Camelia’s cheeks flushed. “If you call freedom a reward, then what do you mean by ‘lessons’?”
His eyes darkened with challenge. “What do you believe it means, Camelia?”
She wished she knew the answers, but she hadn’t a clue.
“I do not understand it. You say it’s a lesson, and yet it feels…”
“Good?”
“Yes.”
She shifted in her armchair, her robe slipping further, fully revealing the curve of her shoulders. The Duke cleared his throat as he studied her.
Just a look from him makes me burn with desire.
“Have you truly come to argue about my schedules again?”
“Perhaps. Or maybe I was just seeking a book to escape them. Your rules are relentless.”
“Relentless?” He arched an eyebrow. “They bring order, Camelia. Something you could use.”
She tilted her head. “You sound like a general, not a husband. Tell me, do you ever bend, or is it all straight lines for you?”
He leaned forward, his voice dropping conspiringly. “Do you care to test how far you would bend?”
Camelia’s breath hitched. Her eyes traveled from his inviting lips to his sea-blue eyes. “What is that scar on your shoulder?”
“It’s nothing.” He sat back in his seat and covered the scar.
“What happened?”
“It was a duel that went wrong.”
“When?”
“A long time ago.”
“Is this what Lord Montague was talking about when he confronted you? Did he do it?”
The Duke’s expression shuttered, his eyes turning cold. “That’s not your concern, Camelia. Focus your energy on Pamela, not my past.”
Her heart sank, but she pressed on. “I know that Pamela is the reason why I’m here, but she’s so distant. She barely speaks at breakfast, despite my efforts, and your secrets might be the cause—at least in part. Tell me something,anything, so I can understand you both.”
“Enough,” the Duke growled. “Pamela needs your attention, not me. Your curiosity about old wounds will not fix anything. Do your duty or else, Duchess.”
“Or else what? You’ll bind me again?”
“Do not tempt me!”
Camelia rose, her frustration flaring. “I’m trying, Raph, but you are not giving much time or freedom. Pamela does not need another taskmaster. And you—you hide behind scars of your past and orders. Why won’t you let me in?”
“My past is not your concern. Focus on Pamela, as I’ve ordered.”
She stepped closer, her eyes narrowing as she looked down at him. Raph leaned back against the cushion, peering up at her with a deep frown, and she fought the urge to climb onto his lap and feel his manhood press against her.
“I’m not one of your footmen. I’m your wife. Why do you insist on keeping everyone at arm’s length?”
“You think you can unravel me with questions?” he said, his voice a dangerous purr. “Many women tried and failed.”
