A Duke by Any Other Name by Grace Burrowes Page 0,124

his neckcloth and piled it with his cravat pin and ring on the vanity. “Our situation will be complicated. We cannot abandon Robert, but he must make his own way. My family will try to meddle.”

Our situation. How Nathaniel loved the sound of that.

Next, she started on the buttons of his evening coat, which was difficult when he knelt before her, so he stood and offered her a hand.

“I was hoping the Wentworth family would add their support to Mama’s efforts when it comes to managing the gossip. Robert should eventually present himself at court, there are writs to sort out, letters patent that might require re-issuance. His Grace of Walden mentioned an acquaintance at the College of Arms who could be helpful.”

None of which Nathaniel cared two groats about at the moment. He was in Althea’s bedroom, her hand in his, and she was apparently undaunted by all that lay ahead. Truly, he had given his heart to the right woman.

Althea rose and looped her arms around Nathaniel’s waist. “This will be challenging, to navigate the whispers, deal with family, and aid Robert.”

Her embrace wasn’t seductive so much as weary, which Nathaniel could well understand. “I welcome the challenge, Althea, provided you welcome it too. You were right that the deception had served its purpose, and right that Robert was capable of more. So am I. I am capable of loving both you and my brother, and I want more too.”

She sighed, relaxing against him. “More?”

“My mother’s company at frequent intervals. The occasional winter spent someplace other than Yorkshire. Mostly, though, I want you, and I am willing to beg you for the honor of your hand in marriage.” He prepared to go down on one knee again, but Althea stopped him.

“Beg me, Nathaniel? Beg me for the honor of my hand?”

“I’m certainly not going to beg any other woman for that honor.”

“But beg me, Nathaniel?”

He’d bewildered his lady and put a touch of wariness back in her eyes. An explanation was in order—a brief explanation.

“My late father was so afflicted with pride that he refused to allow even his wife to know of his illness. He was so worried about what the world would think of him that the welfare of his own young son was sacrificed to his arrogance. I could have become him, Althea. Organizing my strange little fiefdom to suit my narrow version of order, telling myself the whole arrangement was done for the benefit of others, when in fact, I was simply being a martinet. I never was the Duke of Rothhaven, nor do I wish to be that man. I am Lord Nathaniel Rothmere, and not too proud to beg for what really matters.”

Althea bundled close. “You need not beg me for the heart I have already given you. I have puzzled out that when a child has to beg for food, any shame attaches to those who pretend not to see her or those who scorn to help her. When a well-established hostess must be begged for common courtesies, so too is she the party deserving of shame. I do have a few demands of you.”

“Anything, provided we can get into that bed in the next five minutes.”

“I want circulating schools in the slums, I want goats to go with my pigs, for goats give milk that can be made into cheese and butter but they don’t require half the grazing a cow does. Goats can live on alley weeds and table scraps. I want—”

Nathaniel kissed her, because she wanted all good things, and because he wanted her. “You want?”

Her smile was slow and sweet, then a bit naughty. “To take you to bed.”

Thank God. “I intend to court you properly for all the world to see.”

She slid his coat from his shoulders. “Must you?”

“For the three weeks necessary to cry the banns, I will be a pattern card of swainly devotion. I will walk you home from services, endure meals with your bothersome family and even be somewhat polite to Lord Stephen, drive out with you…”

His waistcoat went next, casually draped over her vanity stool. “You were saying, my lord?”

“Something about making passionate love until the sun comes up.”

“That’s in a mere hour or two.”

He let her pull his shirt over his head, then eased her dressing gown off. “We won’t have an easy time of it, Althea, not at first.”

“I don’t want easy. I want honest and meaningful, and I want you.”

“We are in accord.”

“Let’s be in accord in bed,

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