Page 163 of His Grace, the Duke
He frowned, setting aside the folder. “What makes you think I wouldn’t want children?”
Did she really have to spell it out for him? “Well... what if the first child I carry is Tom’s? What if it is a boy? Would it be your heir, Your Grace? Would the next Duke of Norland be Tom Renley’s bastard?”
James had the audacity to shrug. “I would claim it. I would claim any children you have as my own. They will be Corbins. That’s all that matters in society’s eyes.” He glanced from Burke to Tom. “Risk comes with reward. All the children are mine. Agreed?”
Tom nodded, while Burke just said “of course.”
Allthe children? She pressed a hand to her fluttering heart. “You can’t be serious. You would knowingly deceive everyone? Deceive the Crown? Defy your Corbin blood?”
“Corbin blood got us George,” he replied. “And we all know how well that turned out. Renleys are upstanding people. I’d be proud to think of a Renley inheriting my title.”
“Hmm... and what is the opposite of upstanding?” Burke teased. “For surely that explains a Burke. And if children are indeed on the table, you can be sure I intend to devour you, sweet siren. And every black-haired beauty you birth will be named after me.”
“Rose has dark hair too, so that’s hardly fair,” Tom replied.
“I’m going mad,” she murmured, pressing both hands to her chest. “This is madness.”
Tom narrowed his eyes at her. “Rose, why do you hesitate? Is this not everything you want too?”
She turned to James, tears in her eyes. “You did all of this. From the moment we arrived in London, you’ve been planning this out, moving the pieces in your chess game. You were going to watch me marry another man... why?”
He sighed, holding her gaze. “Because I wanted you both to be happy, even if it could never be with me.”
A tear slipped down her cheek. “And now?”
“And now I want you to marry me. I want you all to stay here with me. I am your Atlas, Rosalie. It all falls on my shoulders. For us all to be together, I must be your husband. Only my title can protect us all. The only way it protects you is if we’re married. But it must be your choice. Your money frees you to choose.”
She turned to Burke. “What about you? This money could free you. We could split it—”
“I am exactly where I’m meant to be.” He glanced over at Tom. “Tom, are you in?”
Tom smiled at Rosalie, a look so full of love and confidence. “Over the cliff, and over again.”
She spun back to face James. “And you, Your Grace?”
He frowned. “Are my intentions not already clear?”
Burke sighed. “Yes, but we’re speaking them aloud just now, trying to have a moment. Join us, won’t you?”
James held her gaze. “I want to marry you, Rosalie Harrow. I want you to be my duchess and my wife. I want to wake with you in my arms every morning. But most of all, I want you to want me... wantus. Enough to stay, enough to try this, enough to trust us with your heart and earn the right to love you. And I want this painful moment to be over, and I want you to answer me, because if I’m left wondering if you’llever say yes much longer, the ulcer I’ve named after you will burst, and I’ll die, and this will have all been for nothing.”
She couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her. Was it possible for a heart to feel so much happiness? She glanced from Tom to a smiling Burke, back to James. “Yes, Your Grace.”
James blinked, lips parting in surprise. “Wait... yes?”
“Yes, I will marry you.”
Before she could even take a breath, James was on his feet and crossing to her side. She readied for a kiss or a tender embrace. But no, he grabbed her around the middle and threw her over his shoulder.
“James,” she shrieked. “What are you doing? Put me down—”
He held tighter to her, moving towards the door. “I’m marrying you.”
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Rosalie
Rosalie was bouncedand jostled on James’ shoulder as he took the stairs two at a time. She gripped to his coat, squirming as she feared he might tip her right off his shoulder and send her tumbling down the stairs. “James, put me down!”
