Tall, Duke, and Dangerous

by Megan Frampton

  Ivy pulled herself back from the embrace, her expression solemn. “I wanted to find you to apologize.”

  “For what?” Ana Maria snorted. “Unless you’re sorry you married Sebastian, in which case you are not forgiven.” She accompanied her words with a grin.

  Ivy looked regretful. “I might have told Sebastian what Octavia told me. About you and Nash.”

  Ana Maria’s chest squeezed. “Ah. So—what did you tell Sebastian, exactly?”

  Ivy bit her lip before speaking. “That you two were spending more time together than you had before, and that there are rumors that he has to get married for some reason. I did mention the betting book, though, which has Lady Felicity running ahead of you with much slimmer odds.”

  “Oh.” That was why Sebastian had demanded Nash speak with him and Thaddeus. But why were they even upset about it? Didn’t they trust her to make her own choices?

  Obviously not, since they were currently in a room alone with Nash telling him— “Do you know what Sebastian thinks about it all? I mean, is he for or against?”

  “For or against?” Ivy’s eyebrows rose. “You know, I’m not certain. He just kept muttering about how you were his sister, and you deserved to have everything you deserve.”

  “But not what I choose, apparently.”

  Ana Maria nodded to Ivy as she began to walk out of the room. “If you will excuse me? I have some relatives to yell at.”

  “Excellent!” Ivy exclaimed, patting Ana Maria on the shoulder as she strode past.

  She flung the doors open and stepped inside, meeting her brother’s and her cousin’s shocked looks with her own angry one.

  Nash wasn’t there, and she felt a pang of regret he wouldn’t see how she was defending herself, since that was the whole point of his lessons.

  Though she didn’t think she’d go so far as to punch anyone. Yet.

  “What did you say?” she demanded, glancing from one to the other.

  They both looked guilty.

  “Say?” Sebastian said.

  Ana Maria rolled her eyes. “Thaddeus, why did you need to call Nash in here? I believe it has something to do with me?” She folded her arms over her chest. “In which case, perhaps you should address whatever it is with me?”

  “It’s something we needed to talk to with Nash,” Thaddeus sputtered. He made a vague gesture that only served to infuriate Ana Maria more. “It is our responsibility to ensure your safety, and so—”

  “For or against?” Ana Maria said, tapping her toe.

  They both blinked. “For or against what?” Sebastian asked.

  “Do you want me to marry Nash, or were you warning him against me?”

  “We’d never warn him against you,” Sebastian said, approaching her with a tentative air. Good. She didn’t necessarily trust herself not to pop him in the jaw.

  And now she had much more sympathy toward Nash and his tendencies, since she could see why someone’s actions could lead to violence.

  “What did you do?”

  Thaddeus rose from his chair, folding his arms behind his back as though he was standing at attention. “We merely told him we were concerned that your other suitors be given a proper chance.”

  “A proper chance?” Her voice squeaked, and now she was annoyed at herself as well. “It’s not a question of fairness, you two. It’s a question of how I choose to spend my time. And Nash is my friend, and I like spending time with my friends.” She gave them each a disdainful look. “Unlike wanting to spend time with my relations.”

  “But Nash isn’t—he’s not—” Sebastian began.

  “I know who he is.” Even though he hasn’t trusted me with all of him. “And more importantly, you know who I am. Don’t you trust me enough to make my own decisions? Why are you discussing me without me in the room?” And just like that, her emotions erupted into full-blown anger.

  Which normally would have been a cause of personal distress, but now was a moment for exultation—feeling so passionately meant she felt completely, and she wanted to glory in the fullness of her emotions, even if the emotions themselves were ones she did not want to harbor all the time.

  And that’s why she was so determined to see through whatever it was she was doing with Nash—she wanted to feel everything, she wanted to be in control and yet out of control all at the same time. Because she was Lady Oxymoron, she wanted to revel in all of it and make her own decisions.

