Page 32 of A Duke in Disguise
“Let them.”
They stayed that way another minute or five or ten until finally he pulled away, his hands still firm and sure on Verity’s arms. “Do you know what I’d like?” he asked. “Hot food and about half a bottle of claret.”
“Sounds like you need somebody to drink the other half.”
He bent to press a kiss on her forehead. “Thank you, Plum.”
“I like claret. It’s no sacrifice.” His lips were still warm on her skin.
“That’s not what I mean.” He pulled away and looped his arm through hers. “At some point I’m going to have to deal with this soberly, but perhaps not today.”
“Intoxication it is, then. Lead the way, my friend.”
Chapter Eleven
By mutual consent they proceeded to Hinton’s, an eating house that was a mere five minutes’ walk from Cavendish Square. It was only just past noon and the establishment was far from empty, but the clamor and bustle of other patrons would provide almost as great a sense of privacy as if they had been alone. In due time they were ensconced in the upstairs saloon with dishes of roast fowl and potatoes before them, making good headway into a bottle of wine.
Ash leaned back loosely in his chair, glass of wine in one hand. The shadow of a beard was visible on his jaw and Verity wanted to crawl into his lap and rub her cheek against his face like a demented cat. “Would you like to hear a tale of high society?” he asked too casually. This, she gathered, was how he was going to ease into telling her about what was bothering him.
“I think I’d like to hear anything you have a mind to say,” she answered equally lightly.
He sat forward in his chair and beckoned her to do the same. “Lady Caroline says my uncle murdered his wife because she failed to get him an heir,” he whispered, then sat back again. “Tell me that isn’t a plot you’ve read ten times in books put out by rival publishers.”
Verity deliberately avoided asking about Ash’s use of the worduncle. He was plainly coming sideways at acknowledging the family connection; if he wanted to talk about murder rather than the precise nature of his relationship to the Talbots, she’d oblige. “Be fair, Ash, I’ve put out about three books with that plot myself. But do you think she’s entirely in her right mind?”
“Yes, damn me, I do. I think she means to murder him unless she comes up with a better plan.”
Verity took a sip of her wine and regarded her friend. He wasn’t even pretending not to care mightily about this. There wasn’t even a shadow of feigned nonchalance or studied indifference about him. “Then, based on what you’ve said, I’d lend her a spade.”
He let out a shaky breath. “Is that what you’d advise her to do if she wrote to theLadies’ Register? Get a friend to help bury the body?”
Verity paused, chewing a mouthful of roast potato. “No. I’d tell her to pack a valise, sew her jewels into the hem of a gown, and leave before the brother could take revenge on her.”
“That’s more or less what I suggested. She says that knowing what she does, she can’t let him marry again. Exposing him is out of the question. He’ll be a duke in a matter of weeks, according to the old man’s doctors. Whereas she’s an eccentric spinster. We know which of them will be believed.”
“In a novel, he would fall down a convenient flight of stairs.”
Ash went pale. She put down her fork and reached for his hand; it was cold and clammy. “Ash, whatever is the matter? Something is plainly very wrong indeed and I’m quite worried about you. If you want to talk about it, you know I’ll listen.”
“I can’t, Verity.” He turned his hand so his palm was against hers, holding her hand tight. His fingers were strong and callused, and she remembered the feel of them against her body the previous night. “I can’t.” His voice was a low, scratchy rumble, even quieter than the near whisper in which they had conducted the earlier part of their conversation. “I’ll tell you what I want. I want to pretend the past two hours haven’t happened. I want to go home with you and take you to bed. I want anything you’ll give me and want to give you anything you need. That’s what I want.”
Her cheeks felt hot and her heart was pounding. “I want that too. Wanted it for a while, if I’m honest. Don’t know how I’ve held out so long. Last night was only a start.”
He rubbed his thumb along the soft inside of her wrist. “God help me, Plum, but I don’t know how to do this. I know how to be with you at a chophouse and, if last night is any indication”—his cheeks flushed—“I think I know how to be with you in my arms, but I don’t know how to bridge the gap. Is there supposed to be a difference in our manner towards one another? Am I behaving horribly by discussing murder when I ought to be complimenting your fine eyes?”
“I’d think you had suffered a mental decline if you started mooning over me.” She had long suspected that compliments and grand declarations were attempts to chisel away at a woman’s resistance, although she also suspected that this was fairly cynical even by her standards. In either case, she felt vaguely sick at the idea of Ash attempting to woo her, perhaps because there was only one way a successful wooing could end, and that was marriage, and out of the question. “Besides, you can’t imagine that I have any better answers than you do. I think we’re muddling through quite all right on our own.” She slid her foot under the table to touch the side of his boot.
He swirled the contents of his wineglass. “Well, you could hardly be more ignorant than I am. After all, you had your friendship with Mrs. Allenby.”
“Yes, but—” She peered quizzically at him, and then, when his meaning hit home, raised her eyebrows. “Are you saying—are you saying that you’ve never had a lover?”
He drank from his glass and put it back on the table before nodding. “That’s right, Plum.”
“I assumed you were discreet. You used to go out with my brother, and I’ve never been under the impression that he spends his nights in quiet contemplation. Why not, though? You’re very handsome. Desperately so. I assure you I’ve found your looks terribly distracting, quite inconvenient. You’d have your pick of girls.” She was babbling, and only the sound of his laughter stopped her mouth from running.
“I have no intention of bringing a bastard into the world.” His words might have been harsh but for the gentleness of his tone. “We have a duty to children, and that duty is hard to fulfill when a child has no name and no people.”
“You’re aware there are things a couple can do that don’t involve any chance of pregnancy? If not, I can’t imagine what you thought was happening in that plate you engraved for chapter five.”
