Chapter 3
Three
“Ibeg your pardon?” Rowen’s jaw was practically on the floor as she stared at the Duke.
She was sure she had misheard him. He had not even recognized her, and yet he said she would be his wife as if it were a foregone conclusion.
Rowen shook her head, eyes searching the Duke’s face.
His green eyes glittered in the firelight, and one corner of his mouth quirked into a half-smile. For all the world, he might have been talking about the weather.
“You will marry me. That is the solution to all of your problems.” He arched an eyebrow at her. “After all, I have more than enough to provide for you and your family, and though the repairs to this house will be extensive, it will be well within my means to arrange them.”
“And at what point in our conversation did I agree to marry you?” Rowen narrowed her eyes, her arms folded across her chest.
The Duke gave a languid shrug, the movement making his wet clothes cling to his body in a way that made it nearly impossible not to stare at the thick muscles beneath the fabric.
“Why would you not? I am a duke. I am told that I am rather easy on the eyes, and you will want for nothing once we are wed.”
You will want for nothing once we are wed.
In her mind, the Duke’s face was replaced with her late husband’s. Anger roared to life within her, and she clung to it like a life raft. The heat in her cheeks cooled, and she tore her gaze from the Duke’s body.
“I have been stung by such promises before. They are easy enough to make and far easier to break.” She met his sparkling green eyes and tilted her chin up.
She saw a flash of something dark and fiery in his gaze, but ploughed on before he could say anything.
“I shall be perfectly candid, lest we confuse the matter in politeness and subtlety. I have no wish to be married ever again. Not to you nor to any man.”
In truth, after the day she had just had, she doubted she would have been able to be anything but candid.
“Allow me to be just as forthright. Marriage to me is your only option. It is the only thing that will allow you to keep your dignity, your estate, and your children safe.” His voice was calm and devoid of emotion, and it only stoked her anger.
“And what exactly do you mean by that?” She stiffened, clenching her fingers into the fabric of her dress as she took a step towards him. “If you are threatening my children, I will—”
“As admirable as I find your fire, it will not save you now,” he cut her off and gave her a pointed look. “You are clearly an intelligent woman. If you were not, you would not have been able to keep your household afloat for so long. But you are still a woman.”
She let out a low growl.
How dare he?
“And because I am a woman, you think I am incapable of looking after my family? Of saving us from ruin?”
“I do not doubt that you could do almost anything you set your mind to.” His words knocked the wind from her sails, and the angry retort she had planned died on her lips.
“Unfortunately, plenty of other men will dismiss you simply because of your sex. And those men hold the power and the purse strings.”
“And how do I know you will not do the same? For all you compliment me, how do I know you do not think as they do?” Rowen swallowed as the phantom scent of sandalwood rose between them. She forced it away.
He is dead.
“I suppose you will have to trust me.” The Duke’s smile did not reach his eyes. “After all, few men will do business with a woman, and even fewer are to be trusted. Even if you were to get the money for the repairs, how will you afford to send your son to Eton and then to university?”
“He does not have to go. He has a governess, and I can teach him everything he needs or find someone else to teach him.” Rowen rolled her shoulders back, grateful that her voice did not break.
The Duke made a dismissive gesture with his hand.
“Which would be fine if boys were sent to those institutions for purely academic purposes. But they are not. That is where connections are made, where he will learn the inner workings of male Society—something that you cannot teach him. He is an earl; he will be expected to follow the path of every other noble, and that means Eton and university. To deny him that will keep him on the outside. You of all people know how much the ton loves to judge.”
Rowen nodded, but said nothing.
“And of course, there is your daughter to think about. She will need a dowry for when she gets married. My understanding is that it costs rather a lot to have a daughter out in Society—what with dresses, accessories, and of course such intensive tutelage in airs and graces.” He counted off each one on his fingers.
“Your brother asked me to look after you, and that is what I intend to do.”
“But why? Because he sent you a letter asking you to? You barely know me, and you do not know my children. Why would you do this for us?” Rowen’s eyes traced his face, lingering on the thin scar that stretched from his left ear, along his neck, and out of sight.
