Chapter 5
Duncan pinched his lips together at Hannah’s question. He had to admire her for being a spitfire, that was certain. Still, he was not accustomed to sharing himself with anyone.
He shifted. “Normally I would tell you that my reasons are none of your business. However…”
She returned to the settee and met his gaze. “However?”
“It seems that is not true. Our lives are tangled now, not only because of this arrangement I made with your father, but because of the experience we shared last night.”
She nodded. “I wasn’t certain if it moved you as it did me. Especially when you first entered the room and looked so unaffected when I was immediately drawn to you.”
He smiled at her honesty. He didn’t know many people who would be so. He rather liked it about her.
“I was not unaffected,” he admitted. “Not even in the smallest way. Hannah, when I saw you, I immediately knew you. And I immediately longed to cross the room, gather you into my arms and pick up just where we started. It was only the strangeness of the situation that kept me pretending. The fact that you had spoken so ill of the man you thought you would wed.”
She frowned. “My father has been pushing me toward Viscount Gordon,” she whispered.
Duncan flinched. He knew the man. He was a disgusting person, and the idea that he would ever lay a finger on Hannah made his blood boil.
“He is almost old enough to be your grandfather,” he growled.
She swallowed and her disgust was plain on her face, the shadow of her desperation even though that threat was now gone. No wonder she had run to Donville and given away her innocence so recklessly.
The alternative had been leagues worst.
“My father wasn’t matching me for my happiness, but for connection,” she whispered, and her breath caught. Tears filled her eyes. The fear she still felt, the heartbreak, was palpable.
Duncan leaned forward and took her hand. The moment he did, desire flooded his senses. Powerful, almost undeniable. He fought to remain calm. To remain proper because she needed that from him, not to be accosted on the settee in her father’s house.
“I am not him,” he said softly.
“No,” she whispered. “But I still don’t know your motives, even if I know I don’t have to fear you physically.”
He nodded. “Very well. You asked my reasons and here they are. My brother inherited his earldom six months ago. We were once close, but he has become increasingly disappointed in me over the years. He felt my father too indulgent in supporting the lifestyle I was leading.”
She tilted her head. “And what lifestyle was that?”
He smiled gently. “The kind that leads a man to ravish a lady he just met at the Donville Masquerade.”
She stilled for a moment, then he was happy to watch her expression relax. She laughed softly. “I cannot judge that too harshly.”
“I should hope not. But Ian does. He means well, I’m sure.” The words were said bitterly, but he spit them out regardless. “A few weeks ago, he cut me off. Said that I would have to settle down in order to continue receiving my inheritance. That I had three months to do so.”
Her lips parted. “He is forcing you to marry.”
“It was one option I could take to prove to him that I am settled, yes,” he said. “I heard your father was shopping his daughter’s hand. I selfishly saw it as a solution to my problem, without thinking of the lady in question. It was a devil’s bargain, for his part. But I see now, also for mine. And I…” He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Hannah.”
She pushed to her feet and walked away to the window again. She stood there motionless, and he watched her, uncertain at her reaction to his confession. Had he hurt her by telling her this tale? He didn’t like that idea. He didn’t want to hurt her, despite their short and rather desperate acquaintance.
She turned and there was a smile on her face. Something a tiny bit…wicked, and his cock twitched.
“Duncan,” she said breathlessly. “I think you and I might be able to help each other.”
He arched a brow. “Do you? I’m listening. As you know, mutually beneficial connections are my specialty.”
She blushed as he’d hoped she would, but did not turn from whatever she wished to say. “You and Ishouldmarry.”
He drew back. Of course that had been the plan from the start, but it was one thing to imagine it with some faceless, biddable heiress. Another to look at this lovely woman who had been writhing beneath him less than twenty-four hours before and have her say it.
