Page 73 of Project Duchess
Or letting her uncle make her his mistress.
Grey scowled. Damn that man. It drove him mad just to think of how her uncle Armie had tormented her. It drove him mad that she was withdrawing from him. Again. And all over some perception of how he’d lived his life.
Or perhaps because Grey hadn’t yet made the offer of marriage that he knew he must. It was the only recourse when a gentleman ruined a woman. Despite his behavior this night, hewasa gentleman.
But first he’d better rid her of the perception he’d given her by alluding to his other intimate experiences, like a fool. “You needn’t worry about the women I’ve had in my bed.”
“Oh? Why not?”
“Because they stopped being part of my life years ago. Once I figured out that sowing wild oats only gets you weeds, that sort of indiscriminate behavior lost its appeal.”
She eyed him uncertainly. “Yearsago?”
“More or less. To be honest, I’d rather pleasure myself than go into the stews and risk theft and disease. I’ve had a couple of dalliances with merry widows, and I briefly kept a mistress, but . . .” He met her inquisitive gaze, and his tone softened. “I found such experiences eminently less satisfying than our short acquaintance has proven to be.”
He was glad he’d admitted the truth when her eyes lit up. “Really?”
“I told you—I’ve never lied to you.”
She digested that a moment. “Perhaps. But until this evening you never revealed that you thought I’d taken part in both my uncles’ murders, either.”
God save him. His sins were coming home to roost. “That was a temporary madness born of Sheridan’s discovery this afternoon that your uncles were planning to sell this place. Directly after he told me, I marched over here without stopping to think. But honestly, sweetheart, once my saner impulses asserted themselves, I knew it was absurd.”
She ran her fingers over his chest. “So you didn’treallythink I could have murdered them both.”
His impulse to convince her warred with his impulse to tease her. The latter won out. “Of course I did.” When she gaped at him, he added blithely, “Your dogs will obey your every command, so you probably spent months teaching them how to drag your uncle Armie from his horse and break his neck. Then when my stepfather came along, you taught them to shove him off a bridge. It’s clear as day to me now.”
“Grey!” she cried, though she was obviously suppressing a laugh.
“You did brag to me about how well you trained them.”
She swatted his shoulder with her hand. “I didn’t train them tokill, for pity’s sake.”
“Ah. There goesthattheory.”
When he grinned at her, she rolled her eyes. “You really are incorrigible.”
“You’ve got me confused with Thorn.”
“I have not.” Turning serious, she cuddled up next to him. “You may hide your tendencies better, but you and Thorn are more like each other than you will admit.”
That gave him pause. “Do you think so?”
“I do.” She stared into his eyes. “What made you separate yourself from your family for so long, anyway?”
He tensed. This was exactly what he’d been afraid of—letting someone he cared about into his inner sanctum. Letting that someone see his weaknesses. “They lived in Prussia. I lived here. That should be obvious.”
She searched his face. “It’s more than that.”
Damn her for being so perceptive. Why was it that the rest of his family hadn’t hit upon the truth? Why was it only her?
He couldn’t let her see his deepest fears. “You’re imagining things.”
“I don’t think so.”
Leaning over to stare down at her, he murmured, “I don’t want to talk about my family. Or yours, for that matter. If we have all night, I mean to spend it in more enjoyable pursuits. Like this.” He slid his hand down to cup her below. “I ache for you again.” God save him, but it was true. “Do you ache for me?”
She softened. “You know I do.”
