Page 7 of One Night of Surrender
“Yes.As you must be.”Like her, he’d been wed.The marriage had to have affected him, as hers had impacted her.“I was sorry to read in the newspaper that your wife had died.”
His jaw tightened, but only for a moment, and she wondered if she’d imagined the reaction.“We have both been unlucky in marriage, it seems.”
There was a moment of silence between them.Marriage was something they had never discussed.She’d never dreamed a duke could marry someone like her, and he’d certainly never offered.They’d stolen their one night together and knew it would have to last them forever.
She still couldn’t quite grasp that he was standing in front of her.That she could reach out and touch him.Or that there was a bed right behind him.
“You have togo.”She turned toward the door.
He moved to stand in front of it, putting his back against the wood.“And Iwill.This is just so…strange.And wonderful.Don’t you think so?”When she didn’t respond, he continued, “I never thought to see you again, and yet here you are.It feels like a gift.”
She blinked and tipped her head to the side, wondering what he meant exactly and not daring to presume.“Of what?”
He glanced up toward the low ceiling.“I don’t know… It’s just unexpected.”
It was past time to put an end to whatever he was trying to do.“I will only be here a fortnight.I will try to stay out of your way, and I expect you to do the same, just as I expect you to keep our past… secret.I can’t afford to lose this position.”Besides, she loved Beatrice and Caroline, and she would be devastated to leave them before they no longer needed her.Even then, it would be difficult.
“If you lose your position—which you won’t—I’ll take care of you.”
The air escaped her lungs in a whoosh, and she gaped at him, her arms dropping to her sides.“You aren’t propositioning—”
His eyes widened.“No,no.I wasn’t.I only meant that you needn’t ever worry about your future.I would ensure you are safe.”
“You can’t do that.That would be…scandalous!”Her father would spin in his grave.
“No one would need to know.”
She shook her head.“Absolutely not.I’m not a woman of loose morals.”But shehadbeen.Once.With him.“What happened between us was a mistake.”She looked away because she couldn’t bear to look at him as she told the lie she’d forced herself to believe.
“Don’t say that.”His voice was low and dark and raw.
“It’s the truth.Now, go.Please.”She looked at him then, her gaze pleading.“Your Grace.”
He pressed his lips together, his mouth tensing.Then he did the unthinkable.He lifted his hand and stroked her cheek.Her body wanted to lean forward and fall against him, to welcome his touch, to seek it.Steeling herself, she stood ramrod still as her insides threatened to loosen and fall apart.
“I still care for you, and Iwouldhelp you.All you need do is ask.”He dropped his hand, then turned and left.
As soon as the door was closed, she placed her palm against the wood.The heat of him was still there from where he’d pressed up against it.He would help her if she’d just ask… He could probably make her dream of starting a school for girls come true, but she wouldn’t ask.Shecouldn’t.
Closing her eyes, she put her hand on the door as if it were him and allowed all the feelings and memories she worked so hard to suppress.His hand with hers.His lips on hers.His body in hers.
A wild craving she hadn’t felt in some time washed over her.It was going to be a very long fortnight.
CHAPTER 3
The following evening, Val walked into the Wicked Duke, the tavern he owned with his good friend, the Duke of Colehaven, in the Haymarket.Heads turned and mugs clanked together with a rousing chorus of “Eastleigh!”Val performed a courtly bow, presenting his most elegant leg with a flourish.
Straightening, he made his way to the bar, which ran along the back wall of the primary salon.It was half ten, and the place was packed, so Val was stopped several times as he wove through the tables.When he arrived at the bar, Doyle already had his tankard—stamped with Eastleigh—filled with ale.
Val picked up the mug.“Is this Cole’s latest?”
“It is.He said you were keen to try it.”Doyle, the tavern’s manager, waited expectantly while Val sampled the ale.
Rich and slightly bitter, the brew was delicious.“He’s crafted another fine beer, not that I had any doubt.”
“Where’s Barkley tonight?”Doyle asked, likely because they’d arrived together the night before, and Val had told him Barkley was staying with him.
“He had other engagements this evening, but he’ll be in, I’m sure.”
