How dare he?
She lifted her chin, meeting his gaze with equal coldness. “And what of your protection? You speak of restraint, yet you shieldedme from ruin. Is that not a form of care? And is this marriage not public proof of it?”
The Duke’s lips curled into a faint smirk. “Do you think it is, Duchess?”
Camelia pretended as if his words had not stung her.
“I do not believe you care for anyone except Pamela,” she shot back.
“And you are right.”
“Of course, I am.”
“But your decisions were wrong, and that is why you are here now. Married to me. Trembling before me and pretending I wouldn’t notice. I did not protect you; this marriage is simply convenient to me as it is convenient to you.”
“How is it convenient to me?” she sneered.
“There’s nothing to worry about anymore. No debt to repay, no whispers about you as a spinster, and no Lord Montague coming after your sisters. You have a duke’s protection, and you have freedom. It could have turned out differently for you if you had run into the wrong gentleman that night, Camelia.” The Duke’s voice dripped with warning.
Camelia’s cheeks warmed, but she would not be cowed. “You may have rescued me from ruin, Your Grace, but a woman needs more from her husband than mere safeguarding. Affection, partnership and… things of the heart!”
The Duke frowned, a dark glint in his eyes. “Affection? Partnership? You’re being rather suggestive,Duchess, when we’ve only left the altar minutes ago. Are you that eager for more already?”
She felt her face flush and her pulse quicken at his insinuation. “You’re twisting my words! You’re the only one who has me feeling so… worked up… with your brooding stares and commanding tone. It’s maddening!”
The Duke stepped closer to her, his voice dropping to a husky murmur. “During your training, you’ll learn to restrain those thoughts and wild instincts in our bedroom. Outside of it, you’ll behave with the propriety befitting a duchess.”
Camelia’s breath hitched, her eyes widening at the word ‘training.’ Indignation and an unwelcome thrill surged through her.
“Training? Like I’m some unruly pup? You’re the one crossing the lines of propriety right now, speaking of bedrooms and restraints mere steps from our wedding guests!”
His eyes darkened. “Propriety can no longer stand in our way now; you are my wife.”
Camelia backed away from him, from his allure. “Iwill decide when…thatwould take place.” She crossed her arms over her chest.
“And what is that,exactly?” he asked with a sly smirk.
“You know exactly what I am talking about!”
“Enlighten me.”
“Whatever happened in your carriage the other night!” she hissed.
The Duke chuckled darkly, before stalking towards her, closing the distance between them. “I make the rules, Camelia. But I will respect your decision. You may as well deny it now, but I’ll have you begging for more, just as you did after a mere kiss.”
She opened her mouth to retort, but then paused. He looked dangerous, his eyes cold and his lips warm and inviting. She had to clear her head, so she decided to ask him a question that had been niggling at her for a while.
“If you feel entitled to my body, now that we’re married, then I am entitled to some answers.”
“Answers to what questions?”
“I’d like to know what the connection is between you and Lord Montague. You two seem entangled in something from the past.”
The Duke’s expression hardened instantly. “Our connection goes way back, and it’s not a pleasant one. I won’t discuss it further. Not today.”
Camelia sighed, sensing the wall he had erected. “Very well, but secrets have a way of surfacing, Your Grace.”
“There is nothing more that you need to know.” He offered his arm again, his tone final. “Come. The wedding breakfast awaits.”
