it? If he gets a hold of you, you’ll have no choice but to marry him. He’s a duke. He can pretty much do whatever he wants.”
The reminder of the status she’d essentially thrown away was enough to have her taking another long swallow of the lovely amber liquid.
Warm spice. Heat in her veins. Why hadn’t she tried whisky before this?
She stared at the man devouring the tray of food that had been sent up. His muscles flexed beneath his shirt when he moved his arms. She glanced down at his hands—those hands that had fought off several men at once. A dazzling smile spread across her lips. “You’ll protect me. Besides, I would not consent.”
Stone stopped chewing and all but gaped at her. He blinked rapidly and then shook his head. “It wouldn’t matter.” He took another bite. “He’s a duke. An anvil priest isn’t about to go against his wishes.”
His somber expression assured her that he was telling her the truth.
He was trying to be stern, she realized, but he was also being… nice. He was injured, and he was tired, but he wasn’t rubbing her mistake in her face and he’d helped her wash her hair anyway. She frowned. His poor eye had mostly swollen shut and the cheek below it was already turning purple.
“You’re a good person, Stone Spencer.” Her mouth moved slower than she expected it to.
He topped off her glass and then tilted the bottle into his mouth, his sinewy throat moving as he swallowed.
A week ago, she would have found such manners annoying. But it would show poor manners to chastise someone who had saved her from a lifetime of marriage to an arrogant villain of a duke.
Truth be told, she didn’t know what she would have done if Westerley hadn’t sent him after her. “Sto-o-o-ne. Spensssssser.” She said his name through lips that had begun to feel numb.
“I may be a good person but not good enough.” He turned away, wiping his mouth with his shirtsleeve.
But that didn’t’ make sense. “Not good enough for who?” For me? He’d never cared one wit for her opinion before.
“Oh, him? Don’t worry about Mister Spencer.” He had raised his voice to a falsetto pitch. “He’s just my brother’s friend—a second son, mind you—Mister Spencer. Not even a lord.” She winced at the reminder. Even if It was a poor impression of her and even if she had been joking when she’d made the introduction.
But it had not been well done of her.
Before she could apologize, the floor shifted, causing her to grasp the table. Was the room darker than it had been a moment ago? The air had grown warmer, fuzzy… heavy.
“Do you want the chair?” Ironically, it was he who realized he was sitting in the presence of a lady.
“Oh, no. You keep it. You’re the one who’s injured.” Not wanting to sit on the bed in her soiled gown, she dropped to the floor at his feet. “My legs feel like melted chocolate. Does that always happen when you drink whisky? My brother never mentioned it.” She stared up at him, frowning. “I wouldn’t think such a marriage would be legal. I mean, how is that possible if the bride says she doesn’t… or she won’t? It certainly wouldn’t be fair. Why would a lady not be allowed to have a say in her future?”
“You—more than most—ought to realize the power a duke wields. The only way it wouldn’t be legal is if you were already married.” Stone downed another swallow, his firm lips wrapping around the mouth of the bottle. Lips that were a dusty pink and firm… She stared at him after he lowered it. His bottom lip was plumper than the top, which had the slightest cupid’s bow in the center. What would it feel like to kiss Stone Spencer?
She forced her gaze to return to the glass in her hand and then cleared her throat, which suddenly felt thicker than it had a moment before.
“It doesn’t burn as much now. No wonder Charley enjoys it so much. I honestly didn’t understand how a person could be so excited about seeing distilleries. I’ll have to try her American whiskey when I get home.” Unfortunately, thinking of her brother and home reminded her of the reparations she’d face when this was over.
That was, so long as she and Stone evaded Culpepper successfully.
“American whiskey is sweeter.” Stone’s voice broke into her thoughts.
“Culpepper couldn’t force me to marry him if I was already