Page 17 of Stolen and Seduced By the Duke

He crossed the room and stopped near the fireplace, one hand resting upon the mantel. The afternoon light fell across his black hair and severe features, emphasising the extraordinary contrast of his eyes. Margaret hated that she noticed such things even now. She hated even more that he had the power to unsettle her.

"As I see it," Pierce continued, "you have two choices. You may return to Harrowby and allow him to pursue his claim, or you may marry me."

Margaret let out a disbelieving laugh. "And you imagine that choosing you as the lesser of two evils will make you happy?"

"No, I do not," he said. "But no one said anything about happiness. We are talking about marriage after all."

The severity of the answer caught her off guard. "You think marriage to be an unhappiness?" she asked.

He was quiet and did not answer. He simply proceeded to speak of the overall agreement.

"I am not doing this agreement for myself," he said, his voice quieter. "Nor am I doing it expecting love. If the decision were entirely mine, I would never marry again."

Margaret studied him. There was something in his expression that stopped her from making the witty reply already forming upon her tongue. "Then why?"

His jaw tightened. "I have someone to protect now."

She waited, but he said nothing further. "Who?"

Pierce looked towards the window.

"Your Grace," Margaret pressed, "if you expect me to marry you, I believe I am entitled to know what precisely I am marrying into."

His gaze returned to hers. "I have a son."

Margaret blinked.

"A son?" she repeated.

"He is one year old."

The library seemed suddenly very quiet.

Pierce continued, "I need a mother to help raise him."

Margaret's thoughts stumbled over themselves.

A child. A baby. A tiny, innocent person who has somehow become the center of this astonishing arrangement.

"Do you mean…" She hesitated, watching his face carefully. "A son with your late wife?"

Pierce's expression hardened, and Margaret instantly sensed that she had stepped into dangerous territory.

"You do not need to know anything else for now," he replied. "Only that I have a boy who needs a mother, and I need a duchess who can care for him."

Margaret stared at him.

Of all the things I had imagined Pierce might demand, I had never considered this. A mother? Me?

How could she refuse an innocent child? The thought of little baby, whoever he was, stirred something painfully tender within her. She had always been sensitive to those who could not defend themselves, and a one-year-old boy certainly could not be expected to navigate the peculiar disasters created by adults.

More importantly, Geoffrey waited at the end of the other path. The very thought of becoming his wife made her stomach turn.

Perhaps there were worse things than becoming a duchess.

Margaret drew a slow breath. "I had no idea I would become a mother when I went to your ball that night."

Pierce watched her closely.