  “I’ll thank you two to stay out of my affairs,” she warned. “I’ll make my own decisions, and I presume Nash will as well.”

  And she already knew he had decided that whatever they were doing together was not going to be permanent. And she knew she had already decided that it would never be permanent for as long as he kept himself hidden from her.

  So all that was left was a temporary thing fueled by her passion.

  That didn’t seem so bad, did it?

  She burst into the training room as though she had a lightning storm propelling her through. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes were wide and sparkling, and she wore that same dull-colored dress from before.

  Glorious, from head to toe.

  Nash swallowed at the sight. He certainly enjoyed it when she was dressed in her shimmering gowns and delicate slippers, but he felt more connected to her when she was wearing what he’d always seen her in—albeit now with a heightened sense of just how attractive he found her.

  “Are you ready to be punched this afternoon, Your Grace?” she said in a teasing voice.

  He grunted in reply.

  “That’s the sound that means that you doubt I will punch you, but you are willing to tolerate my impudence.”

  His eyes widened, because she was right.

  “I have to wrap my hands first, correct?”

  Another grunt.

  “And will you need help with it? Last time I believe they were wrapped when I arrived, but now they’re not.”

  She took his hands in hers, holding the palms up as she ran her fingers over his skin. “I’m surprised you don’t have more injuries, given how often you seem to engage in fighting.”

  Nash scowled. “I always win.”

  She gave him a mocking look. “Of course you do. You just punch them, growl, and then stalk off.”

  “I do not,” he retorted. “Sometimes I tell them why I punched them as well.”

  “A complete experience,” she said with a grin. She moved over to the chest of drawers at the corner. “The linens are here, if I recall correctly?”

  “Mm,” he replied.

  “Do we need Finan?”

  He growled, at which she laughed. “I’ll take that as a no, then.”

  She brought the linens out, the various lengths dangling over her hands. “You’ll have to show me how to do it properly. I don’t want you to get hurt when I punch you.”

  “You won’t.”

  She tilted her head to regard him. “I won’t punch you? Or I won’t hurt you?”

  “Both.”

  Her eyebrow rose. “Is that a challenge? Because if you teach me properly, I will know how to both punch and hurt you. Even if you don’t want me to. So if I am unable to, that is your failing.” She accompanied her words with a poke to his chest and a stern glare.

  He liked it when she showed her fire. She had been smothered under her stepmother for so long he wasn’t certain it was there. But it was there all right, and he wanted to see it burn.

  See her burn.

  She took a deep breath, then met his gaze. “I know Sebastian and Thaddeus spoke to you.”

  “Mm.”

  She frowned. “What did you say to them?” She held her hand up. “No, wait, you probably just made muttering noises and didn’t tell them anything.”

  He stiffened. “I told them you deserved to decide for yourself.”

  Her eyes widened in surprise. “Oh!”

  “They said that your other suitors got less of a chance with me hanging around. Not that I am one of your suitors,” h
e corrected hastily.

  She rolled her eyes. “Of course not, we’ve established that.”

  “They mentioned they all send you flowers.”

  Her face was curious. “They do. And?”

  He swallowed. “You like flowers.”

  “I do.” Now her face held a quiet smile, as though she were indulging him in his line of questioning.

  “What is your favorite?”

  Her eyes got dreamy. “Tulips.” Not that he had the faintest clue what a tulip looked like.

  “I don’t know anything about flowers.” He took a deep breath, then reached into his pocket, withdrawing the now sadly wilted flower she’d handed him a few days prior. “What kind is this?”

  “It’s a daisy.” She paused. “You’ve been carrying that around this whole time?”

  It was on the tip of his tongue to deny it, but what was the point? It wasn’t as though she would think less of him. If anything, she would think more. “Yes.”

  “Oh,” she exclaimed. “That is so sweet!”

  He glowered. “I am not sweet.”

  “So you keep on saying, and yet—” She gestured toward him as she let out a tiny giggle.

