Page 48 of The Duchess in His Bed
For now a keen sadness and sense of loss made her want to cry out. Never again would she see Aiden Trewlove, taste his kiss, grow warm from his smile, have her heart soar as his laughter circled her, be brought to her knees by his gentle caresses. Never again would she share confidences without fear of judgment.
Opening the door to her bedchamber, she welcomed the shadows emerging from the corners, the lone lamp on the bedside table burning too low to effectively hold them at bay. Then she noticed the toes of a pair of shining boots near the chair in the corner. Her brother, damn him. She was not in the mood to deal with him tonight. “Winslow—”
“You left me bound to the bloody bedposts!”
Her heart fairly jumped into her throat, her lungs froze. Not Winslow. Not Winslow at all. She watched in horror as a darker shadow slowly rose from the chair, tall and broad and menacing. When he stepped into the light, she knew she’d never seen such rage.
“You left me bound to the bloody bedposts!” he repeated, as though perhaps she hadn’t heard him the first time.
“Lower your voice. My sisters are down the hallway.” It wouldn’t do at all for them to discover this man in her bedchamber. She closed the door, locked it, leaned against it for support as though it could save her from his wrath.
“Do you think I give a bloody damn? You just left me there. With no explanation, with no way to free myself.”
His appearance had chased off her lethargy. Her heart was beating so rapidly, it had no doubt pounded the effects of the brandy into submission. “Yet, you managed it. I knew you were a man of resource.”
“Only because trouble downstairs required my assistance. How do you think it looked to my gaming boss to see me naked and trussed up like a Christmas goose?”
“How did you get in here?” she asked, unwilling to address his question, the mortification he must have felt.
“I’m a man who can pick locks, sweetheart. Do you really think you can find any place where you’ll be safe from me?” He took a long stride toward her. “Why, Lena, why were you crying? Why did you run off?”
It was so much harder to face him when he used her name rather than an endearment. So much more difficult when his first concern was her sobs and not her abandonment. Shaking her head, she felt the tears threatening once more.
“Why?” he asked again, but this time his voice reflected no hint of anger, only true concern.
Taking a deep breath, she met and held his gaze. “Because you take such precautions not to have children. And I need desperately to get with child.”
Her words bludgeoned him. He’d been correct from the beginning. All she desired of him was his cock. No, that wasn’t quite true. She wanted his seed.
She was a widow, a very recent widow. He’d never asked if she had children; she’d never spoken of them. He didn’t ask now, but merely stated fact, as her reasons crystallized. “You didn’t give your husband an heir.”
Slowly, she shook her head, finally unplastered herself from the door, walked to the sitting area, and lowered herself into a chair near the fireplace. Against his better judgment, he dropped into the one opposite hers. He preferred standing when fury had ahold of him, but his anger was abating. Damn her for that, for making him care about her troubles. “Surely the next in line will ensure you are provided for.”
“Lushing was the last. He had no surviving brothers or male cousins, distant or otherwise, to take his place. His titles will be declared extinct. His entailed properties will go to Her Majesty’s Treasury. I inherited a dower house, and he set up a trust. The interest will see me in good stead but it’s not enough.” She shook her head. “It’s not the money. It’s the prestige, the influence. My sisters have not yet had their Seasons. I want them to make good matches but without the dukedom”—she spread her arms—“I am naught. I have no power.”
“I suspect you have more than you think.”
With sadness etched over her features, she stared at her clasped hands.
“What of your brother? The responsibility of seeing to their welfare falls to him, surely.”
She lifted her gaze to his, her somberness tightening his heart, which irritated him. That he should allow her to affect him at all after what she’d done. He’d rubbed his wrists raw striving to get out of the bindings, had nearly wrenched his shoulder from its socket in his contortions to free himself. If not for his gaming manager knocking on his door and his yelling for the man to come in, Aiden might still be writhing about, feeling helpless and humiliated.
“The Earl of Camberley. Unfortunately, my father left the estate in shambles. It is not a particularly respected title. All my siblings are dependent on my position. And it is greatly diminished unless I become the mother of the next duke.”
“That was the reason you came to the club to be bedded.”
Her cheeks turning a soft pink hue, she nodded. “I thought if I could get with child within the month, before my next menses, I could pass it off as Lushing’s. It might arrive a tad late, but sometimes children do. Or perhaps I could find a way to make it come early. If I give birth to a son, all would remain as it was.”
“And if you bring a daughter into the world?”
“While the title will still go into extinction, the terms outlined in the entailment would allow her to inherit all Lushing’s assets and properties. Property is power. Lushing taught me that. She would grow up to become an independent woman of means. In addition, by showing I was not barren, my marriage prospects would increase and perhaps I could land another duke.”
He hated her plan, every aspect of it. Her willingness to do anything to get with child. “So if I hadn’t intercepted you that first night, you’d have gone with one of the gents with the red buttons.”
“No. It was always you I wanted.”
He was torn between feeling flattered and feeling the fool. “Why me?”
