Lewis shook his head. “My lady, I have no desire to withdraw my proposal, and I doubt your words will persuade me otherwise.”
“We shall see.”
CHAPTER 5
The Duke of Wheelton offered no response to her challenge. His face did not even flicker with emotion—not amusement, not eagerness, nor even dismay. A wall would have offered as much of a response as he. Bridget inhaled deeply. There was a vindictive part of her that was determined to make this man react, so she could see the cracks in his stony façade.
But persuading him to withdraw his proposal took precedence over any personal satisfaction that she might have gleaned from discomforting him.
“You do not wish to marry me,” Bridget began. “And because I was already ruined before you encountered me, no one would think poorly of you if you were to walk away now and leave me behind.”
“Is that so?”
“Indeed.”
His Grace shook his head. “I will not withdraw the proposal. I am a man of my word, and I always have been.”
“So?”
“So, I have no intention on going back on my word now,” he said. “I have never taken back any of my words before.”
Bridget raised an eyebrow. “Impossible.”
“How so?”
“Because everyone lies or says things that they regret,” Bridget said. “You say that you have never taken any words back as if it is a good thing, but what I hear is a man who is unable to admit when he is wrong.”
“How presumptuous, my lady.”
Is that really all he has to say?
Bridget crossed her arms. Maybe her plan to vex the man did have some merit. It was clear that he would not be reasoned with, but maybe she could be so troublesome that he would realize she was entirely unsuitable as his future wife.
“If you are to marry me, you will have to become accustomed to a presumptuous wife,” she said. “I will make no allowances for you.”
“You will not have to.”
“Well, clearly?—”
He moved forward, as swiftly as a snake and grasped her chin. Bridget’s breath shuddered in her chest, and her thoughts all came to a crashing halt. Her heart hammered so loudly against her ribs that its echo reverberated inside her own skull. His Grace loomed over her, and a shiver traced the path of her spine.
He was so strong and massive that he could do anything to her, and she would be powerless to stop him. The thought should have been terrifying, but instead, it sent a little thrill of delight through her.
“You will not be this difficult when you are my wife,” he said in his low, rumbling voice.
Bridget found herself speechless. All her witty retorts fell apart like torn cloth inside her mind, and although he was frustrating, that same strange heat began to build between her legs. She pressed her thighs together in a confused attempt to quell the sensation but to no avail.
“I will teach you how to properly behave,” His Grace continued. “You have been allowed too much freedom, and it is clear thatyou have not grown into a respectable woman. You are too ruled by your passions, and if someone does not intervene, you will be consumed by them.”
Bridget jerked her head back, and he dropped his hand. She took a step away, stumbling over the hem of her gown. “How dare you touch me?” she hissed.
“What? Are you afraid that you will be ruined for a third time?”
Bridget reached behind her, seizing onto the banister and holding it as if it was the only source of stability in the world. “No, I fear nothing.”
He laughed humorlessly. “That explains much about your behavior. There are certain things that a proper duchessshouldfear.”
“Ridiculous!”
