion for you when you were my brother-in-law? It hardly bears thinking about.”
He met her eyes. “Have you developed a passion for me?”
Her cheeks heated again. “I…I suppose I must. I wouldn’t have kissed you otherwise. For pity’s sake, how did this happen?”
Alaric concentrated so hard on her that her nerves spiked, even as her stomach churned with perilous longing. Fear and yearning tore her apart, as she wrestled with what she should do and what she wanted to do.
“By God, you have no idea how much I want to kiss you right now.” His voice was low and savage. It made her very bones ache with hunger.
She sucked in an unsteady breath and struggled to recall that they were in a public space, her groom was within calling distance, and the mist supplied inadequate cover for an embrace. “You can’t.”
“I know,” he said in a flat tone. “But that doesn’t stop me wanting.”
Or her, heaven forgive her. “We should…we should keep walking, or Rankin will catch up.”
“Jupiter,” Alaric said. The dog had taken advantage of his master’s distraction to sniff around the base of the yew hedge lining the path. As he trotted ahead, Alaric returned his attention to her. “Why don’t you want to marry?”
“Isn’t it obvious? A husband would keep me from my rescue work.”
“Did you explain that to any of your suitors?”
“Of course not. But I know how the world works. A man wants a wife at his beck and call. He doesn’t want her running around who knows where, taking in mistreated animals. He wants achatelaine for his house, a smiling, gracious hostess, a mother for his children.”
“Don’t you find any of that appealing?”
Oh, dear, she thought that she’d long ago come to terms with life as a lone crusader. She had until, plague take him, Alaric decided to show her what she missed out on. But the reasons for refusing her other suitors counted double with Alaric. A duke with political ambitions needed a hostess and a helpmeet. He needed a suitable duchess. That was never going to be Portia Frain.
He must feel the same, because he suggested an affair, not marriage. Just as when he spoke, the topic was desire, not love.
“You can’t have everything.” She hated the wistfulness weighting her answer.
“You’re giving up a lot for your animals.”
Portia squared her shoulders and told herself not to be such a wet hen. “My animals have no other advocate, whereas society is full of pretty, biddable chits who would – and do – make perfect wives for conventional gentlemen.”
“Perhaps you underestimate the gentlemen. If a man really loved you, he’d want you to be happy. It’s clear that helping animals makes you happy.”
She wished with all her heart that was true about the Duke of Granville. How easily he spoke of love. It hurt to hear the word on his lips and know that he’d never love her.
“Perhaps,” she said, knowing no such tolerant gentleman existed. “But it’s a risk I can’t take. Single, I have more freedom than most women. I have a fortune of my own, so I needn’t wed for security. I’m in a unique position to make a difference.”
He remained silent. And the silence bristled.
“Have I appalled you?” she asked eventually.
“No,” he said. “It makes sense.”
“But you don’t approve?”
“It’s not for me to approve or disapprove.” He frowned. “But it’s a lonely life you’re talking about. I know you’ll have dogs and cats and horses. But it might be nice having some human love in there as well. Someone to cuddle who isn’t covered with fur.”
“I have my sisters.” Portia wished that she didn’t sound defensive. She didn’t need to justify herself to Alaric. He had no power over her decisions, except the power that she granted him. Although she had a sinking feeling that in loving him, she granted him more power over her than any man had ever wielded. “I’ll be aunt to their children.”
