Page 95 of The English Duke
He knew her in a way he didn’t understand but had to accept at this moment.
Reason left him.
He wanted her in his bed, her body bowing beneath his, her screams of joy silenced by his lips on hers. His hand speared into her hair, feeling the softness of the curls winding around his fingers. This, too, was something familiar to him.
Slowly he pulled back, his body screaming at him to continue this seduction.
Her lips were pink. Her eyes were dazed, the feathery lashes revealing them reluctantly. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, just above her perfect nose. He tried to calm his breathing, all the while lecturing himself to step back, away.
“How charming. One would think, looking at the two of you, that you were the ones to be married.”
He dropped his hand, turned, and faced Josephine standing a few feet away. He hadn’t heard her approach, but then he hadn’t been paying attention to anything but Martha.
Words failed him. Not one excuse came to mind to explain his behavior. Not only did he owe Josephine an apology, a fact that irritated him, but he should also say something to Martha.
Before he could speak, Martha picked up her skirts and moved around him, brushing past Josephine without a word.
Chapter 28
Martha had successfully avoided her sister in the past weeks, but there was no chance of escaping Josephine now. There was going to be a confrontation. Martha just didn’t want it to take place in public.
Josephine followed her all the way back to the house.
She made it to her room, but she didn’t even get a chance to close the door. Josephine grabbed it, slammed it shut, and rounded on her.
“How dare you! He’s going to be my husband. Mine!”
Given that nothing occurred to her as an acceptable answer, Martha remained silent. Josephine was right. She shouldn’t have kissed Jordan. It didn’t seem fair, however, that her sister now had a reason to be justifiably angry when Josephine had been underhanded and devious from the beginning.
She took a few steps back, erring on the side of caution. Josephine looked angry enough to strike her. Her cheeks were florid, her mouth twisted. Her eyes were narrowed and filled with rage.
“Why were you kissing him?”
Because she lost her mind around Jordan. She lost all thought of who she was, the circumstances, the day, the witnesses, everything. On the dock all she’d been feeling was an exhilarating joy.
It felt right and proper that he was there to celebrate with her. The kiss was just a natural extension of her mood.
How, though, did she explain that to Josephine?
Could she say that the moment felt special and worthy of a grand gesture? Or that she was moved to tears by being able to replicate their father’s success?
“It just happened,” she said, walking to the window.
The view was of the lake, but from here she couldn’t see the dock. She would never tell Josephine it would remain a special place for her, the location where she realized what she felt for the Duke of Roth was more than friendship.
She loved him. An emotion she’d never thought to have, a feeling now forbidden.
First, she’d been curious about Jordan. Then, a little envious of her father’s praise of him. Later, as she’d read his letters, she began to admire his mind. Finally, she got a sense of the man himself not only from the words he wrote but those things he carefully left unsaid. By the time she arrived at Sedgebrook she was already interested in him. Sparring with him, challenging him, being near him had somehow pushed her the rest of the way.
None of which she’d confess to Josephine.
I love him. I love him.The words ached to be said. She’d never utter them. Not to Josephine. Never to Jordan.
“I was just excited I made theGoldfishwork,” she said. She glanced over her shoulder at Josephine. “You’ll be glad to know I found what Father had discovered.”
Josephine’s lips twisted. “I don’t care about those ships, Martha. I want you to leave Jordan alone. He’s mine.”
“Why pretend you feel something for him?” Martha asked, turning. “We both know you don’t. The only allure Jordan has for you is the fact he’s the Duke of Roth and he owns Sedgebrook. If he were still a naval officer, you wouldn’t notice him. Oh, you might glance at him long enough to ridicule him, but you certainly wouldn’t contemplate marriage.”
