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Lifting her chin, he searched her eyes then captured her mouth in a searing kiss. He’d longed to kiss her again ever since that day when they’d been riding. She relaxed in his arms and twined her arms about his neck.

At his gentle prodding, she opened her mouth to him, and Evan swept his tongue inside the sweet cavern. She tasted of ginger and tea, and her subtle fragrance—lilacs and lilies—wrapped around him, magnifying the heady sensations thrumming through him.

“Sophronie,” he groaned, pulling away. “I want to ken ye as a real husband, but I willna until ye are willin’.”

She drew away, confusion shining in her eyes. Shaking her head, she stood. “I cannot. We’d be tied together for the rest of our lives if I do as you bid.”

“Would that be so bad, lass?” He reached his hand out and brushed a knuckle over her silken cheek.

“Not for you,” she snapped. “You have what you were after. I, on the other hand, have been denied my choice of a husband.”

“Nae matter what ye believe, until yer father approached me, I’d never considered a match between us.” That wasn’t entirely true. After their kiss, he’d given the notion a full sixty seconds of contemplation before discarding it as insane. Why would he marry a woman who vexed the hell out of him most of the time?

He refrained from saying that to the spitfire sitting beside him, however.

She spread her hands apart, heartache and betrayal awash in her azure eyes. “Don’t you understand, Evan? No matter how long we are married, I shall always believe I was merely the means to an end. As a person, I had no value except what I brought to the union—my father’s fortune.”

Tired of being made to feel the villain when his primary intention had been to protect her at great detriment to his personal wishes, Evan made a harsh sound in his throat.

“If I’d wanted to wed an heiress, I needn’t have waited for ye, Sophronie. Leah Wesleyan has been willin’ for several years.” Anger at himself and Sophronie sizzled through his blood. He’d sacrificed his chance at marrying for love too, but she conveniently placed all of the blame at his feet.

“What’s more, Leah is Scots and as refined a lady as can be found in England. We were far more well-matched than ye and I. Regardless, I chose to honor the wishes of a dyin’ man whom I admired and respected because his greatest concern was for yer future.”

Lips parted, Sophronie stared at him, her eyes alarmingly blue in her ashen face. She slowly rose, her movements as precise and stiff as a woman five decades older.

“You do realize, Evan, that you’ve just confirmed that you find me inferior in every way to a scheming, devious murderess.”

Hell’s bells.

He had, and that hadn’t been his intent at all.

She closed her eyes, the sweep of her lashes dark against her pale cheeks. She opened her eyes, resignation and pain shining in their depths, and Evan would’ve done anything to erase the anguish from her features.

“This marriage was a colossal mistake.” Her lower lip quavered, but she summoned control. “For both of our sakes, I shall not wait a year to have it annulled.”

Shite.

She sucked in a ragged breath, her voice a mere thread of sound. “I want to return to Virginia. I want to see my horse, who I miss almost as much as Papa. I want my old life back with all of its imperfections and flaws, Evan.” A single crystalline droplet made a path down her cheek. “Most of all, I don’t want to be a duchess.”

She presented her back and swept toward the entrance.

“Sophronie, wait.” Christ, he shouldn’t have lost his temper. “Ye cannot request an annulment yet. Yer father’s will is very clear. Ye willna have access to yer portion of his estate should the marriage end before the one-year term.”

She half-turned, her features ravaged with hurt and remorse. “Unlike you, Evan, I would rather give up a fortune than be trapped in a loveless marriage. I’m returning to Virginia at the first opportunity.”

“I willna permit it.” When she calmed down, she’d see reason. Sophronie was a sensible woman.

“How do you plan on stopping me? Make me a prisoner?” With that, she swept from the room.

Nae, not a prisoner, but he could make it impossible for her to leave. She’d underestimated a husband’s influence and power. She might be ready to give up on their marriage after less than a week, but Evan was not.