Page 13 of Married to a Scandalous Spinster
The Duke sighed, leaning back against the chaise and looking up at the chandelier. “Earlier today, I overheard Miss Henford speaking to her friend, Miss Gardiner.”
Gemma nodded tentatively, slightly wary of where this conversation was headed. And why on earth was the Duke of Larsen confessing such things to her? They were not even friends.
“My mother chose Miss Henford as my wife because she believes her to be well-spoken and obedient. But I fear today I caught a glimpse of her true nature. I overheard her and Miss Gardiner speaking. Miss Henford spoke extremely harshly about my family. Spoke of ridding Larsen Manor of my mother and grandmother once we are married.”
“Goodness. How dreadful.” Gemma was surprised by a stab of sympathy for the Duke. Not that she could claim to be surprised by Miss Henford's behavior. She had had little to do with the Duke's betrothed beyond curt greetings and icy glares, but they had been more than enough to give Gemma a glimpse of who Henrietta Henford was.
She opened her mouth to speak, then changed her mind. It most certainly was not her place to say anything on the matter, especially not after the scene she had caused last night.
But the Duke said, “What? You have something to say.”
Gemma shook her head. “No, I?—”
“Come on now,” he said, an edge of challenge in his voice. “From what little I recall of last night, you are not usually one to hold back your opinion.”
At the mention of last night, Gemma's cheeks turned scarlet. But she said, “Very well. Since you asked, I was going to tell you that it is not too late to change your mind. You are a duke. No one can force you to marry Miss Henford if you truly do not wish to.”
The Duke shook his head. “I know. But I could not do that to her family,” he said. But there was a faraway look in his eyes, and Gemma could tell he was turning the prospect over in his mind.
“The rest of your life is at stake,” Gemma reminded him. “Is it not worth ensuring you are marrying a lady who will make you happy?”
“A lady who will make me happy?” A smile quirked on the Duke's lips. “That is rather a romantic notion, is it not? I am surprised to hear it come from someone like you. I had not imagined you the type to fantasize about a marriage of love.”
“Who said anything about love? I merely said you ought to find a wife who will make you happy. Someone who pleases you. Makes you think.” His eyes caught hers for a moment, and she could read the surprise in them. “Not,” she said quickly, “that I am offering to take her place. If that was what you were thinking. I would never…”
The Duke chuckled. “I believe you protest a little too hard, Lady Gemma.”
Gemma snorted, quickly gathering her composure. “Please. I would not marry you if you were the last man left on earth.”
The Duke merely laughed again and got to his feet, taking a step toward her. The seriousness that had fallen over him as he had spoken about Miss Henford seemed to evaporate. “I must say,” he began, his blue eyes alight, “you seem to have come to such a conclusion rather hastily. After all, you and I barely know each other. If you forget what happened this morning, of course.”
Gemma almost laughed.There is no way I willeverforget what happened this morning.
She forced herself to hold his gaze. “I know you well enough, Your Grace. I know your type. You are arrogant, with little concern for anything except where you will find your next woman.”
The Duke shrugged. “Harsh. But probably fair. Although I do have a number of good qualities too, you know.” He was close to her now, so close she could feel his warm breath tickle her nose. Close enough she could see the dark blue flecks in his eyes. Half of her wanted to step away. The other half wanted to step closer. She did neither, her feet keeping her rooted in place and her legs so weak she feared they might give way.
“Good qualities,” she repeated, forcing a harshness into her tone. “And what exactly might those be?”
Before she could make sense of what was happening, the Duke's lips found hers. Stunned, Gemma's first instinct was to back away, but he dug his hands into her hair, keeping her pinned to him. At once, the instinct to flee dissolved, replaced by something far more primal.
Gemma's body began to react as if it had a mind of its own. She felt her mouth open beneath his, felt her tongue tangling with his own, felt her fingers gripping his upper arms as though they might save her from drowning.
Without breaking the kiss, the Duke slid his hand down over her shoulders, finding the small of her back and tugging her closer. So close she could feel the firm plane of his chest pressing against her breasts.
The feel of him made her suddenly breathless. She felt her knees quake and felt heat blooming between her legs, the warmth that had ignited this morning in her bed suddenly bursting into flame.
The Duke's hand slid around to her front, finding the curve of her breast and squeezing it through her corset. Gemma hearda soft moan escape her, hardly able to believe such a wanton, unrestrained noise had come from her own mouth.
At the back of her mind, her rational brain was screaming.Stop this! At once!But the pleasure that was building inside her was far too great to resist.
The Duke's broad hand slid down over her ribs and down to the top of her thighs. Gemma heard herself gasp and could feel dampness gathering beneath her legs. She dug her hands into the Duke's hair, craving more of him. Tried to angle her body against his so he might touch her where she needed it the most.
“Please,” she whispered against his lips. “Please.”
With his mouth still locked against hers, the Duke's hand slid between their bodies, moving over Gemma's gray skirts. His fingers skimmed over the silky material, and for a fleeting second, grazed the heat between her legs. She heard herself cry out, and he swallowed the sound between his lips.
He pulled away suddenly, leaving Gemma breathless. She caught herself suddenly before she could voice her protests.
