“What I find astonishing, Miss Smith,” he said, his eyes lit with interest, “is that no man has claimed you as his wife.”
Despite herself, a frown pulled her brows together. “I resent the fact that my life mustn’t have any meaning if I am not yet married and bred. What if I do not desire children? What if I despise men?”
His gaze seemed to bore into her, and heat flushed her chest.Too bold?Drat.
“Doyou despise men?” His voice seemed to lower an octave, and her belly gave a responding quiver.
“I do not. But I might, and I detest the notion that a woman cannot make that choice.”
“You, Miss Smith, are a radical.” His gaze turned challenging.
“Is that a problem?”
His lips pursed as he considered her. “No. As for children, I daresay it ought to be your choice, since you must bear them.”
“However?”
A sigh escaped him, and he lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Rules in society dictate that a woman’s choice be given to her husband. I imagine, therefore, it is prudent for a woman to make a superior match. If I were inclined to take a wife, I would not force the matter of children. But other men feel differently.”
“And you are not inclined to take a wife?”
His lips thinned. “Indeed not.” He blinked, and the playfulness returned to his gaze. “And what of you?”
Juliana huffed a breath. “I’ve had offers, but none I wished to accept. The…my father would—could—not offer a dowry for my hand.” The duke had refused every political alliance, was not swayed by pretty words or promises, had stated that no man would truly wish to marry his mistake of a child, and had gambled her dowry away. He was not even willing to give her away, he’d said, wishing to keep the burden of her company on him. She cleared her throat. “He said that I was too tall to attract a good husband. I…am firmly on the shelf, sir.”
Movement beyond the reflections on the window panes caught Juliana’s eye, and for one heart-thundering moment, her breath froze in her throat. Twin tingles of terror travelled down the backs of her legs, and her heart began to race.Could it be—no. That had been dealt with.
She released a slow breath before she realized that Mr. Notley was speaking.
“What kind of father would—” He spun in his seat to glance over his shoulder at the window. “What is it?”
“N-nothing, I assure you.” But the moment had been severed, and an unnatural stiffness had entered her posture. “I’d best retire for the evening. Good night, Mr. Notley.”
His gaze was curious, but he asked nothing, merely notched his chin. “Good night, Miss Smith.”
* * *
If Juliana hadn’t been so dratteddistracted by Mr. Notley, she would not have forgotten to bring the book with her to her chambers. But the man had a quick mouth that inspired decidedly licentious thoughts.
Her slippered footfalls were muffled on the corridor’s carpeted runner, the rooms dark beyond opened doorways, and the scent of coconut and beeswax drifted along the air as she made her way back to her bedchamber. A sharp bark sounded from somewhere deeper in the maze of Woodhaven Hall, and a prickle of unease lifted the hair upon her nape.
With an internal rebuke she forced her fingers to loosen on the book that she held tight against her chest. These feelings were surely borne of her nightmares, and she would do well to forget them. No one here knew the truth of her identity.
“We meet again,” a rumbling voice said from behind her.
The book dropped to the floor with a muffledthunk. Her lungs froze on a squeak, her pulse skittering in her veins and her stomach twisting painfully as she spun to stare wild-eyed into the darkness beyond the ring of candlelight.
“Miss Smith?”
The voice penetrated the fear, and she released a slow, steadying breath to calm her racing heart. She knew that voice. “Mr. Notley.”
He stepped closer and into the glow of the sconce’s candlelight. “My apologies for frightening you.” He scanned her with his hot, penetrating gaze, then bent to retrieve the book, extending it out to her.
“It was naught but a trifling startle, I assure you,” she lied, accepting the proffered book with a tight smile. “But it is I who must apologize. I suppose I oughtn’t wander the halls at night. I’d simply thought to—”
He made a soft grunt as he shook his head and stepped closer. “There is no need to be sorry, Miss Smith. This is your home; you are free to wander and explore as you please.”
Another fit of barking came from somewhere in the darkness, sending the little hairs at Juliana’s nape to stand on end.
