Page 17 of Lusting for the Duke's Kiss
When the laughter finally died down, he hesitantly reached out, pulling something from her hair.
“A twig,” he whispered.
She tried to breathe, but strangely found she couldn’t.
“Your hair is beautiful,” he said, his eyes darkening. “It looks like silk, streaming behind you …”
She still couldn’t breathe. She felt as if she was drowning, within his eyes, losing herself, in some strange, bewitching way. But then, her lungs suddenly contracted, and she took a deep, sudden breath.
“We should go,” she whispered. “Back to the house. Mama will be wondering …”
“Of course,” he said quickly.
She called Della, who was skulking around the trunk of the apple tree, sniffing something, and they set off, back down the field. They didn’t say a word to each other, but somehow, she felt different. As if something had passed between them that she could not even name.
She felt his eyes on her from time to time but refused to look at him. She was coming back to earth now. Those sweet moments were gone. In them, she had forgotten entirely who she was and what had happened to her. She had forgotten that she was an abandoned wife and the misery of her life.
But it all rushed back to her, now. As did the knowledge that she did not know this man at all, nor his motivations, for suddenly asking her to marry him.
She could not afford to let her guard down. Those sweet moments were an illusion, a passing amnesia. He was a stranger to her, and she was on a path that did not include him at all. She must remember that. She could not afford ever to forget it.
Chapter 8
Hetty gazed out the window of the drawing room. He had said that he would be returning today. She did not want to admit to herself that she was waiting for him.
Sighing restlessly, she dropped the curtain, walking to the pianoforte. She would practise. That would take up some time. With grim determination, she raised her fingers, striking the keys. For a few moments, she played a tune, before sighing again, stopping.
She did not feel like playing the pianoforte. She did not knowwhatshe wanted to do at all.
It had been six weeks since the Duke of Warwick had landed so alarmingly on the doorstep of Hillsworth House, claiming that he wanted to marry her, come hell or highwater. In that time, he had assisted her father to start the divorce proceedings. He had travelled to London, on her behalf, to file the necessary documents. Now, it was just a waiting game, to see if and when the Ecclesiastical court would schedule a hearing.
The Duke came back and forth, staying for days at a time, before heading back to his manor, in Hampshire. He never told her why he had to leave. But he would start to get a little quiet and withdrawn, staring off into space. The next moment, he would announce that he had pressing business, at home, and take off, flying down the country lane outside Hillsworth House on his horse, sending pebbles flying into the air. She would watch him from the drawing room window. Itlooked like the hounds of hell were pursuing him.
He was hiding something. She was almost certain of it. How else to explain the abrupt mood changes, the urgency of his departures?
He was always charming, and fully committed, when he returned to Hillsworth House. Almost as if he had slaked an itch. Her mind, of course, turned to dark reasons. Did he have a mistress that he was seeing? Or several of them? Her father insisted that the Duke was an important man, with business to attend to, that was why he left so abruptly. But even though Hetty knew that was a perfectly plausible reason, she still could not help thinking there was more to it than that. There was something that he was not telling her.
In the meantime, she was still poring over the letters from the convents. Two more had arrived, and she had sent another enquiry to one in Dorset. But she was almost certain that she had arrived at a decision.
The Sisters of the Holy Cross were an old order, located in Shropshire. They had an abbey, just outside the town of Shrewsbury. Their mission was to educate the children of the local farming population. They even had a small schoolhouse. If she joined them, she would be surrounded by children. She had never contemplated teaching before, but it would be a noble pursuit, wouldn’t it?
Her hand itched to write to them, tell them that she desired to join them, but she knew that it wasn’t time, yet. First, she must see what was going to happen with the divorce. She was committed to it nowand could not back away from it. Frank must be held accountable for what he had done. Once she knew what was happening with it, then she could make her plans.
In the meantime, she had to endure the attentions of the Duke, pretending that she was seriously contemplating marrying him if the divorce came through. For she had finally understood that with him behind her, the court would be more likely to schedule a hearing, than if her family did it alone. He was a peer of the realm, after all, whereas they were only gentry. Privilege opened a lot of doors in this world.
She was still no closer to understanding why he was insisting on marrying her and going to so much trouble on her behalf. But it hardly mattered. It wasn’t as if she ever intended to go through with it, after all, even if itwassuccessful, which she very much doubted.
Suddenly, she jumped. She could hear horse’s hooves thundering down the lane towards the house. Was it him?
She rushed to the window. Yes, she could see him on his black stallion, just turning through the gates into the estate. Her heart flipped over in her chest, and to her dismay, she could see that her hand was trembling where it gripped the lace curtain.
She took a deep breath, trying to stop the involuntary physical reaction. She loathed it that her body seemed to have a mind of its own, where he was concerned. She didn’t want to feel this way, when she saw him or was near him. And yet, it persisted, growing evenworse, the longer she spent in his company.
He was at the front of the house, now. She watched him dismount, taking off his hat and running a hand through his dark hair. Suddenly, he looked at the window, where she was standing. Their eyes met.
He smiled tentatively. Hastily, she dropped the curtain, stepping away. Her heart was thumping in her chest.
She had to stop doing this. No more rushing to the window when he arrived or waiting at it to see if he was coming. Shemustget herself under control.
