Page 18 of The Phantom Duke
“Did you send my driver away?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
For a heartbeat, he merely stared at her. Maria’s heart beat like a caged bird against her ribs. Had his thoughts gone the same direction as hers? He took a step toward her, and they were only a hairsbreadth away from being indecently close. His breath came in warm puffs of air against her face, and although her senses screamed for her to retreat, it was as though some strange enchantment held her in place.
“I wish to talk to you of my offer,” he said in his low, rumbling voice. “I will not do that standing in the yard of a poorhouse.”
“It is not a poorhouse!” Maria snapped, angry at the belittling of a place that was so important to her.
If her temper offended him, the duke did not show it. “My carriage is beyond the gates. It would not be wise for you to walk these streets alone again so close to where you were assaulted.”
He turned without waiting for a reply and walked away. The spell that warmed her blood broke at once, and she flushed with embarrassment for the inappropriate direction of her thoughts. Maria stood for a moment, collecting herself, and then limped after him.
He is the rudest, most infuriating man I have ever met! But… If not for what I know of him, I could almost believe he’s worried for me.
A black carriage pulled by two restive coal black horses awaited. The door was open. Maria hesitated at the step, but he reached out and seized her arm. His grip was firm, but not unkind, andher breath hitched at the sudden, unexpected touch. She was hauled bodily into the carriage without any apparent effort from the duke and deposited on a seat.
He was startlingly strong. Warmth rushed to her face, as she settled onto the seat across from him. Dozens of objections swam in her mind. She was a lady. Even if they were to be married, they were not yet husband and wife. This behavior was not respectable.
But another part of Maria, a part which she did not wish to acknowledge, found a peculiar delight in the scandalous position of being alone with this strong and mysterious man. It was as if she was the heroine of some novel embarking on some salacious and exciting adventure.
“Thank you for the help and for saving me the breath needed to ask,” Maria said wryly.
A low, almost inaudible chuckle escaped the duke.It had an almost supernatural effect on Maria. She bit back her words instinctively. She felt pinned in her seat by his shadowed eyes, feeling them upon her as though he was caressing her naked body. Maria shivered and resisted the impulse to wrap her arms around herself.
“Your situation is dire. The scandal will be growing, like a wave out at sea. Unless you’re shielded, it will sweep you away. I can shield you.”
“Do you seek to pressure me, Your Grace?” Maria asked, breathlessly.
If he did wish to pressure her, she ought to be vexed. A respectable lady would be; however, she found the idea instead alluring.
“I seek to focus your mind on reality. I could be a considerable benefactor to your precious orphanage.”
His voice was deep but rough-edged, as though he had never learned or had forgotten the niceties of human speech. Or else that he knew of them and did not care. Maria could see how marriage would seem to soften the edges in the public eye. Make him seem more conventional. More palatable. But how badly did he need it? What terms was he willing to accept in return for her hand?
“I will not be bullied. I will always defend those who cannot speak for themselves,” she replied defiantly.
“Words,” the duke said, quietly, leaning forward.
His face was inches from hers, but she refused to sit back, refused to shy away. He snatched the hat from his head, revealing the mask in full. Maria felt the urge to look beneath it, wanting to see his face in its entirety. One half was beautiful in the same way that Michelangelo’s David was beautiful. Hard and aloof but still beautiful. His lips were terribly tempting.
“Allow me to think on it a while longer,” Maria said.
She needed to think, but she also needed to judge how much he needed to marry. Maria needed him to be desperate enough to agree to her terms, and perhaps, waiting would help her achieve her aims.
The duke stared at her, and she stared back.
Does he think I will shrink away from his mask? Does he think to terrify me with the threat of removing it?
“I am ready to be your savior,” he said at last. “But I will not wait long.”
“I hate to be the bearer of such news, my friend, but this dratted scandal sheet is worrying me,” Simon lunged with his rapier, seeing an opening in his opponent’s defense.
It was a mistake, the opening closed, and he found himself desperately defending against a counterattack. Damien’s rapier whipped and stabbed, seeming to be in more than one place at once.
“I do not care for the opinions of scandal sheets,” Damien said without any apparent exertion.