  “Fine, I’m sweet,” he replied with an exasperated sigh. “But I was thinking . . .”

  “Yes?”

  “I recall my mother liking flowers, too.” His throat got thick at the memory—his mother outside with him, picking flowers while he played. “I want to know more about them.”

  Her expression softened. “You want to know more about your mother. Why don’t you contact her? It’d be easier than making a study of botany.”

  “I don’t know if I can. I don’t—”

  She put her hand on his arm. “You’re you, Ignatius. You can do anything.”

  Her brown eyes held a warmth that made him want to—well, he didn’t know, since he’d never felt this way before. “Thank you.”

  She smiled as she leaned up to kiss him on the cheek. “You’re welcome.” He felt bereft when she withdrew—when had her presence started to mean so much to him?

  “But we should get to self-defense training, since except for one time all we seem to do is—” she gestured toward them, her warm smile now curving into something decidedly more wicked. “And that one time was only because Finan was here.”

  “You make a good point, my lady.”

  Her nose wrinkled. “Ana Maria, please.”

  He bowed. “Ana Maria, but only for while we are here. If I can’t teach you how to properly disarm a man bent on hurting you, I won’t have done my job. And since I am the man in the room at the moment, you likely will hurt me.”

  Her face softened. “Which I will feel terrible about, but it is far better to hurt a friend than to fail at hurting an enemy.”

  A friend. Were they friends? They were nearly family, because of how Nash felt about Sebastian, and by extension his older sister, who was about his own age. But actual, true friends?

  Had he ever been friends with a woman before?

  Well, he could answer that, since he had never been friends with anyone but Sebastian, Thaddeus, and Finan before.

  She must have read his expression. “We are friends, are we not?” Her tone was earnest, and he felt something twist inside. “That’s what I said to Sebastian and Thaddeus when I was railing at them.”

  He wished he had seen her ire. He loved how passionate she became.

  He nodded. “Yes. Friends who have done more than what friends do, but yes, friends.”

  Now her smile was nearly blinding. It was so full of warmth and trust and happiness. Had he ever been that combination of things before?

  No, because he had endeavored to do the opposite—keep everyone away from his heart except those he knew were strong enough to withstand him.

  Mute his life into a series of grays so that he would never feel the vividness of anything, because that kind of strong emotion would inevitably lead to an outburst of violence.

  That was truly a lowering thought.

  He’d always assumed he was relatively content—if not happy. But seeing her joy, watching as her expressions shifted from delight to concern to anger to caring in just a matter of moments, made him envious. His moods, if he were being honest, were usually grumpy and not quite as grumpy. Others might say he was frequently grumpiest, but they had never seen him release all of his roiling emotions, so they didn’t know just how grumpy, just how furious, he could be.

  Did he even know?

  He’d kept himself in check for so long he didn’t know which emotions were actually his, and which were pale imitations of what he allowed himself.

  “Nash?”

  “Mm.”

  She looked hesitant, and he braced himself for what she might say, even though she had just said they were friends, and smiled because of it. He was an idiot.

  “I want to do all this,” she said, gesturing to the room, “but I’d also like to do those other things.” Her cheeks turned even pinker. “If we could agree it means nothing beyond lessons. We know we cannot marry.”

  That last bit was said so firmly it made Nash want to ask why not? Which would be the stupidest thing he could say, given the current situation. And how Sebastian and Thaddeus felt.

  “But I want to do those things with a friend, someone who knows me and will understand what I want.”

  A few weeks ago he’d felt as though he barely knew her, and now she was saying he understood her? He barely understood himself.

  She shrugged. “Otherwise, it will all be left to chance depending on which of the flower senders I eventually accept.” Her scowl left no doubt as to what she thought about those gentlemen, which made Nash feel a strong sense of relief. “But there will be someone eventually that I might consider, and I’d rather know things firsthand rather than rely on the talk I heard belowstairs as a servant.”

