The Ugly Duchess

Page 55

“Perhaps,” she said. “But—though I would point out that I never said anything about Geoffrey as a possible consort—he would understand my disinclination to submit to the sort of feverish embraces that you prefer. I would actually guess,” she said thoughtfully, “that Geoffrey would find marital congress as objectionable as I.”
“ ‘Marital congress?’ ”
She ignored his interjection. “Geoffrey and I are both adults. Distasteful or not, we would engage in carnality as required in order to procreate. Actually, I would say that Geoffrey and I are alike in that. I’m not so much disinclined to bedding sports as I think I am incapable of responding in the way that you desire. I cannot stay married to you, James. I think it would tear me apart.”
James was thinking as quickly as he ever did in the heat of battle. None of his reading on board ship—in Machiavelli, in the arts of war, in the philosophy of the ancient Greeks—was helping him in this most crucial moment of his entire life. He could have bellowed with pent-up fear and rage, but instead, he closed his eyes, ignoring Theo for the moment.
Then he tried to sort through the tendrils of shame, guilt, rage, and—yes—love that bound them together. There was a reason he could speak of his father only to Daisy. There was a reason he was able to express his own self-loathing and regret to her, and feel cleansed and forgiven by a glimpse of her dimple.
They were bound together, and probably had been from the summer when he was blind and she became his eyes.
He couldn’t imagine how he had lived without her for seven years. She was like sunlight. Like food and drink.
He walked toward her, every bit of his body concentrated on her. She was his. She was all that he wanted, all that he had ever wanted, even though he had lost track of that truth for a while.
“James,” she said, a slight warning in her tone.
He closed his hands around her slender waist and plucked her to standing, careful not to disturb her sheet.
“I want you,” he said. For the first time, his altered voice sounded just right. He should be growling at the wife who didn’t want him, who thought she never wanted to be in bed with him again. The sound was fitting.
He didn’t want her to speak more of those words that caged her as surely as iron bars, so he bent his head to her lips. They were lush and sweet as he remembered—and he did remember, even all these years later. He had never forgotten their first kiss.
He almost lost his head, but he caught himself. He had to make her comfortable with him, in essence, to act like the castrated male she thought she wanted. Griffin would think it was the stupidest thing he’d ever heard of. But Griffin wasn’t a woman who had experienced precisely two days of married life, seven years ago.
Griffin wasn’t his adorable, controlled, rigid Daisy.
She pushed him away, and he stepped back instantly, remembering to smile.
Twenty-nine
“There’s something I must tell you that you don’t understand,” James said.
His expression made Theo fidget. She wound her sheet more tightly around her breasts. “What I don’t understand is why Amélie, my maid, hasn’t appeared. I rang for her long ago.”
“I told her to go home; it’s her mother’s birthday.”
“But—” she said, and stopped. She hadn’t known it was Amélie’s mother’s birthday, but if it had truly mattered, Amélie would have asked for the day off. Theo prided herself on never being unreasonable to any staff request stemming from personal life.
“I suspect she didn’t want to upset your routine.”
“There would be no upset,” she explained. “When Amélie takes her half-day, Mary helps me. She’s very well trained.”
“I sent Mary home as well.”
Theo frowned at him. “One of them is always with me. My gowns are not like gentlemen’s clothing. I generally don’t bother with corsets, but if I had worn one under my morning gown, I would still be in it now.”
“You have no need for a corset,” James remarked, his gaze frankly admiring.
“Yes, well,” she told him. “I can’t expect you to understand. I’ll just have to fetch one of the other maids.”
He shook his head.
“You didn’t!” She dropped back onto the stool.
“I thought it was a perfect moment to give the staff a treat. I want them to like me, you see. And it’s very unpleasant for them being in a house under siege.”
“They will always like you as long as you continue to pay their wages. You didn’t let them all go home, did you?”
“Everyone except for Maydrop and his footmen, who are guarding the house.”
“Are you mad? Who will bring us food? Who will . . .” She looked around wildly.
He smiled at her. “Maydrop had the staff leave in several carriages, confusing the gossipmongers.”
“How will we dress for calls tomorrow morning?” she demanded. “You cannot think that I will traipse down to the drawing room in a state of disarray?”
“Any visits we receive would be from people thirsting for a close look at my tattoo. I’m not receiving callers, and neither are you. In fact, I had Maydrop remove the knocker. I’m hoping that between the confusion caused by the staff leaving in different carriages and the missing knocker, the hordes of hacks will come to the conclusion that we managed to give them the slip and flee to the country.”
She had forgotten how avid the ton would be to get a close look at the pirate duke. Strangely enough, he looked more and more like the old James to her all the time.
“Well, perhaps it is better that we remain here,” she said, somewhat reluctantly. The next day or so would be a trial, but it was better than playing host to inquisitive crowds. “You were right,” she said, giving credit where it was due. “It would have been a dreadful crush once people began to pay calls.”
“Yes.” He was lounging against the wall in a way no gentleman would, looking slightly amused by the whole situation.
“If you’ll excuse me,” Theo said, changing the subject, “I would like some privacy to take a bath.”
“As we are virtually alone in the house,” he responded, “I wanted to clarify one mistake that you’re making. You believe that I am the same young man whom you made love to seven years ago, with the same needs and desires as I had then.”
She started to speak, and he held up his hand. “Back in ’09, we made love because we were in love.”
Theo nodded. All this steam was dampening her hair and causing strands to fall over her eyes. She remembered how much he had loved her curls, and quickly sleeked it back from her forehead.
“In the interim, you have changed,” James said.
“Obviously,” she said, pushing away the image of herself hanging over him like a streetwalker, teasing him with her hair. She must have been out of her mind.
“What I’ve been trying to tell you is that you have not allowed for the possibility that I have changed as well. I assure you that I have. I’m no longer a young lad.”
“You are not yet thirty.”
“With age came control.” His smile was a bit smug, though she didn’t think it would be polite to point that out. “I was angry several times today, but I did not lose my temper.”