He cleared his throat. “I believe you were going to tell me why you are here? Does it have something to do with my son?”
“I suppose, in a way…yes.” She neatly laid the towel she had used on her hair over the roll-arm of the sofa.
Everything she did was so bloody graceful. Every movement like a dance. He knew, from betrothal contract discussions with her brother, that she had been bred for this, bred to be a duchess. But it didn’t cease to amaze him how innate her grace was, even now, freezing cold,shakingfrom cold, everything she did was poised, refined.
He tilted his head when she didn’t elaborate. “In a way…has he done something?”
She stepped toward him, and unease skittered over him like a moist breath against the back of his neck.
Her gaze latched onto his. “His escapades are no secret, as I am sure you are aware, Your Grace.”
She took another step. Inches, bloody inches, separated them.
“I confronted him. I wanted to know if it would ever stop—his having relations with other women. At first, I thought perhaps all I needed to do was…sleep with him myself.”
She paused, and so did his lungs. His son ruined her, then. Colborn had—he swallowed roughly—slept with the woman standing before him. He tried to let out the breath, but it came out uneven. Something sharp seemed to be perforating his lungs.
Everything would be well. They would settle on a date for the wedding, finally. His stomach turned over. All would be well. So very well. Had he said that things would be well?
He was only having trouble breathing because Colborn had anticipated his vows, it had nothing to do withwhoColborn had anticipated his vows with. That and Felicity was possibly now in the family way.
Oh God.His gaze flew to her stomach. He might be sick.
“I tried that three years ago,” she continued, and his eyes snapped to hers. “And as you can see, it didn’t have the desired effect. It wasn’tdesirablein the least, if I’m being honest.”
Relief allowed his lungs to finally work again. Not in the family way.Thank the bloody gods.He was relieved purely because it was one less mess of his son’s to clean up. Her last words didn’t give him any satisfaction.Keep telling yourself that.
She traced her finger over the rim of her brandy glass and coasted it inside, wetting her finger with the liquor. And placed the digit in her mouth. And sucked the brandy off.
Bloody fucking buggering hell. Fortunately, he didn’t groan. But it was close.
What were they discussing again? His son bedding her. His stomach revolted. He told himself it was just the thought of his son being with a woman. It had nothing to do with how much he hated the thought ofherwith another man.
He didn’t hate the thought.
Because he didn’t even think the thought.
Obviously.
“Since bedding him hadn’t worked—”
His stomach churned again.
“—I asked him if he would stop once we were married. Perhaps we could settle on a date. Four years is a very long time to be betrothed, Your Grace. People gossip.”
Something heartbreaking flashed across her face, and he thought he might understand why. He had heard the whispers.Weak, pitiable, pathetic, never-to-be-wed.And he was rarely ever even in London. He couldn’t imagine what she faced because of his son’s carousing.
“I can speak with Colborn. We can secure a date on the calendar. As soon as you’d like.” He knew he should have pushed Colborn to set a date, to stop stringing the lovely woman in front of him along. Ash and the young woman’s brother, Lord Bentley, had decided it would occur within the next year. But Ash hadn’t been able to bring himself to discuss it with Colborn. For reasons he wasn’t ever going to let see the light of day.
She laughed, and his chin jutted back at the hardness in her usually soft, angelic face. Her shoulders were rolled back, her chin lifted defiantly, her amber eyes flashing fire. He had never seen her look so—
Dangerous.
And she was the epitome of dangerous. To him. She was a goddess. The Norse goddess Freya. Goddess of love and beauty, but also war and death.
“I don’t want a date, Your Grace. I don’t want a wedding. I confronted your son, and he does not plan to be faithful.”
Ash winced.
