Page 57 of Rules for Heiresses
“Perhaps he sees it as a way to spare you.”
She scowled. “Spare me from what?”
“From being hurt.”
“By hurting me in the first place?”
Sarani took Ravenna’s hands and squeezed, her face full of empathy and understanding. “Trust me, if what you’re telling me is true about his past, he doesn’t see it that way. I don’t know him, but my guess is that he’s trying to protect you, albeit in a misguided way, from being married to him. He’s offering you the out before you reject him of your own accord.”
“But I won’t reject him.” She stared out at the rolling sea, remembering the moments of unguarded emotion on theGlory. “I like who I am when I’m with him.”
“I’m sure you do, dearest, but he doesn’t believe that.”
What Sarani was saying made a strange sort of sense. Her husband was pushing her away because he didn’t feel worthy of her. But she wasn’t the problem. Courtland would never feel worthy of anyone unless he felt worthy of himself. How could she make him see what she saw when she looked at him? A man of such accomplishment and honor. A man who people loved and men admired. A man any woman would be proud to call husband.Especiallyher.
“How do I fix this?” Ravenna asked.
Her sister-in-law smiled. “By being the warrior I know you are. By fighting for what’s yours.”
“He doesn’t want to be mine.” She was aware she sounded peevish, but the doubts had crept in and wouldn’t leave.
For an elegant princess-turned-duchess, Sarani’s grin was decidedly wicked. “Since when has that ever stopped you from going after what you want? The only person you control is you, Ravenna. If you choose to let him go, that is your decision. But if you don’t, you should move heaven and earth to make it happen.”
“What if I fail?”
“You won’t,” her sister by marriage said firmly. “But you won’t know that until you try.”
Sixteen
Courtland dragged his fingers through his hair, standing at the window in his study and staring mindlessly out to the moonlit gardens beyond.Hell!The bloody chit was going to drive him into an early grave. Notwithstanding his constant interest in his wife’s whereabouts, which had not diminished as he’d expected it would after their coupling, he was a mess. He’d fucked women out of his system before, but apparently she was there to stay, lodged beneath his skin like a prickly burr because he couldn’t stop thinking about her.Fantasizingabout her.
Those long legs hitched over his hips.
Her gorgeous face in the throes of orgasm.
That beautiful body that fit his like a silk-lined glove.
Cursing his weakness, Courtland adjusted the instant swelling in his trousers. Every second sodding thought was of her. When he tried to do estate accounts, he was plagued with memories of her hands all over him at this very desk. A brisk walk in the small gardens was curtailed by erotic thoughts of what transpired in the conservatory. If he went for a ride in Hyde Park, all he could think of washerputting him through his paces…and riding him to grueling satisfaction.
It had been barely a fortnight, but the days had become interminable, even with his attempts to stay busy with the estate finances, investment meetings, and sessions in the House of Lords. He took his dinners at his club. Yet, whenever he set foot in the house, he pined for a glimpse of her. Yearned to hear the husky rasp of her voice. Longed for the musical notes of her laughter.
He’d become a besotted fool!
And then, his willful wife had left him without a word. If it wasn’t for Rawley, who he’d put on her tail, he wouldn’t have known that she was planning to visit Embry’s duchess in Hastings or that the foolhardy chit would attempt to travel by public transport on her own. Arranging for one of his private railcars was the least of what he wanted to do…besides dragging her home and locking her in her chamber for being so reckless. Thieves and flashmen were rife in that part of town.
But Courtland knew that attempting to cage her would only lead to chaos. His duchess was a free spirit who wasn’t meant to be confined. As such, he’d ordered Rawley to shadow her along with two men for protection whenever she left the residence. Courtland had many enemies, including one he was keeping close to his side in Sommers. Not to mention Stinson, who seemed to be nearing the end of his rapidly fraying rope. Ravenna was not safe, especially with those around who would have no compunction about hurting his new duchess to get to him.
Apart from a short telegram detailing her safe arrival at Hastings, there’d been no other communication from his cousin. It’d been a night and nearly two days. He didn’t doubt Rawley’s skill, but he also knew what his wife was capable of. And if she discovered she was being followed, who knew what the impetuous, contrary-minded hoyden would do?
A knock on the door made him swing around.
“The Earl of Waterstone, Your Grace,” his butler announced and then paused, clearing his throat. “As well as His Grace, the Duke of Embry, and Mr. Rawley.”
Rawley.Was his wife back, then? Ignoring the two large peers crowding the study, he met his man’s eyes and was rewarded with a small nod. Relief flooded Courtland’s bones in an instant, the heavy tension over his shoulders finally lifting.
“Ashvale,” the earl said. “How’s ducal life?”
“Oh, for God’s sake,Valentine, it’s Courtland. And you’ll know soon enough when your uncle dies.”
