Page 24 of A Bride for the Icy Duke
“And you view me as the rogue about to divest you of said home, even though it was the agreement we came to when we married.”
Her bottom lip jutted out, though she said nothing.
“But as terrible as that makes me, I have no wish to make you unhappy, as far as it is in my power to prevent it.”
Those glass-green eyes, no brown to be seen, raised to meet his again. “Is that so?”
“I will not maintain this marriage for your sake,” he said. “And I’m afraid my reasons are not up for discussion or debate. But as I’ve said, I will gift you one of my houses to live in until the very end of your life—and if that life is past the end of mine, my heir will treat you just as I will have. I will give you a handsome jointure. You will want for nothing, Lydia.”
“I see.” Although he thought the terms were generous, she seemed unmoved. She tugged her hand from his. “Thank you, Your Grace. I should retire now.”
Finally. He’d been wishing for a moment alone all evening. And yet, as she walked to the door, he realized he didn’t want her to go quite like this. Why were women so difficult? And why had she gotten under his skin so quickly?
“Wait.” He rose from his chair, thankful that the situation in his trousers had fully resolved itself. “Is there anything I can do? To make your stay more comfortable until the weather ends?”
She spun, looking at him appraisingly, then glanced at the table, which they had both abandoned. “Well…” she began slowly, “there isonething.”
What had begun as a disaster of a dinner had turned into something else entirely. Lydia half wanted to laugh as she picked up a forkful of food and eyed him. To her surprise, when she had offered to make amends by helping him eat the remainder of his dinner, he had only protested a little, and had capitulated far more quickly than she could ever have imagined.
Now here she was. Feeding her husband. At a romantic dinner. In which she had also sat on his lap.
Admittedly, thathadbeen an accident. And it had been rather less sitting than falling. But once she had been in his arms, she could admit in the privacy of her own thoughts that it had been rather nice. A male body against hers. His thighs had been so hard and strong underneath her, and she had even thought she’d seensomethingin his eyes—a flare of heat, perhaps. Something that warmed his icy exterior.
Nothing to make herlikehim, of course. But it was entirely possible to separate the man from the physical experience of him holding her. And, for a brief moment, he had held her.
Close.
It had been an entirely pleasant experience.
The very same man eyed her and the fork that hovered before his lips. “I do have one functional hand, you know.”
“Consider it an apology.”
“A better apology would be doing me no more physical harm.”
She smiled sweetly. “I shall take that under consideration.”
He sighed heavily. But then, to her surprise and delight, when she nudged the fork against his lips, he opened his mouth. She had the privilege of watching his lips close around the metal of the fork, and although nothing about the gesture seemed even remotely seductive, it made her cheeks warm.
He frowned at her as though he could sense her every thought. “Is there a question?”
“Were you busy in London during our year apart?” she asked to distract him.
He shrugged. “As busy as any duke might be. There were a number of social and business obligations.”
“And they took up all your time?”
For the first time, he glanced away, refusing to meet her gaze. “A portion of it.”
“What else occupied you?”
“Does this matter to you?”
“Call it curiosity,” she shrugged a single shoulder as she cut the meat. He looked as though he would rather take his fork back, but she refused to let him. “I contrived to be busy here.”
“So I’ve heard,” he said wryly. “The servants seem to have taken a shine to you.”
“For a long time, they were my only companions.”
