Page 11 of Wedded to the Beastly Duke
Through everything, he had endured. And so he would endure this harpy, even if she was both tauntingly beautiful and infuriatingly loud.
“Why do you not look at me?” she asked after a moment during which he stared out the window. They had left London now and were heading toward Surrey, just as she had predicted. At least they would not be trapped for very much longer. “Do you think me so very plain?”
In surprise, his gaze flashed to hers. From the very first moment he had seen her, he had noticed her beauty. Nothing that he could put his finger on, but something about her called to him. Her clear eyes, perhaps, the way they sparkled with challenge and defiance, or the flush in her cheeks when she opposed him. Or perhaps, as now, it was the perfect Cupid’s bow of her lips. Soft and lush.
How odd that she was not immediately aware of her charms. He glanced away. He could not afford temptation of this magnitude. When they arrived at his estate, he would expect her to carry out her marital duties and bear him heirs, but he had not married out of desire, and so he would not act out of it, either.
His primary concern was to get to the bottom of what had happened to his brother, and nothing and no one would distract him from that fact.
* * *
Emmeline pursed her lips as she stared at the silent, forbidding man in front of her. The way he had looked at her just now, the way his eyebrows had drawn together, and he had not answered her question about if he thought her plain, irked her in a way she had not expected.
Perhaps it was because he was so handsome in a way she could never compete with. He was scowling, sure, but if one could get past that, they would notice his blue eyes, his strong chin, the sensual slash of his mouth that seemed to her a promise of desire.
He was obnoxious and almost cruel in his treatment of her, but there was no doubting how handsome he was.
And now he had the gall to suggest she was not his equal, a fact that would not have stung so much if she had not known it to be true.
She was not the daughter of a duke, and she was not as beautiful as her sister—a fact she did not begrudge at all. In fact, it had almost come as a relief. One of them had always intended to stay home and look after the house, given their mother was at best a neglectful mistress, and Emmeline much rather sacrifice her future than watch Aurelia do it.
Of course, had a love match come along, she would have thrown herself into matrimony with the enthusiasm she gave anything she was passionate about, but it had not, and before the Duke, she had not been expecting one, either.
It made her role as an old maid easier. Old maids were not respected as married ladies were, but her mother neededsomeoneto care for her, especially seeing as their father was not the devoted husband her mother appeared to require.
At least, Emmeline thought grimly as she stared into her husband’s face, she was under no illusions in that regard. She had never expected the Duke to dote on her. His rudeness was unpleasant, but not wholly unexpected.
After all, it was not as though she was entitled to his good temper merely because she was his wife now.
By the time two weeks were up, he would be shipping her back to London just so he could be rid of her.
Fixing another overly bright smile on her face, she continued the barrage of conversation that seemed to irritate him so much. “Well, no matter if you do think me plain—you did not marry me for my looks, did you not?”
His jaw flexed, and she rejoiced inwardly at his irritation.
“Ifthathad been a concern, you would have married Aurelia.”
“And endure her histrionics? I think not.”
“You would be wise to watch your tongue when speaking about my sister.” Emmeline allowed her smile to slip and a little of her steel to ring in her words. “I will endure what I must, but I will not endure criticism of my family. Any young lady would be overwrought at the announcement that she was being sold to a man she barely knew.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You did not.”
“I volunteered for the duty. That is entirely different.”
Dismissing her comment, he turned back to the window and seemed content to pass the time in this fashion. Emmeline gritted her teeth.
“Will you not tell me more about your estate?” she asked. “Is it large? Or perhaps it is falling apart like an old ruin. That would be deeply romantic, I think.” She let out an exaggerated sigh. “Byron would adore it, I think. Do you like poetry?” At his continued and determined silence, she nodded. “I suspected not. You do not strike me as the poetic type.”
A muscle twitched in his jaw; she thought she saw a vein pulse in his neck.
Excellent.
“Although no doubt you brood excellently. I do think you make a good brooder. What would you say, My Lord Duke?”
“Mustyou prattle on with such nonsense?” he barked.
“Oh yes, Sir. How else would we get to know each other?” She batted her eyelashes at him. “You see here, I have a captive audience, if not a very participatory one. Would it hurt to answer my questions?”
