Mistletoe and Mayhem - Cheryl Bolen Page 0,364

am looking for in a wife.”

An image in his head? Wasn’t that a lie? She’d found his list. Now her assuredness was under threat again. “So, no list on parchment?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Why would I need to write it down?”

Liar. “What is it you are looking for? Or why me?”

He dismounted and tethered his horse, reaching up to help her down. With no thought, she fell into his arms and couldn’t hide the shudder through her limbs as he purposely let her slide down his muscled chest.

When her feet finally found the ground, he leaned down and whispered in her ear, “Mainly it’s because my thoughts, when I look at you, are not gentlemanly or honorable. And given your breeding and family connections, that makes you more than perfect for the role of my duchess.”

His warm breath in the cold air wasn’t the only thing causing a mist over her eyes. Goodness gracious, why did he affect her so? She wished he didn’t affect her because marriage was for life and surely it should be built on more than mere physical attraction? What happens when she grew older? If there is only physical attraction, what happens when beauty fades?

“There are many beautiful young ladies with more than suitable family connections,” and she pushed out of his arms and walked towards the croft with her mind whirling.

When she heard the loud sigh she swung round to face him. “I know I should be flattered. I know I should view your intentions as every woman’s dream. But… ” She turned away and cursing into the wind, she stamped her foot. How impossible to make a man, let alone a duke, understand what a woman, well, a woman like her, really wanted.

Love.

All her life she’d been consumed by Blade. Each time he’d visited, or when her family visited London and she saw him at family gatherings or balls, she’d not had eyes for any other man. Now here he was. About to give her what she’d always wanted. For some reason she could not bring herself to say yes.

He’d have his work as the duke, and all the obligations that came with his position, House of Lords, governmental issues, tenants, family—she’d hardly see him if her father was anything to go by. She wanted to matter. For once in her life, she wanted to matter. Her chest heaved with the power of the emotions boiling below the surface. She should be the perfect young lady and not let her emotions overcome her, but marriage, for a woman, was a serious business. There was no escape once wed. The wrong man and her life would be over.

Was Blade the right man for her?

To think he’d simply made a list and her name came out on top was no basis for the marriage she wanted.

She sensed him at her back. He didn’t touch her, but his presence was all-consuming.

“What are you afraid of?”

His question caught her by surprise. How had he guessed she was afraid?

She turned and his arms wrapped around her. She leaned into his chest. “I hate that you’ve organized this betrothal without even pretending to court me. It’s as if I should be grateful and yet,” and she pushed out of his warm hold, “I’m a catch too.”

“I know you are. You’re beautiful.” And he ran a gloved finger down her cheek.

She looked into his eyes and reminded herself to stay strong. “I could have married this year. What would you have felt if I had?”

“I don’t think I would have liked that.”

“Then where were you when I had my come out?”

He looked away. His silence was unnerving. So she spoke, anger goading her to reveal more than she wanted to. “Turning up this Christmas, with betrothal in mind, makes me feel like an afterthought. And I refuse to be an afterthought for any man.”

With that, she walked to Brandy, her gelding, and swung up into the saddle.

He didn’t stop her.

“When you can tell me why you want to marry me now, and give me a reason why I should consider marriage to you outside of duty and family, I’ll consider your offer.” She walked Brandy past him and gave one last comment. “I’m not a woman who marries any man who has to make a list to know what he requires in a wife.”

With that she kicked her horse and took off at a gallop, his words muffled by the wind, but she thought he’d said, “What list?”

Chapter Four

Harriet didn’t have