Page 12 of The Wicked Duke's Convenient Bride
His Grace could have at least feigned some interest in performing the role of a doting husband. If he did not, Tabitha supposed that his callousness ensured she would never fall in love with him, however, which was the desired outcome, after all.
“I shall give you a child as quickly as I can,” Tabitha replied, “so I may then pursue whatever I wish for the remainder of my life.”
“I think that a fair exchange.”
“Indeed, I am sure that all the ladies in the ton will be terribly jealous that I have found such a romantic and loving man to be my husband.”
He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and shook his head. “I was under the impression that you did not want that. You would never become so foolish as to love another man again. Was that not what you said?”
“It is what I said but given that I am going to be carrying your child, I had assumed you would offer some sweet words, at least, to seduce me.”
“You may say sweet words to yourself if you desire them so badly.”
Tabitha took a steadying breath. A small part of her, which she always tried to bury deep within her, loved arguing. She loved exchanging clever words with another person and laying out clever arguments. Although it was not an entirely proper course of study for a young lady, Tabitha had loved learning rhetoric as a child. Had she been a man, she liked to think that she would have become a barrister and enjoyed besting other clever men.
And yet, this man was utterly infuriating. He had some snide remark for everything she said, and he delivered all his heartless words with an easy smirk and a stern gleam in his green eyes. Tabitha suspected that he thought her a delicate young lady who would wilt at the slightest provocation, but she was something far more than that.
“It is unfortunate that I have wed a man so lacking in wit,” she said, “that he cannot find a single pleasant thing to say to me.”
“I have wit aplenty, but I see no reason to waste it on an unworthy opponent.”
“Who are you to say that I am unworthy?” Tabitha asked. “We have only spoken on a small number of occasions.”
“You leave an impression.”
“As do you. But I cannot imagine that you have learned so much of me when you will scarcely exchange words with me. To determine the true breadth of my wit, you must engage with me.”
“I have already engaged with you,” he said. “But unless pleasant words will cause you to produce an heir more quickly, I cannot see the need for them.”
“Do you suppose that I will be happy in your bed without them?”
“Who knows?” he asked. “If you agree to an amorous encounter with me, that is all that is needed to produce an heir. I imagine that you will do your duty, as I intend to do mine. But if the idea of bearing my child sounds so arduous to you, perhaps we ought to reconsider this entire engagement.”
Tabitha tensed. She tried to look unaffected. Rather than answering, she poured herself a careful cup of tea and sipped it. The warm, herbal taste was steadying.
“What happened to your wit?” His Grace drawled. “Did you run out of words?”
“Not at all,” she answered. “I was merely taking a pause. It would be disrespectful to come to a tea house and not sample.”
“I see. You know, of course, that if you are so unhappy with this arrangement, you are welcome to break off the engagement,” he said, mocking raising his teacup. “I am not forcing you to come to the altar.”
Tabitha frowned. She wondered if he was trying to persuade her to break it off. Maybe he did not wish for this match, and his infuriating behaviour was a sly attempt to make her decide that she did not wish to wed. What possible reason could he have for doing such a thing, though? He was the Duke of Hillsburgh and had all the wealth and prestige that title implied. Sure, he had become a recluse in recent years, but the return of the mysterious Duke of Hillsburgh was precisely the sort of scandal that the ton loved. If he attended more events, he would find other young ladies who were willing to wed him. He did not have to marry someone like her, but he was.
He wanted an heir, but many young ladies could give him that. Why did His Grace not wish to find a lady with whom he might develop some affection? “Why did you react so strangely to me at the ball?” she asked.
Tabitha had a feeling that she had stumbled onto some secret to better understand the Duke of Hillsburgh, but she could not say what precisely that secret was.
“It seemed to me that we both desired the same thing,” he said. “A loveless union built on a foundation of duty.”
“Oh, I see.”
He might have told her that instead of returning her to her family like some unwanted thing. Tabitha took a large swallow of tea. She had seen the amusement on his face that night, and she had thought that he was planning some terrible revenge on her. But no, he had been amused because their goals seemed to align with one another, and he had said nothing about it.
“And that is the trait you desire in your bride,” she said. “I suppose that is why you have not entertained the affections of any other young ladies. You fear that they may grow fond of you, and that would be terrible. Would it not?”
“Doubtlessly. You implied as much.”
Tabitha traced a finger around the rim of her teacup and frowned, trying to sort through her feelings. This man was so strange. She could not decide whether she disliked or enjoyed his company. On the one hand, he was infuriating. On the other, he was witty and somewhat charming. And admittedly, he was very handsome, but that was another problem entirely.
