“Oh, I disagree,” he said. “I think you will take well to my lessons. Indeed, you will find the reward for being my proper wife so agreeable that you will beg for it.”
Lewis halted abruptly along the path, and Lady Bridget stumbled to a stop before him. Color had risen to her cheeks, and her breath came quickly. He allowed himself a long, lingering look once more on her breasts, heaving and straining against the confines of her gown.
“You are presumptuous,” Lady Bridget said, “and it is unbecoming for a man of your position.”
She wassofiery. It took all the strength of his will not to pull the young lady to him and show her precisely which one of them would win their little contest of wills.
“You should not concern yourself with what society says,” Lewis said. “Otherwise, there will be consequences. You might find yourself once more thrown into a lake.”
“That was not my fault,” she scoffed.
“It was. No one made you confront Lady Susan. You chose to do that yourself, and I saved you,” he continued. “And before that, your siblings saved you. They arealwayssaving you.”
Red-faced, Lady Bridget averted her eyes. “You do not know anything about my family or me.”
“I know enough. As my wife, you must be in a position to control your surroundings. You must not be ruled by them.”
Acting on impulse, he reached out. Lewis had the wild impulse of taking her and bringing their bodies together, but instead, he trailed a finger up the young woman’s arm. He dared let his touch drift just above her gloves. Lady Bridget’s skin was warm and soft, and her breath hitched.
“What are you doing?” she whispered without any heat.
“You are mine,” he said.
“I am not—not yet,” she said. “And given your behavior, I find you to be rather hypocritical. Are you always perfectly composed, Your Grace? I doubt that.”
“You will have to find out.”
“What made you like this?” Lady Bridget asked, undeterred.
The question struck him hard, and his chest suddenly ached. A sensation perilously close to guilt curled inside him. Forcing a rakish smile, Lewis said, “And that is the conclusion of our first lesson, my lady. I anticipate many more to come.”
CHAPTER 12
Bridget took a sip of tea, her thoughts an ocean away, as she sat across from her sister in the parlor. Framed by the morning light streaming through the windows, Dorothy looked nearly angelic. A perfect wife, mother, and duchess.
Bridget imagined herself someday sitting like that, and her chest tightened. His Grace wanted Bridget to become aperfect wife. But what did that mean? Did he want her to be like Dorothy, so selfless and proper? Bridget clenched her jaw, recoiling from the thought of herself being like her elder sister, who had always been all the things that Bridget was not.
“I heard that you met with the Duke of Wheelton,” Dorothy said, furrowing her brow. “How was that?”
Bridget shrugged. “It went as can be expected.”
She would never tell her sister that His Grace’s soft, sultry voice made her heart race like no man ever had. Her body awakened with desires that she did not even have names for, and even when he was pretentious and domineering, Bridget’s thoughts grew strange and hazy from need.
“I see.” Dorothy paused, her eyes softening. “And what did you expect?”
“An awkward conversation,” Bridget replied. “It was like speaking to any other stranger.”
Dorothy’s brow furrowed in worry. “Did he say anything…well, you must have made some determinations about his character. What do you think about him as a man?”
“He is insufferable. Arrogant.”
Absurdly attractive.
Bridget grimaced.
“Most men are,” Dorothy mused, sounding uncertain.
“Including your husband?” Bridget asked.
