Scoundrel of My Heart (Once Upon a Dukedom #1) - Lorraine Heath Page 0,89
of it?”
“All the trouble you went to?” She scrambled out of the bed, balled up her hands, and glared at him. His fury was now hers. “What have you done? Did you make another wager that he would indeed marry me?”
“Don’t be absurd.”
With no conviction in his tone, she rather feared that he’d done exactly that. “Then, why are you so concerned with my marrying him?”
“This is exactly why I left the cottage. Because I knew I’d give in to temptation and have you. And you would mistake passion for love and latch on to this ridiculous notion that there could be more between us. Do you know what you would lose if you married me? Other than the obvious: your inheritance? You would lose Society. No more dinners. No more balls. No more being called upon.”
“Althea’s family welcomed you.”
“Because we are now related. But the rest of those who presently surround you? They want nothing to do with me. I know their secrets, and they know I know them. And those who come here? Their visits are clandestine. They’re not proud to be seen here. They’re not proud of what they’re doing. They know what this place encourages. What I encourage. They’re not going to welcome a man such as me into their homes. And they won’t welcome you if you’re at my side.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do know that.” He shook his head. “But it’s all moot, sweetheart. Because the shackles of marriage are not for me. They never have been. You asked for one night. That’s all I’m willing to give you. You fell into the trappings of this place. It’s all only fantasy. It’s time you go back to your duke.”
She stood before him in all her splendor, trembling with her righteous indignation. He could see the various spots where his stubble had abraded her delicate skin. He could see the fading blush that their shared passions had brought to the fore.
Could see the hurt and disbelief in her eyes, and the sight flayed his heart.
But he couldn’t have her giving up her dreams for him.
She didn’t know what it was to be cast out. How it battered and bruised. For her, it would be so much worse, because she’d been embraced by the Society that would turn against her. It would hurt, would devastate her. Eventually she would resent what being with him cost her.
He wouldn’t be responsible for any of that befalling her. He wouldn’t see her embarrassed, mortified, or shamed.
“I thought you’d changed.” She jerked on her undergarments. “But you’re still a scapegrace, a scoundrel.”
“I will always be. It suits me.” Even if at the moment it was tearing him up inside. Shredding his soul, inviting him into hell.
She stepped into her gown, brought it up. He stepped forward to help with the lacings. Her glare stopped him cold. “I don’t require your assistance. I don’t require anything of you any longer.”
While she struggled to do herself up, he pulled on his trousers, dragged on his shirt, tugged on his boots. He didn’t know how she’d done it, but she was dressed and heading for the door before he’d finished. He hastened to follow.
“I don’t need you to escort me,” she said tartly.
“Is your carriage in the mews? There’s a rear door that will get you there directly.”
She didn’t speak until they reached the lowest level. “Well, show me.”
He led her down the hallway, through the kitchens. Throwing the bolt on the door, he swung it open. She edged past him, taking deliberate care to ensure her skirts didn’t brush against him this time.
It was like a blow to the gut. Even though it was deserved.
With her shoulders back, her head held high, she marched forward. The footman opened the carriage door and handed her up.
She settled in, becoming lost in the shadows, without looking out the window. Then she was gone.
And everything grew quiet.
He dropped to his knees, threw his head back, and howled as the pain of letting her go threatened to destroy him.
Chapter 20
She’d gone through her day in a haze, her well-sated body continuing to thrum, her mind constantly drifting to thoughts of Griff and the manner in which he’d made her feel loved, cherished, and desired. Until he’d snatched it all away with the brutal truth.
When Althea had called on her and they’d enjoyed tea in the garden, she’d almost confessed, “I made the mistake of falling madly in love with your brother.”