The Insufferable Husband #2
“I am a man of my word,” he said, his tone carrying a hint of offense. “I shall not interfere with your businesses or your charities. But I will not deliberately place myself at a disadvantage, particularly in London where circumstances can change rapidly.”
Eleanor studied his face, recognizing the stubborn set of his jaw that meant further argument would be futile. They had reached an impasse—his honor against her security, trust against legal protection.
“Very well,” she said quietly, rising from her chair. “Then we shall see whose word proves more reliable—yours, or the law’s.”
What are you about, you imbecile? Damien chided himself even as the words left his mouth.
Becoming attached to this woman, either with his body or heart, was precisely what he needed to avoid, by God.
As soon as he found Dominic, he would take him back to their ancestral home, if all went well.
If Croft continued to be a threat, he’d take his brother as far away from England as possible.
The lad had made fair recovery away from the clutches of that man.
Damien was not about to hand Dominic back to the darkest corners of London just because his prick found his wife irresistible.
And yet he was doing exactly the opposite—handing both balls to this striking woman.
It felt as though he was sitting at hell’s gate. Heat threatened to overcome him, and it wouldn’t do to show his hand.
Damien set down his fork and reached for his cravat, loosening it with deft fingers before removing it entirely. “You find this room rather warm, don’t you? Or perhaps it’s the wine.”
The casual intimacy of the gesture—a man undressing, even partially, at the dinner table—would be considered shocking to anyone.
Eleanor stared, rightfully so, as he unfastened his top button and rolled up his sleeves, revealing forearms corded with lean muscle.
Not the soft limbs of a gentleman who spent his days in clubs and drawing rooms, his were the arms of a man who’d been training in the oriental art of fighting for the past three years.
Damien had started to defend himself and his brother against the local gangs who had no regard for his title or authority in England.
Then the fighting became a bonding experience for them both.
Strangely, it was the fights and their ability to defend themselves that became a powerful antidote to Dominic’s addiction.
They had learned to channel their excessive energy and time into this form of art.
“What are you doing?” his duchess finally managed after gaping at him for an embarrassingly long time.
“Creating equal footing,” he replied simply. “You’ve employed every advantage at your disposal, including your considerable charms. It seemed only fair to respond in kind.”
A laugh escaped her, followed by her attempt to contain it—a genuine sound of surprised amusement. “You’re the most insufferable man I’ve ever encountered.”
“And yet you’re smiling.” His own grin widened, hoping it was infectious. “A promising development in our negotiations. Imagine the impact if I were trying to charm you.”
Eleanor shook her head, the curls by her ears bouncing adorably. She was obviously torn between exasperation and reluctant admiration for his audacity.
“What exactly are you proposing?” she asked as she straightened her spine and took a sip of her wine.
“A partnership of sorts. We present ourselves to Society as a happily married couple. You maintain control of your financial affairs. I conduct my business in London with the advantages of a ducal residence and respectable household. We share this house as equals.”
“And the matter of…” She hesitated, the words sticking in her throat.
“Marital relations?” he finished for her, his voice gentle. “That remains entirely at your discretion. I would welcome your interest, should it develop, but I will not demand what you’re unwilling to give.”
The offer was a reasonable one given how much more he could rightfully demand. To his chagrin, this seemed to make her all the more suspicious. “But what of Mr. Abram?”
He reached for his wine, watching her as her gaze followed his hand. “If we need to convince the staff of our legitimacy as a couple, we could feign it without much difficulty. Can we not?”
“Yes… I suppose so.” Her voice was timid, something he believed was uncharacteristic of her. “Although, by all things holy, I wish you would not insist on it.”
Her brows furrowed and he made an instant decision to be frank.
“My dear wife,” he said as he drained the wine from his glass, “I’ve not felt the touch of a woman for three years.
I’ve never been keen on brothels, and hiring a mistress in the Orient meant giving away one of my balls to the local criminal organization.
So, pardon me for being so frank, but given the choice, I’d rather bed you even if it meant offering my left bollock to you, Duchess. ”
Damien glanced at Eleanor, whose complexion had turned a most becoming shade of crimson. Her voice was steadier than he’d expected. “And if I agree to fake our marriage, how long do you intend to remain in London?”
“I cannot say. You may not wish me to leave.” He smiled smugly. “You do not strictly need my absence, after all. Not if I am able to satisfy your… needs.”
His wife slightly choked on her wine. How endearing.
“A significant change from our original agreement,” she managed.
“With significant benefits to compensate.” He leaned back in his chair, studying her remarkable blue eyes. “Your Mr. Abram strikes me as a particularly persistent sort, from what you’ve told me. Wouldn’t the visible presence of a duke rather conclusively end his meddling?”
Eleanor nodded.
“Imagine him being informed by the butler that ‘Her Grace is now receiving callers with His Grace’s approval only.’”
Despite herself, Eleanor smiled. “That would be most satisfying.”
“I’m certain Simmons could utter those words with remarkable relish,” Damien added, pleased to see the tension easing from her shoulders.
“One month,” she said finally. “We will try this arrangement for one month. After which, we will reassess.”
He smiled triumphantly. “A reasonable compromise, my darling wife.”
“With conditions,” she added quickly. “You will explain these mysterious ‘business affairs’ that require your presence in London.”
“In time. Some matters require discretion, for reasons that extend beyond my personal preferences.” He would not risk her discovering his search for Dominic too soon. Not until he’d assessed the position of all the chess pieces.
Eleanor held his gaze, her frown deepening with doubt; therefore, what she said surprised him. “Very well. But if your business threatens to create scandal that might damage my reputation, you will give me fair warning.”
“You have my word.” He extended his hand. “Do we have an agreement, Duchess?”
Eleanor placed her hand in his, then opened his palm on hers.
With a finger, she tentatively traced the calluses that spoke of a life far different from most aristocrats of her acquaintance.
The gentle touch reminded him achingly of what had been missing in his life.
She looked up with half-curiosity and half-resignation. “Conditionally, Your Grace.”
“Damien,” he reminded her softly, his thumb tracing a small circle against her wrist. “If we’re to present ourselves as a happily married couple, you should use my Christian name.”
“In time, but for now, you are my most inconvenient duke,” she said, ignoring his thumb’s motion though he felt her pulse quicken beneath his touch. “For one month.”
He laughed, the rich sound filling the space as he tightened his fingers around hers before reluctantly releasing her hand. “One month to convince you of the advantages of my presence. I look forward to the challenge.”
The remainder of the meal passed in surprisingly companionable conversation, though Damien fought against his nature and maintained his distance despite being acutely aware of her proximity, her scent, the silken texture of her skin, the tantalizing glimpse of her breasts.
One month. He would use it to discover if the lust he felt for his duchess might someday mean more than just physical attraction. One month for him to find his brother and send him away from Croft for good. One month to gather evidence against Croft and destroy him.
And if he found himself completely enchanted by his wife after a month? That was a heartbreak he was willing to risk.