Her hand froze on the doorknob. There it was, the word she’d been dreading. “You tried to forbid me something once before, Jasper, on the day of the shooting party at Basingstoke House. Do you remember?”
“Remember?” He let out a harsh laugh. “How could I forget? You shot me for it.”
No, she hadn’t. That shot had been an accident. What shehaddone was go on to do precisely as she’d intended from the start, which was to join the shooting party. And while it was true that she might better have listened to him in that one instance and remained behind, it hadn’t made her any fonder of the word “forbid.”
Not from anyone’s lips, but least of all his. “Yet knowing that, you still think it’s wise to attempt to forbid me something I want?”
“I wasn’t your husband then. I am now. Surely, you aren’t going to attempt to persuade me it makes no difference?”
Slowly, she turned to face him. “No, indeed. It makes all the difference.”
“Good.” He rose to his feet with the casual confidence of a man who considered the matter closed. “I’m pleased to find we both agree—”
“Agree? Oh, no, Your Grace. I’m afraid you misunderstand me. Have you forgotten that when you offered me your hand, you made it quite clear we would each pursue our own lives? Because I can assure you, I have not.”
“No, I haven’t forgotten, but that’s not what I—”
“You promised me freedom. I believe your exact words were that I’d enjoy a great deal more freedom as the Duchess of Montford than I ever could as plain Miss Thorne. Do you recall that?”
“I recall it, yes, but that’s not what this—”
“I took you at your word, Your Grace, and I intend to enjoy the freedoms I was promised when I agreed to become your duchess. Or do you mean to withdraw your promise now? Are you a man of your word, Jasper, or are you a liar?”
His jaw ticked, but he remained silent.
“Ah. I see how it is. When you spoke of freedoms, you meant only yourownfreedoms. You imagined you’d do exactly as you pleased, while I . . . what, Jasper? Sat about the townhouse and waited for you? What a pity you didn’t say so when you offered me your hand. Now, if you’ll pardon me, Your Grace—”
“Not quite yet, Prue.” He sauntered toward her, his eyes dark and his lips pressed into a tight line. Oh, he was angry, so angry, but she stood her ground as he got closer and closer, pressing her into the doorway, his hands coming up on either side of her face, caging her in. “Perhaps I haven’t made myself clear.”
She gazed up into his handsome face, her knees nearly buckling from the delicious scent of amber and orange blossom, but she wouldn’t back down in this. “On the contrary, Your Grace, you’ve made yourself perfectly clear. You think because you’re my husband now, you can forbid me whatever you wish.”
He caught a loose lock of her hair and tucked it back behind her ear, his fingers grazing her cheek, making her shiver. “That’s generally how it works, yes. You did promise obedience in your wedding vows, if you recall.”
“And you, Your Grace, promised to live in love and peace with your wife, but alas, there will be no peace between us if you attempt to curtail my freedoms.”
He gazed at her for a moment, a wry smile at the corners of his lips. “Such a willful, stubborn wife,” he murmured, dragging his fingers down her neck. He followed them with his lips, pressing a chain of light kisses from just under her chin to the hollow of her throat.
She caught her breath, grasping his shoulders to steady herself. “D-do you think to seduce a promise to stay away from Angelo’s from me, Your Grace?”
He leaned away from her, his eyebrows rising. “Is that what you think?” He dragged his thumb across her lower lip, his eyes darkening when she parted for him. “It’s nothing so diabolical as that. Perhaps I just want you, Prue. Perhaps I’m enamored of my willful, stubborn wife.”
If it hadn’t been for the way he’d turned away from her this morning, she might have believed him. Even a man as practiced at seduction as Jasper couldn’t feign such a dark, heated gaze, such ragged breaths, and . . . were his hands shaking?
But no, it couldn’t be a coincidence he was overcome with desire for hernow, when she’d just refused him the promise he sought. The timing was suspect, to say the least.
Still, even that might not have been enough to convince her he’d use his, er . . . masculine wiles to manipulate her, but this was what Jasperdid, wasn’t it? He charmed ladies, and he did it so well he was accustomed to always having his own way.
But not this time. Not withher. “I find that difficult to believe, Your Grace.”
“It’s the truth, Prue.” He caught her chin and turned her face up to his. “You may trust me, wife, when I say Iburnfor you.” He nuzzled the arch where her neck met her shoulder, then his mouth drifted to the sensitive skin behind her ear. “If I believed taking you to my bed would persuade you to give me your promise, I’d do so in a heartbeat.”
She squeezed her eyes closed, her fingertips digging into his shoulders. If anything could persuade her, it wasthis—the dizzying pleasure of his mouth on her skin, his tongue teasing, the bristle of his emerging beard tickling her neck. “Nothing can persuade me.”
“Is that a challenge, Your Grace?” He brushed a soft kiss over her lips, the warm drift of his breath a sweet caress over her heated skin. “It sounds like one.”
“Perhaps it is.” She tore her mouth from his. “What say you to a wager, Your Grace?”
“A wager?” He drew back, searching her face. “You can’t be serious.”
