Page 69 of His Grace, the Duke
She stiffened in their arms, her face still pressed into Burke’s cravat. “I don’t know how,” she whispered, her voice breaking.
Burke felt the humility of her declaration down to his very bones. This beautiful creature had known nothing but violence and rejection and dismissal all her life. She didn’t know how to let them in. She didn’t know how to let them love her. Still holding tight to her and Tom, he lowered his head to kiss her temple. “Let us teach you.”
31
Rosalie
This author canconfidentlyreportthattheillustriousV—F—recentlyreturnedtotown.HewasspottedintheearlyhoursofSaturdayarrivingatC—House.Rumorsaboundastotheidentityofacertainladyseenonhisarm... andsportinghiseveningcoat.
Rosalie set the folded newspaper aside. “Is this the last one?”
Renley nodded, his hand rubbing small circles on her back over her chemise. “There may be more in the coming days. Though your window escape will cause a bigger splash,” he added.
“George makes the papers so often, thetonwill hardly see it as sensational,” Burke said from her other side. “He’s always been an eccentric.”
She considered this for a moment. “Meaning the focus will be on me entirely... no one will care about his behavior. They will only mark mine.”
Burke shrugged. “Thetonalways marks a lady’s conduct more harshly than a lord’s.”
They were sitting on her bed, the early morning sunlightpeeking in through her cracked curtains. Last night, they’d been so gentle with her, holding her and murmuring soft words as she fell asleep in their arms. She woke to find Burke’s place empty, but he’d returned before she could question his absence, the small stack of papers in hand.
The gossip wasn’t as bad as she imagined—half a dozen pieces announcing the arrival of Viscount Finchley. Her name wasn’t referenced in any of them, but two made mention of her dark hair. It wasn’t hard to piece the rest together.
She handed the papers back to Burke. “We need to talk about Olivia.”
He set them aside. “I don’t like having other women mentioned when I’m in your bed,” he replied, pulling her closer.
“In this case, sir,Iam the other woman.”
He stiffened, his forehead pressed against the nape of her neck.
“She is your intended. Even if you don’t mean to follow through with the wedding, you still shook hands with her mother. You agreed—”
“Under duress,” he growled.
“All the same...” She shifted away from him, turning to meet his stormy grey eyes. “You need to speak with her. Alone. Do it today. You need to make her understand your intentions. She deserves the truth, Burke.”
He raised a dark brow. “You think it wise to tell her about us?”
“If she is half the lady I think she is, she’ll already be hard at work recruiting gossip from the staff here. And you have not been discreet,” she reminded him. “I imagine there is little else on this Earth surer to upset her than humiliation. Tell her that we mean to see a way out for her.”
Burke glanced at Renley, seeking confirmation.
She looked back to see Renley stretched out, arms tucked behind his head and his broad, muscled chest on display. Each time she saw his tattoos, she fought the urge to trace them with her fingers, her lips...
“I agree with Rose,” he said. “Secrets and lies make me edgy. I may think the gorgon deserves to be brought down a peg... but not like this. And certainly not in any way that will reflect badly on Rose.”
A sound down the hall of a shutting door made them all twitch.
“Heavens, the servants will already be moving about,” she whispered, checking the time on the mantel clock. “You both have to go. Now.”
They wasted no time getting out of the bed. Renley slept in his breeches, but his shirt was left discarded on the floor. He tugged it on, while Burke worked himself into his robe. Apparently, the man always slept naked, company or no. Rosalie felt a little flutter in her chest knowing she was learning these intimate habits.
“We may not see you again until dinner,” Renley said, coming around the end of the bed. He wrapped her in his arms, kissing her twice. Her senses swam. Each time he kissed her, she felt it everywhere.
No sooner had she recovered than Burke was there. He cupped her face with both hands. “Don’t think I will soon forget your comment about being the other woman,” he said. “Add it to the list of things I intend to punish you for... soon.”
With that threat, he kissed her, nipping her bottom lip hard enough to make her wince. He pulled back, brushing histhumb lightly over the abused lip. “There is no other woman, Rosalie Harrow. There is only you.”
