Chapter 3

Chapter Three

The following morning Blade felt more himself.

He’d dressed appropriately late, near midnight, when his carriage finally arrived.

Not in time for him to join the others for dinner, so he’d had no chance to talk with Harriet or her brother.

However, this morning he’d convinced Philip Rondell, Viscount Trello, to accompany him on a morning ride.

All night he’d pondered on Harriet’s words at the hot pool. How had he read this so wrong? Trello had led him to believe that his sister, Harriet, would welcome the match. Trello too, thought Lady Harriet held a tendre for him. Most women would be ecstatic at his attentions.

Whoa! Was he really that arrogant? He smiled to himself. He’d never had a complaint before. He knew he could have the hand of any woman he offered for.

Almost all. Once again Lady Harriet differed from every other woman he’d met. And that only attracted him more.

She had the body of Venus, curves in all the right places and then some. Her breasts were high and firm and the nipples peaking above the water, all tight and wet, had made his mouth water.

“What are you smiling at on this cold, sunny winter's day?” Trello pulled his horse in beside Ghost.

“I was thinking about Harriet. What made you think she would be open to an offer?”

Trello shrugged and tried to keep his steed under control. “My sister is intelligent enough to understand a match with you is not only prudent but would make her happy. Our families are very close and family is important to her.”

“But have you or your father conversed with her on this subject?”

Trello looked bewildered. “Not exactly. Isn’t that why you are here? I understand father wishes to talk with you about the marriage contracts and formalities. Harriet is your domain. You’ve never had trouble getting women to do as you wish.”

“Your sister is not like most women.” Blade cursed under his breath.

No wonder Harriet’s reception was a little confusing.

He’d ignored her all season and now suddenly he wanted to marry her.

He would have courted her if he’d been able.

Jolly Prinny! He wished he could throttle the Regent.

Worse still he had sworn an oath not to reveal the task the Regent had set him.

Harriet sensed what he was here for, but no one had talked to her about the situation. If those he loved were planning around him without his input, annoyed would be putting it mildly. Angry and hurt too.

“This may not be as simple as you are making out, Trello.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I think I know my sister and she holds a tendre for you. Why do you think she turned down so many proposals this season?”

“She did?” The idea of her marrying anyone else blackened his mood and made him realize how lucky he was to find her still unattached. Just then he heard a horse galloping, and he looked up to see Harriet galloping toward them.

Trello saw her too. “Now’s your opportunity to win a fair maiden’s heart.”

“That may be too much to ask. I’ll start with her agreement to marry me.

” Harriet stirred his senses. He loved her intelligence, her spirit, and her beauty, but he’d never considered love when he thought of marriage—not since…

. Men like him and Trello had to consider all their obligations to family, tenants, and God and country when choosing a wife.

Love wasn’t an option to dictate the path of their lives.

“I shall see you back at the house. When you’re free, I’d value your thoughts on the Carthors venture.” With that, Trello galloped away.

Like the gentleman he was, Blade used the reins to hold Ghost in check, waiting for Harriet to catch up.

“Good morning, Harry.” She frowned at his use of the name he’d given her when she was a young girl. He’d called her Harry because she’d tried to do anything the boys did. If she wanted to be a boy, he’d call her by a boy’s name. She’d loved it at the time.

“Oh, please. I’m not a little girl chasing after her brothers anymore.”

He let his eyes linger on the tight-fitting riding jacket she wore. “Most definitely not a little girl.” He loved the flush that raced across her cheeks. She didn’t stand a chance if she tried to play with him. Seduction was his middle name and hers was innocence.

“Stop trying to distract me. It won’t work.”

Oh, it was working. She couldn’t look him in the eyes. “May I accompany you on your ride?”

She sighed. “Of course. Why do you think I’m out here in the cold this early in the morning? It will give us a chance to talk without others listening.”

Any time he could grab alone with her, he’d take. “Shall we head for the winter croft?”

“I’ll race you,” and she was off before he’d had time to gather Ghost’s reins. It didn’t matter, her gelding was no match for his stallion. But he wanted her in a good mood, so he held back and let her reach the croft first.

They slowed the horses to a walk, and it amused him when she let out a vast sigh as if the weight of the world sat upon her shoulders. “You let me win.”

“Is that important?”

She shook her head. “No. It’s just sometimes you surprise me.”

They walked in silence for a while. He watched as she chewed on her bottom lip. He wanted to ask what was wrong, but understood she was working through something. Finally, she pulled her horse to a stop and looked over at him.

“Are you here to ask for my hand in marriage?”

He wanted to smile but knew that was the wrong thing to do. She was too serious. “I am.”

She nodded, the lip still being chewed. “Ever since I was a young girl, I knew they would expect me to marry and marry well.” She looked directly at him. “So I made a list.”

“A list?” She was watching him closely.

“The things I’m looking for in a husband.”

This time it was he who moved tentatively in the saddle.

What she was looking for in a husband? Why did that unsettle him?

To society, he was a perfect catch for any woman.

He was a duke, from a very distinguished family.

He was wealthy—very wealthy. Women seemed to find him attractive, and he had a reputation as a wonderful lover. Plus, their families were very close.

