Page 31 of In Compromise with the Earl
“Why?”
His innocuous question, as if he were truly puzzled, only showed Aphrodite how strong his blind conceit was to the truth of the matter. “Your Grace—”
“Jameson.”
“Your Grace,” she stressed. “I do not think you and I are good for each other. It’s best—”
“That you understand that we will be,” he cut in. “Walk with me? I know that the roses’ perfume is much more potent at dusk.”
“It nearly dinner time,” she said.
The Duke plucked out a timepiece from his jacket and looked. “We have twenty minutes to spare.”
“If you insist, let me call my maid,” she said unhappily. “And we must keep close to the Manor.”
He smirked. “Why, my dear, do you think I will be crass enough to ravish you?”
Putting the glass down, she glared. “You would not dare.”
Jameson’s expression was not comforting. “We’ll have to see, won’t we? I came here to make you mine and I will not be leaving without you.”
Chapter Eleven
From his place in the room, Oswald saw Duke Strathmore say a few words to Aphrodite and the pained expression on her face made his heart hurt.
“I am convinced that there is no common sense in this room,” Lady Fairchild sniped, while lifting her nose at the two. “How can a man of his station pant after her? A trollop in the making?”
Oswald felt a bitter taste rest in his mouth. “And you know that how? What has she done for such judgment?”
Blithely waving, Lady Fairchild said, “Is it not obvious? The blood in her veins will prove me right one day.”
Her sickening pride and conviction made Oswald grit his teeth. At the same time, he spotted the Duke lead a clearly unwilling Aphrodite out of the room and he felt resistance on her behalf bloom bright in his chest.
“If you will excuse me,” he tugged his jacket down. “I suddenly feel the need for fresh air.”
Instead of taking the same path the Duke and Aphrodite, he took the opposite, knowing that, if the two were out for a stroll in the nearby garden, they would end up in the same place. He did not like the look on the Duke’s face and the protector inside him wanted to make sure Aphrodite was not in danger.
The thin fog did not hinder the moonlight from rendering the whole garden as a scene torn from a dream. Silver moonbeams landed on the small rectangular courtyard surrounded by rosebush hedges. Unlit iron lanterns dangled from thin poles while the path drew attention to the gurgling stone fountain standing at the center.
Lingering in the shadows, Oswald both questioned his sanity at being there while he watched them. What did he think was going to happen—a ravaging?Hardly. She told me she despises the man.
The question remained—why was he there?
“I love this sort of night,” the Duke said. “Still and mystic. The perfect night for lovers, don’t you say?”
“I do not,” Aphrodite said. “And make no mistakes, we are not and will never be lovers.”
“Why so stubborn?” The Duke plucked a rose off a twig and handed it to her. “Let your hackles down for once and see what the connection could be between us. Can you tell me that you have not seen me in your dreams? The carefree blond prince of your fantasies?”
“On the contrary, I prefer dark-haired, brooding, and mostly silent men. One who pretends he needs no one and does not play games,” Aphrodite said lightly, but pointedly.
“I beg your pardon?” Duke Strathmore stopped, and the moonlight washing across his face told Oswald that he was not amused by Aphrodite’s clever insult. His mouth formed a line. “For the record, I am not ignorant, My Lady, I know you are referring to that cuckold Tennesley.”
An unbidden thrill ran through Oswald at those angered words, and he poised himself to step in, in case things might get out of hand.
“And so what?” Aphrodite said. “Am I not allowed to admire other gentlemen?”
“Yes, buthim?” Jameson spat. “He is a disgrace.”
