“I was an idiot, blinded by some primitive need to bend you to my will,” he said. “Selfishly, I did not recognize the truth of our situation until it was too late.”
She sagged against the seat, her brow furrowed. She was staring at him intently, but her gaze seemed unfocused. “Are we beyond all hope, Trevor?”
He felt a trickle of shame at the sad confusion that laced her tone. “Now that you are aware of the consequences, perhaps we can eventually resume marital relations. But you must fully understand that all I can offer you is physical pleasure. Nothing more.”
“Is more necessary?”
“It should be for a wife.”
She flinched. “I had no idea you were such an incurable romantic. I thought most men felt exactly the opposite when it came to marriage, expecting nothing more than a woman of breeding, civilized conversation, and children. Good looks would be a plus, but hardly a requirement. And passion? Is that even a consideration between a man and his wife?”
“’Tis your passionate nature that brings us to this juncture,” Trevor said. “It flows so easily from you, and I am merely a man, struggling to resist your allure.”
“I am your wife. Why must you resist me?”
“I thought you would want more between us than rough, hard, meaningless sex.”
He thought he might have finally succeeded in shocking her. She looked as though she was about to roar with fury.
“Is that what you are offering me?” she inquired with a chilly smile.
“Is that what you are asking of me?”
“You arrogant cur. I am not a complete ninny. I did not expect our union to be without its challenges. I admit I have been distressed to learn how very little you care about me. Despite what you may think, I have long accepted you would fail to love me. Ever. But it goes beyond that. Can you not be truthful with yourself? Apparently you do not even like me.”
“Just the opposite is true. I like you very much. Far too much.”
Irritation flashed over her lovely features. “You have a most peculiar way of showing this regard.”
“In lieu of true affection, would you prefer I seduce you with passion?” He kept his voice reasonable, hoping to emphasize his sincerity. “Forgive me, but I know that is not enough. You deserve better than what I can give you.”
“Ahh, but we seldom get what we deserve in life, do we, Trevor?” He felt a warm caress of air as she blew out her breath. Meredith’s foot began tapping an impatient rhythm, and her expression became pensive. “You have overlooked the obvious. There are practical reasons for having marital relations.”
“Are you referring to children? You never mentioned them before.” He stroked his chin thoughtfully, trying to imagine her slender form swollen with his babe. The notion brought on a tender, pleasant feeling. “Do you have an overwhelming desire to be a mother?”
“It would please the duke to have an heir,” Meredith answered.
The marquess’s hands clenched into fists. “An excellent reason to remain childless.”
“For once I quite agree. The one child we already have in the household is sufficient.”
“I assume you mean me, madame?”
She raised a haughty brow. “How very astute you are, Trevor.”
He had no witty reply. She was right. He was acting childish, but the riff between him and his father went back many years. She did not understand the complexity of the issues nor the degree of his hurt. “I must commend you for your expert handling of my father. You two have become rather cozy in a short period of time.”
Meredith sighed. “Though your tone implies you believe otherwise, I can assure you I have not done this to make you angry. Or to garner your attention.” An ironic smile flitted uncertainly across her lips. “The duke has been kind and attentive toward me. I appreciate his company.”
“He can be most charming when the occasion or circumstances suit him. But I warn you, his favor can be quickly lost and his wrath a monumental fury.”
“Rather like his son?” she remarked with innocent sweetness.
“I am a mere amateur compared to the duke.”
Meredith’s lips pressed together in a line. “I recall a time when you and your father were good friends. What is the reason for this great quarrel, this constant friction between you?”
“Lavinia.”
