Page 62 of A Bride for the Forbidden Duke
“I decide when we are to leave and return home.”
“I agree to your condition,” she told him.
He paused, as if he was about to say—or do—something else, but he thought differently. The Duke wrenched himself away from the doorway, shaking his head.
Veronica did not wait for him to be seated before she turned and went down the hallway, content with knowing his eyes would lift to the doorway, expecting her there, only to find she had gone.
It was victory enough, knowing he would look for her, and she would not be there.
Chapter Eighteen
“Do you have any rules for tonight that I must obey?” Veronica asked, smiling tightly at the Duke.
She had no intentions of doing any such thing.
He spared her a brief glower as the carriage drew closer to Lindbury House. “Behave yourself.”
Veronica wanted to be brave enough to challenge him further, to askand what if I do not? For ever since she had taunted him in the doorway to his study, she had not stopped thinking of how she’d wished he would have taken her right there.
The Duke was igniting something in her that she could not keep denying, and she did not know how to fight it. But she would not be the one to ask or beg. She would hold her ground, keep her power in this way, and have him come to her.
But her mouth remembered the shape of his against hers and the taste of him when he swept his tongue over her lip, and every time she thought of it, she felt weak with desire and questioned how much longer she could resist asking him his thoughts.
“And how shall I behave myself?” she pushed.
He simmered. “Use your imagination.”
She leaned in, wanting a taste of playing him at his own game. “I would rather you used yours, husband.”
His fist clenched where he rested his hand on the bench. He turned away from her to look out the window.
“We are here,” he announced gruffly.
He looked dangerously, darkly handsome in his black shirt, decorated with a silver cravat, and a black waistcoat that had a neat, silver trim to match. His black pants accentuated his physique, and polished leather boots gave him the air of grace that Veronica found herself watching whenever he walked.
To match, she had donned a beautiful silver gown with a pale blue trim on the sleeves and neckline. The bodice clung to her chest, nestling just below her breasts, and a swirling floral pattern decorated it. The skirt flowed straight down, encasing her legs, before the skirt ended in rounded slippers of silver that caught the light.
The carriage door opened, and the Duke stepped out. The footman went to offer Veronica a hand down, but the Duke stepped in front, giving the footman a sharp look.
She bit back a smile and took his offered hand.
“So, youdowish for a proper pretense,” she noted as they walked up to the beautiful manor owned by the Lindburys.
“It is customary for me to assist you out of the carriage, is it not?”
“I do not recall you doing it on our wedding day,” she told him airily, but he ignored her.
The manor was awash with light, illuminated against the dark night, as they ascended the grand staircase leading to the front door which opened upon their arrival. In the foyer, bright and open, with light spilling from every crevice available, their hosts, the Earl and Countess of Lindbury, turned to them with smiles on their faces.
“Your Graces,” the Earl greeted.
“Lord Lindbury, Lady Lindbury, I would like to formally introduce you to the Duchess of Westley,” the Duke introduced them. The two hosts bowed and curtsied.
The Duke stood next to Veronica, gesturing at their hosts. “Duchess, this is my cousin, Lady Nancy Forbes, the Countessof Lindbury,” the Duke introduced her, and they curtsied to one another. “And the Earl of Lindbury, Lord Zachary Forbes.”
“It is wonderful to meet you, Your Grace,” Lord Lindbury said, smiling brightly at her. There was a mischievous glint in his eyes.
“And you, my lord,” Veronica answered, her excitement making her voice jump. She had yet to attend a formal event as a Duchess. “Your home is beautiful.”
