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Bea dropped a curtsy. “Good evening, Lady Regina.”

Regina stood, head high, shoulders back. Her mouth opened but self-preservation prevailed. She wheeled about and silently left the room.

“Do you think that she will ever speak to me again?” Bea asked, not caring much. In fact, that sounded like an excellent solution to the impending problem of family Christmases.

Jonah shook his head. “Perhaps, perhaps not.” He caught up her hands. “I will not allow her to destroy my family. I promise you that.”

Bea gave him a beaming smile. She was without fear; she had a medieval warrior to protect her. Then she asked, “Jonah, did you hear the clock chime the half hour?”

A moment of silence, then he shook his head. “I’m deaf in the left ear from cannon fire.”

Jonah met Bea’s eyes with an effort. His gut tensed, waiting to see if she was as appalled as Regina had been by his hearing loss.

Her brows creased. “Is it better if I stand to this side?” She moved to his right.

“As long as I can see you, I can hear you. But if sound comes from behind, especially from the left, I miss it.”

“I’m sorry,” Bea said. She raised a hand, paused for a moment, and then put it on his chest.

Over his heart, Jonah noted.

Her light touch burned through his waistcoat and shirt.

“Thank you for your service to our country.”

In recent years, Jonah had discovered that the world could be a very quiet place. At the moment, nothing existed for him but Bea’s voice.

“In the North of England, we were terrified that Napoleon would invade,” she continued. “We are so grateful to you, to all of you, who went to war and protected our shores.”

“My regiment is still there, but I had to leave them.” The truth fell from his lips. “My father died, so I had to come home, but even if that hadn’t happened, without excellent hearing, I’m a danger to them.”

Her fingers pressed lightly against his chest. “It must have been painful to leave.”

“I know you don’t want to marry a tall man, but what about a deaf one?” Jonah came out with it. “The doctors think there’s a fair chance that I will lose hearing in my right ear as well.”

Bea smiled. “You’ll have to get used to carrying around foolscap so you can issue your dukish commands in written form, won’t you?”

That smile in her eyes, on her lips, was genuine.

Regina had said … Jonah had discounted what his sister said, of course. But her hysterical insistence that he could not tell anyone about his partial—or impending—deafness had stuck to him in a greasy film.

“If I’m close enough to someone, in good light, I can read their lips.” His voice rumbled from his chest. “I cannot manage the House of Lords. I can never take up my seat.”

He had never seduced anyone. He’d never had to. Women fell into his arms if he so much as raised an eyebrow. Bea’s lips were moving, but all he took in was her: a woman he wanted with a bone-deep certainty. His hands were trembling to shape her curves. He wanted to snatch her into his arms. He wanted to talk to her every day for the rest of his life.

If he caught her up into his arms, she might say “no,” in which case, he’d have to put her down. Yet the expression in her eyes was desirous.

She didn’t care that he might be deaf. She didn’t care that he was a duke, either.

He didn’t stop himself; he wrapped his arms around her, one hand on her back, the other cupping her rear and pulled her up so her breasts pressed against his chest.

Bea didn’t say no; she cried, “Jonah!” with a laughing question behind the word.

The way she would say his name a million times over the years of their marriage.

“If I hold you like this, I can hear everything you say.” He lightly ghosted his lips over hers. “May I kiss you, Bea. Please?”

That was her cue to refuse, but she merely looked at him, eyes wide, her lips parted slightly.