Page 39 of The Duke's Rebellious Love
“I would dishonour him by pretending or entering a marriage with such a falsehood. So, you are right.” She seemed remarkably sanguine about the whole affair, and her calmness was starting to annoy Woolwich. Why could she not just say yes? He had gone down on one knee, acting honourably towards her, so why was Clara still viewing him with so much uncertainty and distrustful disdain? “I will break my engagement with Mr. Goudge. It would not be fair to wed him now. I see that, of course. It would not be within my nature to lie in such a manner or commit that kind of falsehood.” With such a statement uttered, she started to walk towards the door.
“Wait.” Woolwich strode after her, his longer legs catching up with her in no time and pulling her back against him. He wrapped his arms around her, hauling Clara close against his frame. The unspoken rejection of hers was more painful than he had expected. He bent his head close to hers, and Clara closed her eyes to avoid his gaze. With her so close, so still within his arms, he realised how desirable she was, how she continued to be, and how he suspected Clara always would be. Woolwich kissed her, breaking away only to whisper, “You haven’t answered my question.” It was said in a teasing manner, and he hoped she would respond in kind, and she would see the sweetness he was offering and embrace it.
Her hands bunched on his lapels, keeping him rooted to her. “You only offered for my hand because you have ruined me.” She repeated his words, yet there was no warmth or happiness to them. “And only because of the risk there may be a child.”
“I–I–”
“I know many women would be pleased, no, even delighted, to be offered by someone as lofty as Your Grace. But I had hoped for more. From you.” She lowered her eyes to settle on his cravat. “I am, of course, flattered, Your Grace, for the honour of being asked.”
“I don’t want your flattery,” Woolwich said. “This is not a game, some childish risk you can play.”
Colour sparked in her face, and she fixed him with a furious glare, any shyness disappearing because she was vexed. “I am not being a fool or playing with you. It is not unusual for me to wish for more when I see my sister so happily married. Or my friends. They have husbands who adore them, who did not propose to them because of a simple obligation. Or fear.”
Woolwich opened his mouth, keen to defend himself, but Clara was too quick. “You make this offer because you must. That is not a good enough reason for me to tie myself to another for the rest of our lives.”
Choosing to ignore her perceptive dig about his motivations, he tried to remind Clara of the need for their marriage. “I am hardly repellent unless you were pretending when we–”
“I did not call you as such,” Clara said. “Let go of me.”
Immediately, Woolwich released her, and she turned on her heel, forcing him to follow in her wake. “You must see the logic of marrying me.”
Clara finally stopped. She had reached the edge of the conservatory, her fingers on the door handle. She let out a sigh, a mixture of frustration and sadness. “I do not understand how we could share something so beautiful together that we moved beyond words, and yet we cannot find the right phrasing here and now when needed.”
“If it is poetry and a perfect way of saying…” His mind was whirling, unable to focus on precisely what she wanted him to say. Then again, his conscious whispered,you know what she wants. Clara wants to hear a declaration of your feelings, not of a societal demand.
“No,” Clara cut him off. “If it happens that I am with child, I will tell you and agree to marry you, provided you are still willing.”
“And if you are not?”
She pushed the door handle down, swinging the door open as she prepared to step out into the garden. “Then you may consider yourself free from me and remain the bachelor you have always said you wished to stay.”
With that, she left him. Woolwich watched her move through the gardens, grateful to see her re-enter the townhouse through the servants’ door, avoiding the larger, grander entranceway and the out-jutting veranda. He was pleased to see her duck through and go unnoticed inside.
A dark element within him, an unpleasant, roiling animal, sparked in his chest, and he marched back towards the townhouse, one aim in mind. He was done being honourable and now was determined to win.
On entering the ballroom, his eyes swept the room seeking out the earl. Hurstbourne stood talking to several matrons, and as Woolwich drew closer, he could see a slight note of worry playing across the earl’s features. He must be concerned about where his errant sister-in-law had gotten to.
“A word, Hurstbourne,” Woolwich muttered as chatter surrounded them, feminine voices bright and happy with the ball that was in full swing.
The earl bowed and started walking off with Woolwich. He smiled and nodded at the guests as they moved through the ballroom. Beside him, Woolwich felt cumbersome, and the burden of playing the next card felt brutal but, he reminded himself, necessary.
When Hurstbourne paused, Woolwich pointed him towards the card room, located to the side of the ballroom.
“What is this to do with?” Hurstbourne asked. “Have you seen Miss Blackman–”
“That is what I wished to speak to you about.”
All the charm and good humour that Hurstbourne had been displaying vanished in an instant as he took in the seriousness of Woolwich’s expression. His body stilled, and he pivoted to stare at Woolwich, assessing him closely, his blue eyes narrowing. “What have you done?”
“We must wed.” Woolwich thought this rather neatly avoided explaining anything too detailed to Nick, who already looked ready to kill him.
With a stride, Hurstbourne moved away from the doorway of the card room and over towards the hallway. “Miss Blackman is many things but—” Hurstbourne grabbed the door and pushed it wide, with Woolwich following him out. In the empty corridor, Nick slammed him hard against the wall as he glared at Woolwich. “She is my wife’s sister. Tell me I misunderstood you, and this is just a piece of tomfoolery.”
“I mean to marry her. I will elope with her if necessary, but I would prefer to have a special license. And your blessing.”
“This ball is serving in part as her engagement party to another man.” Hurstbourne’s grip tightened, and Woolwich let him half throttle him. He was sympathetic to the position he had put Nick in, but this was all in order to get what he wanted. If playing dirty was what it was going to take, then that was just a means to an end.
Abruptly, Hurstbourne released his hold of Woolwich’s collar and stepped back. “You bastard. What is wrong with my friends? After Trawler, I never imagined…” He stopped talking, but he still looked furious. “This will need the utmost of care. I will deal with Goudge.” He sighed, seeing that Woolwich was about to interrupt. “No, I must manage this on my own.”
