Elara yelped and jumped as she heard the Duke’s deep voice cut through the still night air. She turned quickly and found him standing a few feet away, his arms folded across the loose fit of a white nightshirt. In the dim light, she could see he had a smirk on his lips, and one of his brows was arched as if he were greatly amused by what he caught her doing.
“I... So what if I do?” she retorted, raising her chin defiantly. “It is not as if I have to suffer their rejection.”
He chortled and let his hands fall to his sides as he stepped closer.
“I have offended you,” he stated.
“I would have to care about your opinion to be offended by you,Your Grace,”she answered testily, turning her back to him.
“So you do not care for my opinion at all?” he asked.
“Not a bit,” she retorted, shrugging one shoulder and tossing her hair back with attitude.
“I see,” he mused. “And you appearing before me naked the other night. That was, I assume, your attempt to show me that you did not care about my opinion?”
Elara’s cheeks flushed as she whirled to face him.
“That was a mistake!” she snapped. “Poor advice from my mother. I assure you it will not happen again.”
“A shame,” he quipped, his lips tugging into a smile.
That lilt of humor, though, only worsened Elara’s mood, and she scowled at him.
“I do not understand you,” she confessed.
“I am equally as confused by you,” the Duke admitted, taking a step toward her as his smirk faded. “But that... revealing performance of yours made me realize that we should discuss the terms of this marriage, as it seems we are not on the same page.”
“At least we can agree on that,” Elara retorted.
The Duke chortled, then moved to her side. Together, they began walking through the gardens.
“It is not that I am ungrateful or unimpressed by your little... show the other night,” he said after a moment. Elara hated how quickly she blushed at his words. “Quite the contrary.”
“You have a strange way of showing how you feel, then, Your Grace,” Elara said bitterly.
“It was circumstance, not emotion, that forced us into this marriage,” he went on, his deep voice surprisingly calm despite her open bitterness toward him. “We do not love each other. Neither truly chose this union, so I do not see why we should consummate it.”
Elara felt a smidge of her anger fade at his words. At least he was not demanding things of her. That was a horrid tale she had heard far too often about newlyweds who were arranged rather than chosen.
“That is surprisingly reasonable of you,” she begrudgingly admitted.
The Duke’s chuckle was deep and raspy, making her stomach flip despite her annoyance with him.
“If you allow me, you will see that I can be reasonable,” he replied, his lips lifting in a small smile as he looked at her. “We are stuck with one another for now, but that does not mean we must make one another miserable. Or to suffer each other’s presence.”
“Not even for an heir?” Elara asked. “Surely you will require one. You are the Duke of Ashworth, after all, and you must have a son to pass the title to.”
The Duke shrugged as they walked together.
“I already have an heir. The baby you heard crying. His name is William,” he replied.
Elara stopped walking as her brows flew up. He as well stopped walking and turned to her with a curious look.
“You cannot claim an illegitimate child as your heir,” Elara said matter-of-factly, crossing her arms. “It is simply not done. Whatever attachment you may have formed with—”
“I would advise you to choose your next words very carefully,” he said quietly. “William is my nephew.”
“Nephew?” she asked. “The baby is yournephew?I thought...”
