Page 27 of A Bride for the Rakish Duke

He shook his head, pressing on. “You cannot get the thought of the bedchamber out of your head, can you? I suppose it is my fault for putting it in your head in the first place. But do you really think I am leaving just to lie with other women?”

“What else am I to think, considering your reputation?” she barked.

That stopped him, but it did not stop her. She collided with his chest, and his arm slipped around her instinctively, his hand sliding into the silky, strawberry-blonde hair at the back of her neck.

With a wry smile, he tugged gently on her hair, tilting her head up to look at him.

“Oh, my Duchess, my kitten,” he whispered, licking his lips, “think on this instead—that I am leaving simply because I cannot keep my hands offyoufor a whole month.”

She panted, her bosom heaving against his chest. “That, husband, is the challenge.”

“Maybe so,” he murmured, burning with the need to kiss her, “but I will not have you make an oath-breaker out of me.”

He let go of her and walked away, frustration coursing through his veins with no hope of satisfying that vehement desire. This time, she did not follow, and he did not dare to look back to find out why.

CHAPTER 11

“So, that is it,” Lydia found herself repeating as she watched her husband leave her. For a month. A whole month.

There was a plan in place, you dolt.

She shook her head and turned to wander the rest of the way around the manor, scrambling for an alternative.

In the week prior to her wedding, she had thoroughly researched the details of annulments and had settled on three possible plans: pretending to be insane to get him to void the marriage, getting him to admit that he had coerced her into the union, or being so infuriating toward him that she would eventually convince him to ask for an annulment, allowing him to choose on what grounds—duress, fraud, or whatever he preferred.

Unless…

Possibility flared in her heart once more, for surely his actions could be deemed as abandonment. And abandonment could be framed as fraud if she was clever about it—promises made, promises broken.

She paused at a wooden bench and sat down, gazing up at the grim stone of the manor. The windows winked in the morning light, and peering up, she wondered which bedchamber was hers.

As she did, her mind took her back to her bed and the press of Will’s body against hers, the crush of his lips, and that strong hand caressing her thigh. She closed her eyes, letting her imagination and her expansive knowledge of illicit novels fill in the gaps of what might have happened if she had not come to her senses in time. It was a warm morning, but the images exploding in her head made it feel like the height of a summer afternoon.

But even that was a fraud of sorts, she told herself. A coercion. A means of tricking her by saying one thing and doing another. If his objective was to confuse her and tease her just enough to ensure she did not run, then he was succeeding.

Not for long.

She opened her eyes and shook off the heat of her imagination. She would use her lonely month well, and by the time he deigned to return, there would be nothing to claim, for she would not be there.

“William!” a voice shouted from across the stable yard as William rode out.

His attention snapped toward the figure, for he had been waiting for Lydia to try and prevent him from leaving, but this was not Lydia. He had no intention ofnotdeparting, but he regretted not kissing her one last time and making it a good one, so she would look forward to his eventual return. And, most importantly, not run off in the meantime.

William smiled at his brother. “Come to wave me off?”

“No, I have come to catch you before you make a terrible mistake,” Anthony replied, wearing a frown more serious than it had any right to be. “I did not intervene at breakfast because I assumed you were just up to your usual tricks, but Jenny Hen tells me youareleaving, and for a month at that!”

William shrugged. “I have my reasons.”

“And do you think the scandal sheets will look kindly on those reasons?” Anthony shook his head. “I know I am your younger brother, but get down at once. Come inside and cease your foolishness. I doubt that eventhe Beastwould abandon his wife during the honeymoon. And her family are still here! They have powerful connections, William—they will destroy you if they think you have cast Lydia aside.”

Clenching his jaw, William fixed his gaze on Anthony’s hand, now wrapped around the bridle of the horse. “I have no time for a honeymoon, Anthony,” he said sharply. “This marriage has been the solution to our first barrage of problems, and with a portion of her dowry, I can invest in some business endeavors to make this estate thrive again. There are important men in London at present, and I shall not miss rebuilding our fortune because I am supposed to spend four weeks ‘getting to know’ my wife. I have years to do that.”

Anthony relaxed his hold on the bridle, his brow furrowing in a more confused fashion. “If you are headed to London for business, why did you not say so to your wife?”

“Who is to say that I did not?” William replied, though he already knew the answer.

In any household, even a loyal one, there were always eavesdroppers and gossipers.

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