Page 11 of His Grace, the Duke
“Fine,” he said with a fake sigh. “If it means that much to you, I suppose I can tell you my name. But I must warn you, it’s terrible.”
She leaned in, eyes alight with new interest. “Tell me.”
“There’s only one person living who actually uses it,” he hedged. “Not even my brother calls me by my Christian name. Not Tom. Not James—”
“Just tell me,” she cried, slapping his chest.
He laughed, snatching her hand and planting a kiss on her palm before she could pull away. “It’s Horatio.”
She blinked, her lips slightly parted. “Horatio? As in...”
“As in ‘There are more things in Heaven and Earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.’”
She smiled softly, her dark eyes sparkling with delight. “Hamlet, right?”
“Aye, my mother is a whore, but a well-read one,” he replied, giving her hand another kiss. “Hamletwas always her favorite.”
“So you are Mr. Horatio Burke,” she murmured in the sweetest voice. Raising a hand, she cupped his cheek. “And now you aremyHoratio.”
The sound of his name on her lips made his cock twitch...which was deeply confusing, as the only person he allowed to use it was his sweet maman. Perhaps it was her claims of ownership that had him aching. Or perhaps it was merely Rosalie’s touch that excited him. Her presence. That spiced floral scent that filled his senses. She was still using his massage oil. She had to be nearly out of it by now. Was she rationing? Did she think of him as she dabbed it on her delicate wrists?
“Stop looking at me like that,” she whispered.
“Like what?” he replied, knowing damn well what she meant.
“Like . . .”
He leaned in, ghosting his lips over hers, teasing them with the tip of his tongue. “Like what, sweet siren?”
“I want you too,” she whispered. “I want all of you. The parts you show the world, and the parts you hide away. I want Horatio and Burke. Can you ever let me have both? Even without the piece of paper binding us one to the other... can you learn totrustme with both?”
“I’m untrusting by nature,” he admitted, cupping her cheek again.
She covered his hand with her own, turning her face to kiss his palm. “We can both try. That’s all either of us can ask of the other. Patience and the will to try... the will to trust. I said I love you, and I meant it. I loved you as Burke, and I mean to love you as Horatio too. Will you show him to me?”
He groaned, pulling away from her. “Christ, enough. Say more, and I’ll show him to you right here on the library floor.” He glanced over his shoulder towards the door. “I can’t imagine we’ll be alone much longer. Tom was only going around the corner. If not him, a nosy maid is sure to come in with a tray at any moment.”
Rosalie blinked. “Renley? He came with you?”
“Of course.” He stepped away from her, checking the time on the mantel clock. “I’m surprised he’s not back already.” He sank onto the sofa, stretching out his long legs. “Marianne said you met last night. Did you like her?”
At the lady’s name, Rosalie flinched. That was proof enough for Burke to confirm his suspicions. He smirked.
“Did she—she journeyed north with you?” she murmured, her cheeks blooming pink.
“Yes, well we were rather impatient to follow after you,” he mused, taking a sip of his coffee. He watched her with open curiosity. What thoughts now spun through his sweet siren’s mind? “She offered Tom and I use of her carriage. Did you like her?” he repeated. “I sensed from Tom that perhaps the two of you didn’t get on...”
Rosalie sank onto the sofa opposite him and busied her hands with pouring herself a cup of coffee. “Yes, we met,” she replied, her voice clipped. “She told me their happy news.”
Burke raised a brow. “Happy news?”
She nodded, both hands holding tight to her cup as she raised it to her lips. “Their engagement. Marianne told me herself.”
Burke’s heart stopped. Fear mingled with rage and confusion. It wasn’t true. It couldn’t be true. He rattled his cup onto the saucer, smacking them both down on the side table. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Renley and Marianne,” she replied. “They’re engaged.”
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