Page 56 of A Bride for the Icy Duke
“Am I to punish him for the premature death of his wife?” she demanded. “That seems cruel, don’t you think?”
Any other time, Alexander would have agreed. And he knew nothing bad about Lord Scunthorpe; on the contrary, he believed the man to be a very good sort of fellow. But seeing Lydia talking and laughing with him had made him see red, and he couldn’t stop himself from saying, “You could have looked elsewhere for a husband.”
“In the end, I did,” she replied serenely. “But how could I have predicted that I would become a duchess? Even my father, who loved me dearly, could not have foreseen this future for me.”
Alexander should think not, but just the mention of her father made him remember what he had done.
How he had contributed to her father’s death.
The grief she had experienced because of it.
“I don’t want you talking with him more than necessary,” he pressed, gripping her waist a little tighter.
“For what reason?” she inquired.
“Because I said so.” Because she was infinitely more lovely than last year, and it wouldn’t do for him to grow attached now.
Even if Alexander didn’t believe he could stay, he didn’t want another man falling in love with his wife. Or worse, his wife falling in love with another man.
He could endure much, but he could not endure that.
“How charming,” she said dryly.
“More to the point, you are not currently available for marriage.”
“Notcurrently.” This time, she tilted her head back. “But I ought to make plans, you know, for if you cast me off.”
He stiffened, but although he knew she said that as she wanted him to reject the prospect, he couldn’t bring himself to. At least, not directly.
He would keep her, and she would continue as his wife, but he would not be in the picture to defend her.
“There is no need to flirt with other gentlemen,” he said through gritted teeth. “They have no claim over you.”
Her eyes glinted, and he knew she was disappointed with his answer, the lack of confirmation one way or the other. “You are overthinking,” she said. “I was not flirting.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
“I rather think you won’t if you thought my smiling was flirtatious. You cannot outlaw smiling, Alexander, not even to appease your jealous heart.” She laid a hand on his chest for the barest second. “So don’t get carried away.”
Hewantedto get carried away. To take her home and back to his bedchamber so he could get carried away all night!
Instead, he had to hold her in front of everyone, unable to appease the sudden need that rampaged through his body, with the cravings still sending aching cramps through his limbs.
Her smile faltered as she glanced up at him. “One day,” she whispered, “you will have to tell me what ails you.”
“Yes,” he muttered.
“Then I can help you.”
Then you will flee from me.
He didn’t say the words, but he thought them. And Lydia, oblivious to his internal certainty, found her smile once again, believing she could help him, believing he was worthy of being helped, believing there would be nothing to forgive.
He could tell her about the opium, the laudanum. But that was where he would draw the line. For both their sakes.
Even after, sometimes when he looked at her, he wondered if there could be a future. If she could love him, knowing everything.
A fool’s dream. And one he could not quite forget.