She continued. “Shall I read what’s on my list?” She didn’t wait for an answer.

He must be kind

He must treat me as an equal partner

He must never take a mistress

“I beg your pardon?” She carried on as if number three was a mere slip.

He must be honest and keep nothing from me

He must have a sense of humor

“Wait, please. A mistress?”

She tipped her bonnet back. “I do believe you are blushing, Blade. A mistress. I assume you know what they are. My brother has one, or is it two? Country and town. Do you have a mistress?”

His face flushed with color and she loved how suddenly he didn’t look like the formidable duke, but instead a tad more vulnerable.

“No.” The word was forced out between clenched teeth.

“Not at the moment or never?” She knew he’d had mistresses. “May I remind you, number four on my list is honesty.”

His answer would help her decide what sort of life she might have with him as her husband. Or if she should even consider his offer.

“I currently do not have a mistress. I would never court a wife with another woman sharing my bed. I am honorable.”

He was honorable, so she believed him. The relief that chased after her doubts was instant. “Would you take a mistress after you marry?”

“No.”

“What if your wife didn’t wish to share your bed?”

“That would never happen.” The confident smile hit every inch of her body like a velvet glove, stroking her imagination, and the gravelly tone of his words sent heat flaring even in this cold.

Bother. She didn’t or couldn’t parley words with him, not on this topic. He was far too experienced for the likes of her.

“Is that everything on your list?” His question surprised her. “Because if it is, I can confidentially state that I meet every requirement.

Drat. She wished she knew what else was on his list. “Before I share more, what would be on your list?”

He laughed and the sound made her lips curve up. She loved how open he was with his emotions. She could always tell when he was happy, sad, angry, or that special posturing only dukes portrayed.

“I don’t have a list.” His laughter died as she frowned. “That’s probably not true. I have an image in my head of what I am looking for in a wife.”

An image in his head? Wasn’t that a lie? She’d found his list. Now her assuredness was under threat again. “So, no list on parchment?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Why would I need to write it down?”

Liar. “What is it you are looking for? Or why me?”

He dismounted and tethered his horse, reaching up to help her down. With no thought, she fell into his arms and couldn’t hide the shudder through her limbs as he purposely let her slide down his muscled chest.

When her feet finally found the ground, he leaned down and whispered in her ear, “Mainly it’s because my thoughts, when I look at you, are not gentlemanly or honorable. And given your breeding and family connections, that makes you more than perfect for the role of my duchess.”

His warm breath in the cold air wasn’t the only thing causing a mist over her eyes.

Goodness gracious, why did he affect her so?

She wished he didn’t affect her because marriage was for life and surely it should be built on more than mere physical attraction?

What happens when she grew older? If there is only physical attraction, what happens when beauty fades.

“There are many beautiful young ladies with more than suitable family connections,” and she pushed out of his arms and walked towards the croft with her mind whirling.

When she heard the loud sigh she swung round to face him.

“I know I should be flattered. I know I should view your intentions as every woman’s dream.

But… ” She turned away and cursing into the wind, she stamped her foot.

How impossible to make a man, let alone a duke, understand what a woman, well, a woman like her, really wanted.

Love.

All her life she’d been consumed by Blade.

Each time he’d visited, or when her family visited London and she saw him at family gatherings or balls, she’d not had eyes for any other man.

Now here he was. About to give her what she’d always wanted.

For some reason she could not bring herself to say yes.

He’d have his work as the duke, and all the obligations that came with his position, House of Lords, governmental issues, tenants, family—she’d hardly see him if her father was anything to go by.

She wanted to matter. For once in her life, she wanted to matter.

Her chest heaved with the power of the emotions boiling below the surface.

She should be the perfect young lady and not let her emotions overcome her, but marriage, for a woman, was a serious business.

There was no escape once wed. The wrong man and her life would be over.

Was Blade the right man for her?

To think he’d simply made a list and her name came out on top was no basis for the marriage she wanted.

She sensed him at her back. He didn’t touch her, but his presence was all-consuming.

“What are you afraid of?”

His question caught her by surprise. How had he guessed she was afraid?

She turned and his arms wrapped around her. She leaned into his chest. “I hate that you’ve organized this betrothal without even pretending to court me. It’s as if I should be grateful and yet,” and she pushed out of his warm hold, “I’m a catch too.”

“I know you are. You’re beautiful.” And he ran a gloved finger down her cheek.

She looked into his eyes and reminded herself to stay strong. “I could have married this year. What would you have felt if I had?”

“I don’t think I would have liked that.”

“Then where were you when I had my come out?”

He looked away. His silence was unnerving. So she spoke, anger goading her to reveal more than she wanted to. “Turning up this Christmas, with betrothal in mind, makes me feel like an afterthought. And I refuse to be an afterthought for any man.”

With that, she walked to Brandy, her gelding, and swung up into the saddle.

He didn’t stop her.

Brandy walked past him and she gave one last comment. “I’m not a woman who marries any man who has to make a list to know what he requires in a wife.”

With that she kicked her horse and took off at a gallop, his words muffled by the wind, but she thought he’d said, “What list?”

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