Page 14 of A Cursed Bride for the Duke
“Shall we, Duchess?” Wilhelm’s gentle yet firm voice broke through her deep rumination.
He took her hand, his touch warm in the cool air. His eyes held a trace of something akin to affection or encouragement.
With a small but reassuring smile, he guided her to the waiting carriage.
Chapter Five
“Why me?” Genevieve immediately asked after settling into the burgundy velvet seat.
Her question lingered in the air and filled the carriage with a tense silence. Her searching gaze came to rest on Wilhelm’s shadowed profile as he stared blankly out the window, lost in his thoughts.
The carriage was a luxurious cocoon of plush velvet and polished wood that swayed gently along the cobbled streets. The rhythmic clip-clop of hooves and the muffled hum of the city faded into the background and made room for exploring the litany of possibilities that raced through Genevieve’s mind.
Wilhelm shifted in his seat, his movement causing the carriage to sway slightly, and cleared his throat.
He then turned to face her, his green eyes glinting in the dim light. “A question that has undoubtedly plagued many brides,”he remarked. His voice was a low rumble that reverberated through the confined space.
Genevieve’s lips curled into a dry smile. “Indeed,” she conceded, her voice infused with a playful challenge. “But I suspect my circumstances are somewhat unique, would you not agree?”
“Unique?” Wilhelm arched an eyebrow, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. “In what way, pray tell?”
Genevieve leaned forward, her gaze unwavering. “I am, if you recall, acursedwidow.” She emphasized the word with a touch of irony. “A woman whose reputation precedes her like a plague. Hardly the most desirable of matches.”
Wilhelm’s lips twitched, a subtle smile playing at the corners. “I assure you, Duchess, that I do not believe in such superstitious nonsense,” he replied, his voice smooth and reassuring. “As for your reputation…” He paused, his gaze slowly sweeping over her. “I find it quite intriguing.”
Genevieve’s heart thudded, keenly feeling the heat of his stare on her skin. She inhaled through her nose, once again detecting the warmth of sandalwood and a hint of smoky cedar. The space between them became charged with a current of attraction that caused her body to quiver and her heart to pound in her chest.
His piercing, unyielding eyes lingered on her and pulled her into their light like a beacon she was powerless to resist. Her fingers twitched, and she gripped the velvet cushion in a futile effort to look away and break the spell he had cast on her.
“Intriguing?” she echoed, despising that her voice had cracked like a pubescent boy’s.
Wilhelm nodded slowly. “Indeed. You are… something else entirely, if I may say so.”
Genevieve placed a hand on the back of her neck and drew in a deep breath. “What did you expect?” she asked, her blue eyes sparkling impishly.
Wilhelm’s smile widened, a hint of mischief now apparent in his eyes. “That, my dear Duchess, is a secret I shall keep to myself… for now.”
Genevieve’s lips curled into a playful pout. “How intriguing,” she drawled, mimicking his earlier tone. “It seems I am married to a man of mystery.”
Wilhelm chuckled, a low rumble that reverberated through the carriage. “Indeed,” he agreed, his gaze holding hers. “But I assure you, the mystery is only half the allure.”
Genevieve’s heart stumbled and skipped a beat as a flush spread rapidly from her chest to her cheeks, her skin reddening noticeably despite the carriage’s duskiness.
The velvety carriage seat had rapidly become uncomfortably warm as it pressed against her thighs and groin. She shifted restlessly and tried not to draw the Duke’s attention to hermounting discomfort, but despite her best efforts, the fire bounded unchecked through her loins.
“I suppose I shall have to unravel your secrets, then,” she returned smoothly.
Wilhelm’s smile widened. A spark of intrigue lit up his eyes as she tilted her head and smiled back at him beguilingly.
“I welcome the challenge, Duchess,” he replied, his voice a lion’s low rumble, each word lingering between them like a promise.
She could not help but wonder what secrets he harbored and what desires simmered beneath his cool, controlled exterior.
“Tell me, Your Grace,” she began. “Why a widow? Of all the eligible ladies of the Ton, why choose a woman with a… complicated past?”
Wilhelm’s gaze softened, and the rigid lines of his face momentarily relaxed. A fleeting spark of unguarded memories crossed his face, but he quickly shifted in his seat.
“I have my reasons,” he said, his voice quieter and gentler. “Ones which I shall reveal to you in due course.”
