“I’m not tired,” she said, ready to escape. “I think I will go and freshen up.”
He propped himself on his elbow. “How did you sleep?”
Wonderfully. But she wasn’t going to admit to him that it was the best night of her entire life. Especially when she planned to retreat to her room as soon as possible. “I slept fine.”
“Good.” Nodding, he sat up, stretching his arms over his head as he let out a yawn. “Come back here.” He patted the seat beside him again.
She shook her head. “I really should be getting on with my day. I am a duchess, you know. Much to be done.” She forced a smile, and as she did so, his own faded from his face.
“Ah.” He rubbed a hand across his eyes, still waking up from his slumber. “I see.”
“It is nothing, really. I had only told Mrs. Powell that I would go over the details for dinner this week.”
“And that must be done now? What time is it?” He turned to look at the clock over the mantel.
Louisa could see it herself, and it was seven in the morning. They usually did not even leave their beds for breakfast until nearly ten.
He clutched the edge of the chaise, looking at the floor between his feet. “This is how it’s going to be, then?”
“We must eat, mustn’t we?” she asked, attempting to lighten the mood.
He shook his head, bracing his elbows on his knees as he cradled his brow. “I had thought that maybe I had convinced you. That maybe you would . . . let me in.” He sighed, scrubbing his face again before glancing up at her. “Why did I do that? I am a fool, apparently. A lovesick, hopeful fool.”
Lovesick. The word reverberated in her ears.
She swallowed, forcing her emotions back. “No, you aren’t a fool. I only need to get on with my day.”
“At seven in the morning?” He jerked a thumb toward the clock. “You are running, Louisa, and I should have known it was coming.”
“I’m not—”
He stood, walking over to her and stopping her words before she could even figure out what she wanted to say.
“Not what?” He stared down at her, his hair mussed and his shirt unbuttoned. Goodness, had she done that?
Her face flamed—and that flame flickered in her chest until she felt anger rise in its place. Robert knew she didn’t want that type of relationship, and now he was throwing it back at her as if she was to blame. He was getting what he wanted with little to no thought about her own desires.
“I’m only doing what I told you long ago. I am being your wife and attending to my duties.”
“Your duties? Blast your duties, Louisa!”
“Excuse me?” Her voice rose to match the burning within her. “That is why you married me, if you remember. You asked thatI do the duties of a duchess, and that is what we agreed upon. My heart was never to be on the table. I didn’t ask you to change your mind or what you wanted from me. You changed.” She shoved a finger at his chest. “You changed the rules, and I am not interested in the game you want to play.”
Robert’s face softened with a wince, and he looked at the floor. “I don’t know what happened when we married, but I know I would go to hell and back for you, Duchess.”
She felt her tether snap. “Stop calling me that!” She put her hands to her head, trying to settle herself. This was all wrong. Last night was a mistake. She could see that now. But at that moment, she had been tired. Tired of trying to barricade herself from him, tired from the long day walking the streets, tired of pretending she did not care about him. She now realized how stupid she had been, for she had the misconception that keeping a physical barrier between them would somehow keep her from falling in love. The kiss itself was not what had caused her heart to betray her. Rather, their kiss was a product of feelings she already had.
Louisa took a tremulous breath. “I wasn’t supposed to like you,” she said, tears threatening the backs of her eyes. “You were sullen and quiet and serious.”
“Am I not those things now?” He took a small step toward her.
“With others, yes. But when it is just the two of us—” Her breath hitched. “When it is just the two of us,” she began again, swallowing and controlling her voice more carefully, “you are so much more. You smile and laugh with me. You say and do the sweetest things, which I do not deserve.”
“And why do you feel you do not deserve them?”
She pressed her fingers to her eyes. “Because I do not want them.”
He took her hand, caressing it with his strong fingers. “Help me understand. Please. For right now, I simply cannot makesense of it. You love your family. You love yourdog,” he said, spitting out the word. “But you cannot love me?”
