Page 11 of The Duke's Impossible Deal
Tobias’s lips parted, and her eyes flicked to them before she could stop herself. The corner of his mouth quirked up, and her ears turned red.
“We shall see.”
Without another word, he swept out of the room. The smell of cedar and pine lingered long after the feel of his lips against her hands had faded.
Four
“Ithought I might find you out here.” Warner Scott, the Duke of Scarfield, said as he followed behind his cousin.
Tobias was walking up a hill that overlooked his local church. It was where generations of his family were buried. Where he would one day be laid to rest, beside his brother.
It had been two days since he had told Rowen that they were to be wed.
How could those grey eyes hold so much fire in them?
The scent of violets drifted across the air, making him frown. He shook his head as though to clear it and focused his attention on his cousin.
“Were you telling him of your news?” Warner gestured towards the church. “That you are to be married.”
Tobias nodded, but did not say anything. He kept walking, his cousin falling into step beside him as they reached the top of the hill.
“You really are getting married then?” Warner leaned against the old oak tree, studying him.
“You need not sound so surprised,” Tobias said drily, catching himself as his body made to stand at attention.
Will that habit ever leave me?
“I saw how well marriage suited you and decided I should give it a try.”
He knew that his voice sounded cold. A part of him wanted to change it, but the foggy numbness that draped his world made that nearly impossible. Unbidden, the memory of his exchange with Rowen flashed through his mind.
The numbness rippled like the surface of a pond disturbed by a stone. He clamped down on it hard, as he remembered the way he had enjoyed ruffling her feathers.
What a wonderful shade of scarlet she goes when she is furious.
Warner arched an eyebrow at him. “You know what I mean. Only a few months ago, you were telling me that you had sworn never to wed. That you intended to let the Rothwell line die with you. What has changed?”
“Nothing has changed. That is still very much my intention.” Tobias ran a hand through his hair, his eyes scanning the horizon, taking in the lands that lay around them.
“But—” Warner began, a crease forming on his brow.
“But nothing,” Tobias cut him off. “My marriage to Ro—Lady Rowen is born of necessity, not desire. I swore to her brother that I would look after her, should anything happen to him. I intend to keep all my vows.”
A cold smile spread across his face as he remembered his father’s haggard expression when he had visited him in the stocks. He recalled the last words he had ever spoken to the man, the vow he had made, and the way his murderer of a father had howled in rage and pain.
The cold wind drew him back to the present, and he ran a finger across the scar on his neck absentmindedly. “Our union is a matter of obligation, nothing more.”
“I know a little something about marrying for such a reason,” Warner murmured.
“I am not you. Besides, my fiancée has made it perfectly clear that she has no wish for such an arrangement.”
“You will never charm your way into my bed.”
Rowen’s words echoed in his head.
Not that I want to.
He remembered the way her eyes had flicked to his lips, the way her cheeks had flushed. He ran a thumb across his fingers, remembering how soft her skin had been against his. In another life, he would have delighted in the chase.
