Page 68 of Never a Duchess
There were a few differences.
His sumptuous lips were drawn into a thin line. He’d replaced the smart trousers with tight breeches that hugged his solid thighs. The shoes were now Hessian boots.
“You’ve been riding,” was all she could think to say.
“I longed to feel the wind in my face, but the fog came down too quickly.” He gripped the jamb as if speaking proved tiring. “Thankfully, I didnae give my groomsman the day off.”
She sensed he was about to turn her away, and so did the unthinkable and scooted under his arm, forcing her way inside.
“It’s too cold and damp to converse on the doorstep, and I have much to say.” She followed the glow of lamplight to the drawing room, expecting to find tartan curtains and trophy heads lining the wall, not elegantly carved chairs and walnut side tables. “If I didn’t know better, I would think this is an Englishman’s home.”
He lingered in the doorway, governed by the invisible barrier he had placed between them. “I must keep one room fit for entertaining English peers. The rest of the house is nae so agreeable.”
“Good.”
He stepped into the room, his gaze moving to the basket resting on the plush Persian rug. “Why are ye here, Lillian?”
“You made a blood oath. One you cannot break.” Quickly removing her cloak, she draped it over the chair and brushed her hands over her favourite green dress. “Let me see if I can remember the words verbatim.”
“I know what I said.” He dropped onto the plush sofa, stretching out one leg to prevent her from sitting beside him.
“You took my blood and mingled it with your own.” Should she be shocked she’d found it an erotic experience? “You sucked it into your mouth and swallowed it down, cementing our bond.”
“Ye don’t need to remind me.”
Was the memory etched into his soul, too?
“I swear by Almighty God, I will be faithful and firm,” she said, repeating his promise. “You tricked me. You made me believe you never break a vow.”
He watched her, his eyes never leaving hers, not to examine her trembling lips, not to admire her heaving bosom as she battled her nerves.
“How have I broken my vow?” he challenged.
She moved to sit on the sofa, wedging her bottom between his legs and relaxing against his broad chest. His body was hard yet warm and comforting, the merest touch lighting her inner flame.
“You chose to forget why you made the promise.” When she captured his hand, he inhaled deeply but did not pull away. She examined his long fingers and gold seal ring, touched the intriguing callous that had no place on a duke’s hand. “You agreed to help me find the answers I needed. You were firm. Resolute. Now you’re faltering.”
His breath came quicker. “Though yer an innocent, it’s obvious where our research will lead.”
She snuggled into him, splaying her hand on his chest. “I’m no innocent. You parted my legs, pushed your fingers inside me, and made me shatter into a thousand pieces.”
A groan rumbled in his throat, but he said nothing.
“Do you know why I accepted your offer to tutor me?”
Because he had caught her unawares.
Because she’d been unable to deny her darkest desires.
“Aye, so ye would know what lust feels like. I agreed because I couldnae bear the thought of ye experiencing it with anyone else. ’Twas perhaps the most selfish thing I have ever done.”
His confession gave her the confidence to press him harder. It helped that she wasn’t gazing into those entrancing dark eyes. “You showed me lust could be beautiful, not vulgar. You made me feel things, wonderful things, and I’ve felt nothing for such a long time.”
“We’ve dealt with the deaths of our mothers differently,” he said, a sense of distance in his voice again. “I want to live. I want to feel everything. Whereas ye want to live half a life. Feel nothing. Feel empty.”
But I feel something now.
I feel something for you.
