Page 25 of The Duchess' Replacement

“Trust me, my love, if I were to use you at night, you would not be complaining.” His voice was like velvet and conjured scandalous images that caused her cheeks to heat.

“I doubt that.” Even she was unconvinced by her statement.

Charles smiled wickedly. “I guess we’ll just have to wait those eight days to find out, won’t we?”

Sarah swallowed the ball that formed in her throat. There were no words she could summon on the spot that would adequately put this man in his place. Instead, she raised her hand and aimed for his face.

Just before she made contact his hand whipped out and caught her wrist.

He swiftly pulled her towards him, causing her to lose her footing and stumble into his hard chest.

She inhaled a sharp breath as he pulled her so close they were standing nose to nose. His eyes were nearly black as they stared into hers.

“Are you looking for another punishment, wife?”

Sarah cursed at her body’s reaction to his brute force. Her mind was screaming at her to shove him away, to react, but her body wanted to see how far she could push him.

What pull did this man have over her that it had her questioning her sanity? She should be appalled not aroused.

He dropped her hand and allowed her to settle before he took a step back.

She stood there trying to catch her breath as he chuckled, turned, and walked out of the room.

Charles returned to his study and poured himself a whisky. He didn’t care it was still morning, every time he saw, heard, or thought of the woman who was know his wife, he needed a drink.

He’s been drinking a lot lately.

Charles was not known for subtly or generous ways. He is a formidable businessman who gets his way. He’s worked too hard to build up his family name and he has just become accustomed to people doing his bidding without question.

It’s how he ran his household, his duchy, everything he’s ever been in charge of.

However, one slight of a woman stumbles into his study late one night and now he is questioning everything he knows to be true.

Her words challenge him, more so, entice him, which was dangerous.

He knows of the family she came from. Prim, proper, the daughters were raised to be the quintessential wife in polite society.

Charles took a swig of his whisky, letting the burn drain into his throat.

She comes from the type of family that would turn their backs on people with stories like his.

That is exactly why she needs to remember their arrangement is one of convenience, nothing more, nothing less.

Charles heard voices from the garden. He stalked over to the window and peered out. He found Sarah talking with one of the gardeners. Micheal? Jimmy?

Charles grunted. Should he know his gardeners names? He shook his head. No. Their job is to maintain his land. His job is to make sure he has land for them to maintain. Their names don’t factor into that equation.

Still, he couldn’t help but be enthralled with how familiar Sarah seemed to be with the gardener. She only just met the lad within the last forty-eight hours and already she was laughing, seemingly enjoying his company.

A tingle tickled the back of Charles’s neck. He raised a hand to rub the tension that was settling at the base of his neck.

He took a larger pull of whiskey as her laugh once again drifted in through the open window. It was light and airy and full of joy.

Charles leaned into the window to try to hear.

What could they possibly be talking about that was so funny?

Old insecurities snuck up on him. Did the gardener tell a joke about him and his family? His blood began to sing with the familiar buzz of irritation. He thought he had quelled all the suspicions about his family. Perhaps he didn’t?

---