Page 36 of A Bride for the Icy Duke
Ever since waking and finding her there, he had been unable to think of anything else. Even thecravingshad eased in the face of this new temptation.
During the worst of his guilt, he wasn’t sure which was worse.
“I, for one, am delighted to hear you won’t be leaving our neck of the woods today,” Miss Parsons was saying, giving Lydia a significant look. His wife blushed a little, the color sliding down her neck. He imagined trailing his fingertips down the same path, then looked abruptly away, only to find Godwin grinning at him.
“Dare I ask?” his friend said, leaning back in his chair.
Alexander scowled. “There is nothing to ask.”
“I don’t believe a word you say at the best of times, but now? I believe you even less.” He lowered his voice. “Does she not look delectable this morning?”
“Are you not an engaged man?”
“If it were real, of course, I would look at no lady other than her.” He glanced at Miss Parsons, his gaze seemingly caught in her dark curls and milky complexion. Alexander heaved an inward sigh. He knew Godwin enough to know when his friend was infatuated, and from what he could see, Miss Parsons had him around her little finger.
And, if he wasn’t mistaken, she was encouraging Lydia to do the same with him.
Lydia cast a glance under her eyelashes at him, and he stabbed a kipper, his headache throbbing behind his eyes. What was hethinking, having her here, considering letting her remain? As his wife?
Wantingher?
And yet…
“You know,” Godwin started quietly, unusually sympathetic, “shewouldn’t want you to pay homage by denying yourself.”
“Excuse me?”
“You know.” He held Alexander’s gaze. They hadn’t been friends during the time when Alexander had known Helena, but he had met Alexander in the aftermath. If it weren’t for Samuel Godwin, perpetual jokester, he might have done worse for himself than a mere laudanum addiction. “If she loved you even half as much as you loved her, she would have wanted you to find happiness.”
“Dukes are never born for such things. Their responsibilities are too great, and their expectations still greater.”
“I know many a duke prone to a little too much happiness,” Godwin whispered with a wink. And, when Alexander merely groaned, added, “You know I’m right.”
“And for that, I am supposed to accept her in Helena’s place?” he whispered back.
“No. Accept her for who sheis. A lady so beloved by her community must have her worth. You could do a lot worse for a wife, and let’s not forget your duty as a peer of the realm.”
Alexander stared at his teacup, wishing it contained something stronger. “Heirs?”
“Precisely.”
Lydia happened to glance up, and Alexander found himself recalling the way she had bent over the table for him, backside in the air, not seeming to notice the effect she was having on him.
Godwin was right enough: there were worse fates than having someone like her for a wife, and he did have to consider the possibility of heirs. For a long time, he had vowed never to continue his family name, in part out of spite for his father. But over the past few days, living in his family’s seat, he had come to understand the weight that rested on his shoulders.
If he did not have an heir, the land might be split up. The people depending on him would have to find new roles, new masters, new landowners who might not treat them with the respect their lives afforded.
If he abandoned them through his own weakness, what sort of man did that make him?
And yet, to continue the line, he would have to betray Helena’s memory?
Letting Lydia remain as his wife was one thing, but to sire heirs with her? To take her into his bed and make her his wife in all ways?
His body stirred once again at the thought, and he despised himself for it.
He needed more time to decide.
“Godwin,” he began, louder, turning to Samuel. “I entirely forgot about tomorrow’s dinner. In light of your recent engagement, might you bring Miss Parsons?”
