Despite the strength and decisiveness she had shown on that first night they met, there was something about her—an inherent submissiveness in her true nature appealed to him on a baser level, while her bright mind and rapier wit engaged him on a personal one.
“That will be the first time,” Alice said kindly. “My aunt would disagree.”
“Alice, have you ever allowed yourself a moment to just… be?” He asked quietly.
She gazed at him, question heavy in her eyes. “What do you mean, Your Grace?”
CHAPTER 12
Anatural pink flush of anxiety colored her cheeks. She bit her lips gently, nervously, which only enforced his instincts about her. He freely admitted to himself that his fantasies revolved around teaching her the intricacies of submission, disciplining her when she was naughty, and enjoying her passionate and submissive nature.
But he did not know how she would take it.
“When was the last time you were able to let go of that rigid cloak of control you hold so tightly around yourself,” Edward asked. “Is it not tiring to be the strong one all the time?”
She glanced down at the glass. “I think I need something stronger for this conversation.”
Swapping her water for an arrack punch, she sipped the drink, then murmured, “When my parents passed this life, I knew, without saying, that it was my obligation to make sure Penelopehad an easier role in life. Mother and father had done their best, but now it was my turn.”
Edward couldn’t stop himself from grasping her chin with gloved fingers. “But what about you? What aboutyourneeds?”
She blinked, utterly innocently. “I suppose I desire a faithful man who loves me.”
Of course she would want such a thing.
“Aside from the fact that love does not exist, what do you imagine would free you from the burdens you carry?” he asked.
She stared at him with jaw slackened. “I beg your pardon, Your Grace? Lovedoesexist,” she sputtered.
“In novels, yes,” he agreed easily, “And the minds of naïve females who read them and think those righteous princes are real.”
This time, her eyes narrowed, and Edward hated how her vitriol stirred his loins. She sharpened her gaze up at him. “What about romance?”
“Romance or seduction?” Edward replied. “One is fanciful, and the other is matter of fact. I think you know which is which.”
Her chin notched up. “Why did I ever entertain the thought that a man like you knows anything about love?”
I am having more fun with this than I ought to.
“A man like me?” he asked. “There are no other men like me.”
“Well, you are a rake, are you not?” she accused.
“I am also a Duke,” he pointed out. “And I understand the human nature and how layered it is. There is not one pure emotion in the human heart—well, aside fromhate. That is the only exception.”
“A theologian would argue if one exists, then the other must as well,” Alice countered. “If the Devil exists, so must God. If hate exists, so must love.”
Belatedly, Edward realized that they were alone in the refreshment nook, way beyond the point of propriety; the only safeguard was that they were close to the opening and still in full view.
“I don’t think this is the right place to have this conversation,” he murmured while his eyes latched onto the doorway.
“I don’t think we should be having this conversation at all,” Alice replied with a curtsey, before heading to the door—only to be forced to retract her steps.
The glass in Edward’s hand almost slipped when Hamlet Grimes stepped into the room, and Rutledge followed him. At the outset, no one would ever believe Grimes was not a part of the Upper Ten, the man looked the part with his blades of cheekbones and Roman nose. Above his noble forehead, his carefully combed golden-brown hair had a thick, enticing wave.
The only identifier that would give away the cruel king of the underworld was the silver scar on his temple and the hardness in his stony brown eyes. Rutledge was bloodless but still stood upright.
“What—” Alice’s gaze flickered from one to the other. “What is happening here?”
