Page 17 of Her Beastly Duke
“At least there is one silver lining from this entire episode.”
“And what might that be?”
“You lost your mask in the river and did not notice you were not wearing it.”
Julius had felt the mask slip from his face, but he was so intent on saving her that he did not seek to retrieve it. Miss Walcot made him feel that wearing it when he was with her was unnecessary. She did not find his scars ugly and accepted him as he was. It was rather refreshing.
Julius grunted, but he did not reply.
“I would like you to stop wearing the mask at home.”
“You what?”
“You heard me the first time, Your Grace. I insist you go without it whenever we are together.”
Julius chuckled. The gall. Only she would have the impudence to insist that he do anything. The audacity. To chuckle was the only thing that he could do, to break the moment, to break the tension and forget how she breathed on his neck. He was a duke. He should not need to remind himself that he wanted to be alone only days ago and was not thinking about kissing her full, plump lips. Whatever this connection was that he was feeling for Miss Walcot, should he not sever it?
“Very well.” He heard himself reply. There it was. He agreed to it.
He quickly glanced down and caught her sunny smile.What the hell was she doing to him?
“Thank you.”
“What for?”
“For rescuing me and bringing me quickly to the house.”
“It was my pleasure.”
Otis held the door open, and Julius stepped through. He deposited Miss Walcot on the floor as Polly, a lady’s maid, rushed forward to assist her.
“I will see you at dinner this evening, Miss Walcot,” Julius said before he ascended the stairs to his bedchamber.
She was like a breath of fresh air. Her skill and clever maneuvers in fencing, for one. Then she fell into the river, and he had to jump in after her. It had been a long time since he felt needed by a woman. It felt good coming to her rescue and protecting her. He wielded power and influence. He gained a measure of satisfaction from being heir to the estate, and he managed it well, increasing the family’s holdings. He had not thought much about being a protector, however small the task, because he had not been in a position to come to anyone’s rescue lately. When she thanked him, it made him feel valued, which truly warmed him. He hummed a tune as he walked down the hallway, nursing a feeling of gratification and accomplishment.
She had only just come into his life and was already changing it. After all, he agreed not to wear his mask. How remarkable. Miss Walcot made him feel hopeful. Hopeful for exactly what? What were his expectations, and what did his heart desire? These were questions he had not considered for a while. Now, they reared in his head, and they were worth considering. Living under the same roof with this spirited woman would be interesting indeed. His conversations with her were somehowfree and easy. She was bold, intelligent, and beautiful enough to tempt a good man. He considered himself to be one, and it was not his intent to ravish her. He would not risk her reputation, so he had no business thinking about her kissable lips.
Briar hadthe strangest feeling when the duke set her down. She had watched the curve of his neck, jawline, and lips to her leisure as she lay there in his arms. The moment he moved away, she yearned for him to take her in his arms again, to feel his muscular energy and warmth. She had not been cold when the gentle breeze washed over her, but now, she was freezing. The maid must have seen her shiver.
“I am Polly, my lady. I will assist you,” Polly said as she led Briar up the stairs.
The staff had placed her in the same bedroom as before, and she was pleased with the familiar surroundings. A large tub of steaming water awaited her in the far corner, and Polly patiently undressed her. Her wet garments fell into a pile on the floor before she walked over to the tub and submerged herself. Hot water had never felt so good.Bliss.
Polly seemed to sense that Briar wanted to languish, so she busied herself arranging gowns in the armoire. Her spectacular splash in the river could have been the dark cloud that ruined an otherwise lovely morning, but she would not let it. Briar felt not an ounce of indignity for the duke rescuing her twice. Briar slid further down in the tub and closed her eyes. She quite enjoyed the stroll with the duke. She recalled his amazing eyes gazing deeply into hers. Lost in the depths of his gaze, her chest tightened, and she looked away from his steady regard. When her gaze returned to him, he was staring at her lips, and herbreath lodged in her throat. Briar knew that the duke wanted to kiss her. She was afraid he would see the longing in her gaze, a longing she hardly understood.
She must pull herself together and not lose perspective. She was not at Berkley Estate to become fascinated with the duke. She had a task to complete and her family was relying on her. That should be her focus. Further, her mother cautioned her to protect her virtue, and she was threading a very thin line. Once her task was completed, she would return to Walcot Hall. Despite her mother’s encouragement to gain the duke’s favor, as far as Briar was concerned, she did not need to marry. When Duncan received the payment from the duke, he could settle the family’s debts and be well placed to find an heiress. If he secured such a marriage, it would make all the difference to their circumstance. She never wanted her family to ever be in this position again. Briar hated the vulnerability, and it was fortunate they were indebted to the duke and not someone odious.
Briar had a dim view of marriage. It was not only the thought of intimacy that frightened her. She had overheard the cooks in the kitchen gossiping about a poor girl whose husband beat her. The poor thing. Apparently, it was quite commonplace for husbands to beat their wives. Briar could not imagine such a thing. She had never been beaten, and her father never beat her mother. How could she surrender her independence and be at a gentleman’s mercy?
Briar was not one to sell herself short. She deserved happiness, which was synonymous with being at her childhood home with her family. Her faith in men was shaken by Lord Fredrick's treatment of her and the wife beating she heard whispers of. Even if her husband did not beat her, she would be expected to be obedient to him. A wife was not encouraged to have her own interests or hobbies. It was consideredinappropriate for a wife to challenge her husband's authority or to be too independent. She was fiercely independent and would hold on to that with all her being.
Briar paused and took a deep breath. Dropping her head into her hands, she contemplated the sheer foolishness of her actions at the river. After all, it was her fault that she fell in. When they set off in the boat, she could never have imagined that she would end up in the duke’s arms again. Since this was not the first time, she would do well to ensure it does not happen again. The duke’s spur-of-the-moment reasoning had been that it would be better to carry her to the house. He was concerned she would become ill and likely had not thought of the servant’s gossiping about her disheveled state.
How could she have known he would rob her of her breath and make her heart beat faster? No other man had ignited these feelings inside her and she wondered what it meant. She was ever so conscious that he looked at her lips. Lord Fredrick had looked at her lips several times before he attempted to kiss her. Briar deduced that the duke wanted to kiss her, too. Inexplicably, she was not repulsed at the idea of the duke stealing a kiss.
Goodness gracious!
She was perplexed by it. Having always behaved with such decorum, why had these thoughts entered her head? She could not understand it. What she did know was that she could not allow herself to unravel.
