Page 119 of Corrupting his Duchess
“You regret it?” he asked, not demanding. Just honest.
“No,” she said quickly, “Not at all. I only….” She paused, eyes darting upward again. “I’ve never done anything quite so… irrevocable.”
Henry nodded once. “Neither have I.”
That made her look at him.
He stepped just a little closer.
“There is no part of me that hasn’t thought about last night. About you, in that room, looking at me like I was something worth choosing. You were warm and open and– God, Anna– there was something in your eyes I don’t think I’ve ever been given. Not like that.”
His voice dropped. “It wasn’t just passion. It was something else. Something that settled in me. I’m not used to being... known. But you– you saw me. And you didn’t look away.”
She blinked, startled.
He reached for her hand again, this time lifting it gently to his lips. He didn’t kiss it like a duke making a show of courtesy. He pressed his mouth there like a vow.
“I asked for your hand in front of your family,” he said quietly. “But I wanted to ask you again here. Alone. After last night.”
Her fingers trembled faintly in his. She looked at him for a long moment.
Then slowly, she stepped into him.
It wasn’t dramatic. There were no gasps or sobs. She simply leaned her forehead against his chest, her body soft, her heart steady.
“I’m glad it was you,” she said.
His arms came around her, one hand resting at her back, the other brushing the edge of her shoulder. He breathed her in. She still smelled faintly of lavender water and winter air.
“I would marry you in a church or a field,” he murmured. “With witnesses or none at all. So long as it was you.”
She made a quiet, broken sound that might’ve been a laugh or a sob.
Then a knock sounded gently at the far end of the corridor.
The maid appeared, discreet and composed.
“Lord Stenton is waiting for you in the study, Your Grace.”
Henry didn’t move for a second.
Then he exhaled slowly, kissed her forehead, and said, “Wait for me.”
She nodded, and he left.
The door to the study creaked open as Henry stepped inside.
Isaac was already seated behind the desk, legs casually crossed and a glass of port in hand. Papers were spread before him in neat, theatrical disarray.
“Your Grace,” he said, rising a bit too quickly.
In his haste, his knee caught the corner of the desk. A few of the neatly arranged papers fluttered to the floor.
He glanced down, then waved a hand as if it didn’t matter, pasting on a smile. “I thought you might prefer to handle the particulars without the ladies present.”
Henry didn’t offer a smile. “I appreciate your time.”
There was a flicker, something in Isaac’s expression but it was gone too quickly. He gestured smoothly to the chair across from him, voice resuming its usual glibness. “Please. Sit. I’ve taken the liberty of outlining a few terms for the settlement. Of course, we’ll want to keep it simple. Anna’s dowry is modest, but what she lacks in coin she makes up in, shall we say… polish.”
