Duke of Disrepute (Dukes of Distinction #3) - Alexa Aston Page 0,44
to look for a gentleman to be her husband, she wouldn’t have agreed to their arrangement. She already knew of his abominable reputation. A day without a story about the Duke of Disrepute in the scandal sheets was not a day at all. He would need to prove himself to her. That meant keeping his hands to himself.
Even if they longed to stroke her silky hair. Caress her curves. Show her exactly how pleasurable joining together could be. He suspected poor Ruthersby had muddled that up and Elise had no idea what making love was truly like. Weston very much looked forward to tutoring her in the art of love.
“Will any other guests be at Colebourne Hall?”
“Hmm. I hadn’t thought to ask,” he admitted. “It’s been a while since I’ve spent Christmas in Devon.”
Last Christmas, he had gone to three different women’s boudoirs.
“My sister was still up north, living with her in-laws,” he explained.
He couldn’t go into the nightmare that had been Sam’s life. “Now that she is nearby and wed to my closest friend, I hope to spend many holidays with her. I’d like to alternate hosting between Treadwell Manor and Colebourne Hall.”
She chuckled. “You’ll have to see if your duchess agrees to that plan.”
“Why wouldn’t she?” he asked, perplexed.
“The kind of woman you are interested in marrying is one who has a mind of her own, Weston,” she said.
He liked hearing his name on her lips. It sounded . . . right.
It would sound even better when she cried his name in the heat of an orgasm.
“I don’t see why she wouldn’t want to spend a holiday with my only sister and best friend.”
“She may have family of her own.”
“Then she can invite them to Treadwell Manor,” he said stubbornly. “A duke should be allowed to celebrate Christmas where he wants.” He knew Elise didn’t have any true family. It shouldn’t be a problem in the future.
“You sound like a petulant child,” she teased. “A duke should always get what he wants,” she whined.
He grinned. “If that is meant to be me, it’s a poor imitation.”
Elise laughed, full-throated and low. God, he wanted to kiss her so much.
“Very well. I agree that my future duchess will—and should—have a say as to where we celebrate Christmas. However, I must remind you, I plan for her to bear me numerous sons and daughters. She will want them at our home. Or next door, with all of their cousins. George and I grew up together. I expect his children and mine will become good friends. Play together. Learn to ride and hunt together. Even go off to school with one another. They’ll look out for each other.”
She sighed. “That sounds very nice. Though Joseph and Josiah are sweet boys, I doubt they’ll ever have much to do with Claire. I suppose it won’t matter. I’m going to be able to give her several brothers and sisters. At least, that is one of my requirements. You never did ask me what I wanted in a husband, Your Grace.”
“Weston,” he corrected.
“Weston,” she echoed, a trace of a smile playing about her lips.
“Well, tell me,” he urged. “I ought to know. It will help me as I conduct my search.”
“Children are a must. I have a great love for them and want to wed a man who also feels the same. And . . .” she hesitated a moment and then added, “I want him to accept Claire.”
“Claire is a delight. Any man would be fortunate to be her stepfather.”
Elise shook her head. “Not many men look kindly upon the offspring from a previous husband. I understand that it will be difficult for my husband to love Claire. I only hope that he will treat her kindly and be fond of her.”
Weston could tell her that he was almost as mad for Claire as he was her mother but chose to keep that tidbit to himself.
“What else?” he asked.
“I think I will borrow from your list.”
“How so?”
“I would also choose to wed a man who is intelligent. Ruthersby was. I liked that about him. He didn’t see me as merely ornamental.”
He raised one brow. “You are very pretty, Elise. I’d even say beautiful.”
The blush bloomed on her cheeks. “That’s all well and good but I am more than my looks.”
You certainly are.
“And I think I would like . . .” Her blush deepened. “I would like a man who could teach me how to kiss.”
Weston disguised his shock. “Ruthersby didn’t kiss you?”