A short time later, after the maid had returned with a strong peppermint concoction, Genevieve had to admit that it had helped somewhat. She was able to take a breath without feeling as though she needed to rush for the chamber pot.
However, that all changed when it was announced that her affianced was downstairs. She took several bracing breaths and told herself that there was nothing to fear. He was just a man with a title. He wasn’t so different from her father who would someday, inherit the same. Just because they were getting married in three weeks didn’t mean she wouldn’t have time to get used to the idea.
She exhaled steadily. Thank goodness for banns.
Genevieve headed downstairs in another gown of light pink. When she entered the parlor, the duke and duchess were conspicuously absent. The only one present was Argyle.
Cortland, she mentally corrected herself. She tried to picture calling him that and couldn’t quite picture it.
“Dare I ask what the reason for your sudden frown is? Surely it wasn’t the flowers I sent?”
She blinked. “Not at all. They are very beautiful. I suppose I was just trying to get used to calling you by your given name.”
“It’s Cortland,” he said dryly. “Go ahead and try it out. You might as well get used to it. You’ll be screaming it soon enough.”
Genevieve opened her mouth but found it as dry as dust. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Cortland.”
He closed his eyes, as if savoring the sound. “Intoxicating.” He opened his eyes and pierced her with that same dark, promising stare. “Genevieve.” He lifted a brow and walked closer to her. “Or perhaps you would prefer Vivy?”
He paused directly in front of her. “Either is fine.”
“Good.” He smiled, and then drew her closer to him. “This time tomorrow, I won’t have to ask permission to kiss you anymore.”
Genevieve bristled at that. “Pardon me? Whether we are husband and wife or not, you will need to coerce me into your bed.”
His eyes sparkled. “Oh, I intend to. Tomorrow can’t get here soon enough.”
Blinking in surprise, she had to speak up. “Pardon? We surely won’t wed until the banns are properly read.”
“Not really.” He patted his jacket. “I was granted a special license just a few hours ago, so you had better prepare yourself to be called the Duchess of Argyle sooner rather than later, because in less than twenty-four hours, you will be mine.”
Chapter 7
For an instant, Cortland wondered if she might fall at his feet, and not in the good way. She paled considerably, but surely she couldn’t have been that surprised?
“I have taken the liberty of inviting your family to the wedding breakfast and—”
“What?” Ah, that was better. The color rushed back to her cheeks as her ire was sparked. “I didn’t give you leave to do that.”
“I’m to be your husband,” he pointed out.
“But you aren’t yet,” she said. “Until the vows are spoken, I would like to think that I still have a bit of say when it comes to my parents and siblings. Especially when it comes to the fact I’m to be married.”
Cortland finally paused. She appeared to be truly upset. He sobered his tone. “Forgive me. I was merely trying to get word to them as swiftly as possible.”
Thankfully, she seemed to accept his apology, as her face softened slightly. “I understand you were doing what you thought was best. But I am not a hapless debutante who needs proper direction. I have been out in society for some time now, and before that, I was schooled to be the wife of an aristocrat. I can hold my own when necessary.”
“I don’t doubt that you can. In truth, I’m eager to see all that you can master.”
Her cheeks colored slightly and although he used to despise blushing females, he found that, on her, a blush was rather… quaint. He wondered if she turned that delightful pink all over her body.
An overwhelming desire to kiss her struck him, but he couldn’t do it in the middle of the parlor. Even if they were as good as wed at this point, they weren’t yet, and no doubt the Duchess of Cranbrook would frown upon such forward behavior. “Take a walk in the gardens with me.”
She eyed him warily, as if understanding the reasons for his request. “Why?”
He held out his arm. “Don’t make me ask you twice.”
Her lips twitched, her eyes narrowing, as if her stubborn nature and her curiosity were at war with one another. Finally, she threaded her arm through his. He offered her a broad grin of approval, and his breath caught when he looked into her fathomless, hazel eyes. He realized now how wrong he’d been to put such an unusual shade in the same category as that of her grandfather. She had a uniqueness all her own.