  He had forgotten that. She would be so much more aware of what occurred between a man and a woman than other young ladies of her class due to her upbringing. Did it scare her? Worry her?

  Or perhaps pique her imagination?

  Because goodness knows his imagination was surely piqued, and he hadn’t spent much time thinking about it when he wasn’t doing it before. Now it seemed that was all he thought about when the person he was doing it with in his thoughts was her.

  “And besides,” she added, not realizing he’d already agreed in his mind, “you’re my friend, so I know you won’t expose me to any kind of scandal.”

  “It seems we have a bargain,” he said at last. “You’ll teach me about flowers, and I will teach you how to fight and how to fu—”

  “Nash!” she said, her eyes wide in shock.

  He put his hand over hers, the one that still rested on his arm, and drew her into his body, locking his gaze with hers. “Fuck, Ana Maria. You need to know how to say it if you’re going to do it.”

  She licked her lips, and her breath was coming faster. “Fuck,” she said at last, emphasizing the hard k at the end, a sound that seemed as though it shot straight to his cock. “You’ll teach me how to fight and fuck.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  You’ll teach me how to fight and fuck.

  She couldn’t believe she’d actually said the words, much less want them to happen.

  But she had, and she did, and now she had an additional mission: show Nash the beauty and wonder of flowers as he taught her the beauty and wonder of what could happen between two friends who were more than friends.

  Friends who were going to fuck.

  “Ana Maria!”

  Octavia snapped her fingers in front of her face, startling Ana Maria out of her reverie.

  “Of course,” she said with a smile. “I apologize, I was thinking of . . . something else.”

  Octavia grinned. “I can imagine. It is a good thing I am so busy with Miss Ivy’s, or I would be insisting on all the details.”

  The thought of that made Ana Maria turn tomato red.

 
“Ha!” Octavia pointed an accusing finger at her. “I knew it!” She rose up on her tiptoes and lowered her voice. “I find you very attractive, Lady Ana Maria. Nearly as enticing as my brandy, or not speaking when I’m spoken to.”

  Ana Maria collapsed into laughter at Octavia’s very credible imitation.

  The two ladies were taking afternoon tea in Ana Maria’s salon. Octavia used to have a tradition of taking tea with her older sister, but now that Ivy was married to Sebastian, the two of them always seemed to be “busy,” as Octavia reported with a waggle of her eyebrows and a gusty sigh.

  Like Ana Maria, Octavia occupied an in-between place in Society; she had been born a squire’s daughter, but had accompanied her sister to London to open a shockingly scandalous gambling den, so her reputation was not what it could have been.

  But on the other hand, she was the primary hostess of one of London’s most intriguing gambling clubs, so her reputation among certain types had soared.

  Ana Maria got the impression that Octavia didn’t care about things like reputations, anyway, so her working at the club suited her perfectly well.

  “But since I am purportedly a lady, I will not ask you about the enormous behemoth.”

  “Isn’t that redundant?” Ana Maria asked, reaching for a biscuit.

  Octavia gave an enthusiastic nod. “It is, but it suits, doesn’t it?”

  It did.

  But there was so much more to him than his size, though that sounded odd even in her own head. He was sweet, despite his protestations to the contrary; he was courteous, despite sometimes seeming like a giant at a miniature tea party; he was protective, as she knew from all of her interactions with him.

  “You’re mooning again, Ana Maria,” Octavia chided. “Shouldn’t we be discussing this evening?” Her eyes sparkled in anticipation.

  They were planning to attend a ball given by a not-so-polite member of Society, which meant that Octavia would be completely welcome. Ana Maria wanted to go because she was tired of having to dance with her multitude of suitors, all of whom talked obliquely about their hopes for a complacent wife with a large dowry.

  Ana Maria was always tempted to tell them that Thaddeus had changed his mind about her dowry to time just how long it would be before they excused themselves to find some other young unmarried lady to dance with—Lady Felicity, perhaps?