“I’m not in the mood for cards tonight.”
“Pleasure it is.” She motioned to the butler, who closed the door discreetly behind him. Now the Duke was here, she would allow no more visitors tonight. “I shall have wine brought up directly.”
He passed through her dressing room into her bedchamber, and she followed, feet bare against the carpet. Unusually, for a man so disposed to talk, he remained silent, leaning against the door and observing her as she toyed with the lace around her bosom.
Still, he would not be like that for long; men weren’t complex creatures. A little silence, a little softness, a little of her special sweetness, and they always opened themselves up to her.
“You always keep your rooms in such disarray, my dear,” he said, his customary languid tone somewhat edged.
“Why, if I had known you were coming, I might have prepared them a little.” She padded forwards to him and laid a hand on his arm. He glanced down at the contact, and at the diamond bracelet clasped around her wrist—a gift from another of her callers. “You may relax here,” she said. “When you are with me, the outside world does not exist.”
“A fanciful thought.” With an impatient movement, he shook her off. “Reality is not so easily dissuaded.”
“Then perhaps you should tell me your worries, Your Grace, and I might help.”
He laughed. “Help? You are in no position to help me, Juliet, no matter how I might wish it.”
“But you do wish it?”
A knock at the door interrupted them, and her man laid a decanter of wine, with two glasses, on the table.
“I have no wish to talk,” he said, sitting on the bed and tugging at the buttons of his waistcoat. “Not at present.”
“I’ll fetch you some wine,” she said, not allowing her unease to penetrate her voice. Something was most definitely wrong; the Duke was not a man of purely carnal delights. Her company was, usually, worth more to him.
As she returned to the bedroom, she lingered in the doorway, watching him, the wine loosely clasped in her fingers. He glanced up to see her there and beckoned her impatiently forward. There was a distracted look in his eyes she didn’t like, but she sauntered closer anyway, letting a smile curve her lips. “I believe you came here for a distraction?”
“Yes,” he said curtly. “So distract me.”
They came together with a little less than their usual passion, and when they finished, she handed him a goblet of wine, worry tightening her chest. Had he finally tired of her?
“Are you suitably distracted?” she asked.
“Momentarily.” He shook his head and gazed at the burgundy liquid as though it held the answer to his problems. “I suppose I ought to warn you I will be temporarily detained.”
Knowing better than to let the Duke see the possessiveness that threatened to grip her, she merely arched a brow. “Oh?”
“I’m getting married, and should take my bride for a brief tour of the country after we wed.”
For a moment, the only sound was the spluttering of the candlelight. The Duke of Norfolk was getting married? Tosomeone else?
Her hopes had never been properly articulated, not even to herself, but he was her longest standing lover and one of themost generous. She had thought that with enough time, she might encourage him to elevate her so he would not be obliged to lose her.
Instead,shewas losinghim.
“Really?” she said with a careless laugh. “I hadn’t thought you the marrying kind.”
“I’m not.”
She trailed her fingers along his arm to his shoulder, savouring the feel of his muscles against her skin. “Then why pledge yourself to a girl you cannot care for?”
“Obligation.” He took another sip before putting the goblet to one side. “She understands, I think, the reality of the situation between us.”
“And that reality is?”
“That we will be married in name only—at least until I have need for an heir.” He turned his gaze back to her and tugged one of her copper curls. “I have no intention of my marriage detracting from my usual life, Juliet, never fear.”
Only it would. No longer would he be the carefree Duke that had graced her bed for so long. He would have a wife, whose demands on his time could not be denied. And who, moreover, would be sure to exact such demands. No woman was safe against his charms, and especially not a girlish debutante. She would be jealous and possessive, and he would no doubt appease her.
