The Duke Effect (The Rogue Files #7) - Sophie Jordan Page 0,63
leaving tomorrow. That had not changed. More than ever, she felt compelled to put distance between herself and him.
Although the idea of departing prompted a pang in the center of her chest. She resisted the urge to rub her fingers there, to ease the ache.
“Indeed,” she murmured. “Except I am departing tomorrow. Perhaps I can leave you with some of the tonic.” Of course it was unlike her to leave an experimental tonic in the hands of someone else, but she felt an overwhelming urge to flee. The exception could be made this once.
He stared at her with a hooded gaze, his dark eyes unreadable.
A long moment passed and then he replied. “I cannot believe you scaled balconies to reach my room.”
“What choice did I have? You would not open the door to me.”
“I don’t think you should leave on the morrow,” he said suddenly, returning to the matter of her declared intent to leave, proving that he had in fact heard her.
Her chest tightened and she grew a little breathless. “Why is that?” She searched his face, longing . . . longing for something.
She was not sure what she hoped to see, but she recognized the emotion squeezing her chest. The hope that encircled her like an invisible band.
He nodded slowly, resolutely. “I’ll not shirk my responsibility.”
Her smile turned unsure, wobbly on her lips. She was not certain what he meant. What responsibility did he speak of? Curing the duchess? From the first moment she met him he had claimed that as his duty. She moistened her lips. “What do you mean? You’ve proven yourself to be a very responsible gentleman. Unfailingly so.”
“I will do right by you.”
Her smile slipped altogether, uneasiness sinking through her, the invisible band around her loosening as the hope faded away. “Right by me?” She shook her head. “I don’t understand your meaning.”
He waved a hand, encompassing himself and her. “I do not make it a habit to ruin well-heeled ladies.”
Her stomach twisted and sank. Now she understood what he meant. He offered marriage. If one could call it an offer. It felt more like a stinging slap.
“I am not ruined,” she said tightly between clenched teeth. Oh, how she despised that expression and all its antiquated implications. She lunged from the bed and glared down at him in his naked glory, trying not to let the sight of him thusly dazzle her.
“A gentleman does not dally with a lady and then not offer for her hand. It must be done. Honor demands it. You’re under my protection whilst here and I abused that trust—”
She snorted. “Oh, spare me your noble altruism. I am not ruined like some bit of fruit that has gone sour and spoiled. I do not require saving. Any more than I require a husband.”
His hands bobbed on the air as though attempting to mollify her. As though she were some wild steed in need of quieting. “Now, Nora. Be reasonable.”
She sucked in a hissing breath. “Do not tell me to be reasonable. That’s what men always say to women they cannot control.”
His gaze widened and he looked her up and down appraisingly, his obsidian eyes staring at her as though he could see directly through her garments to the hollows and swells of her flesh beneath. “I would not be so foolish as to think you could ever be controlled, Nora.”
Something stirred in her belly at his admiring look, at his deep voice and smoldering examination of her—a rekindling of the fire that had not yet been extinguished.
He tsked his tongue and continued, “Nor would I ever try to control you, Nora. That would be akin to sacrilege.” His eyes swept over her again and it was tempting to forget that this man had insulted her with a backhanded proposal of matrimony.
And yet forget she would not.
She might not have been a girl with a head full of romantic dreams, but she knew how one ought to be proposed to and this was most assuredly not it.
She breathed in, fighting to reclaim her composure. “You had a problem tonight, sir, which I created, admittedly, so I corrected the situation for you. No harm done. You are not bound to me. You need not give up the elegant Lady Elise and saddle yourself with the likes of me. That particular shame is not one you must endure.” If her voice sounded cutting, she was glad for it. Let him feel every bit of her indignation.