For a moment, the Duke said nothing. His eyes glazed over, drifting from her face to something that only he could see. Rowen saw his muscles tense, his jaw clench, and wondered if she had managed to get through to him.
“Your brother saved my life. In truth, we have both saved each other from harm on several occasions, but the last time… Well, had it not been for him, I would not be standing before you today.” He ran a hand along the scar.
“On that day, I swore to him that should anything happen to him, I would care for you and your children. And I am a man of my word.”
“But marriage…” Rowen trailed off.
The Duke let out a long, slow breath, running a hand through his sodden hair.
“It is the only way. You yourself have pointed out that I could not financially support you otherwise. My money will be yours, and you and your children will benefit from the protection of my title. Your son will go to the right schools, and your daughter will have a dowry that will see her safe and cared for, no matter what her husband does.”
Rowen decided that this was not the moment to tell the Duke that she was not convinced that Georgia had any intention of following convention. After all, it would not change the situation.
At least, not for the better.
“You know that this is the only way.” The Duke’s voice was soft, before he swept into a low bow, a smirk on his face. “Most women would leap at the chance to marry me.”
“You have already said that I am not most women.”
Exceptional.
Her heart skittered as she remembered the compliment he had paid her, not as though he were flattering her but as if he had simply been stating a fact.
Get a hold of yourself, Rowen. Do not fall for a handsome face.
“If you are expecting me to leap into your arms, you will be disappointed.”
The Duke folded his arms across his chest, the fabric clinging to his muscles, and Rowen swallowed. “Perhaps, but I suspect you will still be my Duchess.”
Rowen’s mouth went dry, and she licked her lips, forcing herself to keep her voice steady. “I will, but my agreement is not unconditional. I will be your wife in name only, and you will keep your distance from my children.”
“Such fire, such spirit.”
The Duke took a step towards her, his eyes dancing with a dark and wild emotion that sent shivers down her spine. He reached a hand towards her face and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.
The tip of his finger brushed against her skin, and her breath caught. She felt like she was teetering on a knife-edge; the air around her felt charged. Her eyes darted to his full lips, curled into a smile that grew at her look.
Heat spread through her, and her eyes found his once more. They were dancing with amusement.
His voice was low and silky, making her think of the panther she had seen as a little girl. “Let us be clear with one another—I am the one helping you, not the other way around. What makes you think that I will let you place conditions on me?”
Rowen shook her head, trying to wrangle her thoughts into something sensible.
Why is it so hard to breathe?
“You swore to my brother that you would look after my family.”
“That does not mean I will bow to your every whim.” His breath tickled her skin.
She dug her nails into the palms of her hands and looked back at him. “I will not let any harm come to my children.”
A flicker of emotion crossed the Duke’s face, too quick for her to place. He stepped away from her, and the tension in her chest vanished.
She drew in a deep breath, feeling as though she had been freed from a vice.
The Duke’s face was shadowed, his tone dangerous as he said, “And do you think me some kind of monster that they need protecting from? Rest assured, I have no wish to corrupt them or harm them, but there are things your son simply cannot learn from you. Things that he must know to fulfil his duties as an earl.”
“What makes you think I do not know those things?”
Now that the Duke was farther away, the fog in her mind began to clear.
“Tell me, what university should he attend?” He gave a mirthless chuckle.
“Cambridge,” she replied without hesitation.
“Cambridge is for halfwits, commoners, and simpletons. Real men go to Oxford.” The Duke made a dismissive gesture with his hand.
“My late husband went to Oxford.” She could not keep the venom from her voice. “If he is any indication of the kind of man that place produces, I want my son nowhere near it.”
“I went to Oxford.” The Duke moved towards her. “As did every other man of note you will meet. Whatever failings your late husband showed, you would do well not to paint me with the same brush.”
Rowen suppressed a shudder at the coldness of his words, the harshness that had overtaken him. It was then that she remembered he had been in the army. She could easily imagine this man in the heat of battle.