She gasped for breath, dashing at the tears flooding her eyes. “I am not hurt.”
A hiccup escaped her.
His expression changed. “Christ. You’re bosky.”
“A trifle disguised,” she said, and then dissolved into another fit of giggles.
This behavior was quite unlike herself. She had never consumed this much wine in one day before now, nor had she laughed so hard or for so long. There was precious little humor to be found in her current predicament, and yet she could not seem to stop the laughter now that it had begun.
“Where did this bottle of wine come from?” he asked, reaching for the abandoned Sauternes and holding it aloft.
“I brought it…” She paused as ahiccupinterrupted her response. “…with me.”
Instead of doing what she supposed he would—frowning at her or offering chastisement—he pulled the cork free and gave the bottle a sniff. “Was it sufficient to make you forget you married a base Scotland Yard inspector?”
His question was enough to make her laughter die.
She heaved herself into a sitting position, wincing when her tightly laced corset dug painfully into her sides. “I was not trying to forget.”
That was a lie though, was it not?
“You did not want this marriage,” he said, bringing the bottle to his lips and taking a sip of the wine.
Guilt lanced her. “I did not want any marriage, not just specifically this one.”
A bead of wine caught on the fullness of his lower lip, and he licked it away. She found herself strangely captivated by those lips once more. It was not the mouth of a detective, nor of a duke. It was sensual. The mouth of a lover. What would it feel like on hers? Would his kisses be harsh and swift, or would they be soft and tender? Perhaps somewhere in the middle.
Why should she care? She had never thought about kissing a man before. Likely, it was the Sauternes and her recently altered marital state that forced the notion into her mind now.
“In that, we are well-matched,” her new husband said, raising the bottle toward her in salute before he took another drink.
How odd it was to be sitting in a heap of silk and lace on the floor of her new boudoir, her husband seated opposite her. This was not at all how she had expected her wedding day to proceed.
“You did not wish for marriage either?” she ventured.
Whether it was the wine that was somehow inspiring an interest in her husband or the candor of the moment, she could not say. But she was suddenly curious to know more about him. She was bound to him now, after all.
“I never planned to marry.” He held the neck of the bottle, studying her with his extraordinary blue-gray gaze. “I was content with my life as it was. However, change necessitated I alter my position on the matter. Why did you agree to this marriage if it is not what you wish, Elysande?”
There was something about the way he said her name in his deep, rich voice that resulted in a stirring warmth low in her belly. She was suddenly aware of him in a new way. The scent of his shaving soap, masculine and musky, teased her senses.
“My sister,” she conceded, thinking to occupy her madly whirling mind with speaking. If she sat here gazing at him, thinking foolish thoughts, she did not know what she would do. How strange her reaction to him was. “Izzy wants to marry her love, and I am the eldest. My parents may be unconventional in some ways, but in others, they remain firmly entrenched in society’s rules. I needed to wed before my sister could find her happiness, and I did not want to stand in the way any longer.”
“Selfless of you, settling upon marriage for Lady Isolde’s sake.”
She shrugged. “I do not see it so. I love her, and I want her to be happy.”
“And yet, sacrificing yourself? Surely that is the definition of selflessness.” He took another slow sip from the bottle, watching her, awaiting her answer.
“If I am selfless, then you are as well,” she pointed out. “You married for duty, did you not?”
“I married you because I had no other choice.”
His blunt candor made her wince once again, but not because of her pinching corset this time. “Why, Duke, you certainly do know how to make a lady feel her charms.”
His lips curved upward in a rueful grin. “Forgive me. I did not mean that in the way it sounded. What I meant to say was that I married you to settle debts with your dowry. Your charms are a windfall I shall happily collect.”
Heavens, he was even more handsome when he smiled. What to do with this new knowledge? Banishing it would be safest, she was sure.
