Her gaze narrowed, not with malice but with question.
Would she ask him anything?
∫ ∫ ∫
1 4
Valiant stared up into Anthony’s face and wondered if she were being a fool to even consider speaking of such intimacies with him.
She did, however, realized that she’d just been given a grand opportunity. Here was a man who’d bedded many women. Perhaps, he was the very fountain of information she needed. She couldn’t ask Everly, Brinley, or even Beatrix about sex, because they were involved with her brothers and while she was happy for them, there were lines she could never cross.
So that left Anthony. A man. Was he even capable of answering any of her questions?
His gaze fixed on her. “Allow me to reassure you that it’s more than likely that I have the answers to the questions in your mind.”
Did he?
He must have sensed the debate on her face.
“This isn’t right. Men and women do not discuss these things.”
“They do.” His gray eyes were reassuring. “Pleasure is all I’ve ever discussed with the women who come to me.”
She didn’t like hearing that. “And exactly how many women have come to you?”
“Many,” he said with a serious expression. “Which I hope you realize will help you get your answer.”
She understood his reasoning, yet she was stuck on the ‘many.’ “How many?”
His gray eyes remained direct. “Do you truly wish to know exactly how many women have been in my bed?”
Her cheeks stung with heat. “When you say it like that…” She couldn’t believe that was the question she’d been asking him.
She couldn’t believe they were having this discussion at all. It was highly inappropriate.
And yet, how long had she been waiting for answers? Years? So many lonely years. Did she truly wish to face another year without knowing? Without taking the opportunity before her?
Perhaps, asking one question wouldn’t hurt.
She tried to place the words correctly in her mind before speaking aloud. “Is it always perfect for you?”
“Perfect?” he asked.
She thought some more. “You’ve had so many women. Did every coupling result in pleasure for you?”
“No,” he said immediately. “With certain women, it came naturally. With others, it took a few practices and maneuvers to get it right. With some, it did not work at all.”
“Why?” she asked swiftly. “Why didn’t it work with those others?” Her heart began to flutter in her chest. Were there other women out there like her? Was she truly not alone?
“Some were selfish,” he said. “Coupling should be about both giving and taking. There are those content to take and leave their partner to see to their own needs.”
She believed she understood what he was implying. There was to be some sort of completion at the end of the coupling. She’d heard other women speak of it quietly. Over the years, many had assumed Valiant was frequently being pleasured by her husband. He made that impression at parties, a doting husband.
And he had doted on her, though she’d not deserved it.
Her heart fell in despair. She hadn’t been a taker. In fact, she hadn’t wanted to take anything from her husband. That was the issue.
Anthony wasn’t finished. “Other women wanted things I was not willing to do.”
That sounded interesting. “Like what?”
Anthony hit her with a full grin. “That is not a conversation you are ready for.”
She believed him. Still. “Tell me.”
His smile slowly fell. “Some women want pain. I chose not to give it to them.”
Pain.
That sounded familiar. “They wanted pain?”
She realized how telling her statement was with Anthony’s next question.
“You mean, your husband brought you pain you hadn’t asked for?” His eyes went cold.
Valiant drew away.
He closed his eyes. “No. Forget I asked. We were having a very productive conversation.” Anthony opened his eyes. “Let us move on.” But his eyes still gleamed like twin storms.
Valiant shook her head. “No, I think I’ve learned enough for one day.”
He nodded, sighed, and leaned back into the couch. He looked relaxed, much closer to the blasé lord she was used to. “Very well.”
She was surprised how easily he’d let the matter go.
He smiled again. “You’ve had enough for today, but there will be many other occasions for us to speak. I shall always remain open to you.”
Though she shouldn’t have felt reassured by his words, she did.
Yet instead of saying thank you, she changed the subject. “Am I your first call of the day?”
“First call?” he asked with eyes that warmed by the second. “You’re my only call.”
She smiled like a silly girl. Oh, she was being quite foolish by spending so much time in his company. “When shall you call on Miss Milton?”
He didn’t even blink. “Never.”
Valiant’s spine snapped straight. “Never? Surely, you made arrangements to see her again.”
He shook his head and reached for her hand. “She’s not for me.” His thumb brushed her knuckles.
Desire licked up her hand like flames.
But then he took his hand away from her and straightened. A second later, footsteps rang out before Asher came into the room. Clearly, Anthony had heard them and had decided to place some space between them.
∫ ∫ ∫
1 5
Anthony and Valiant stood as her brother looked between them. Everly soon joined the less-than-merry group. Neither looked surprised at seeing him, which meant the butler had already informed them of his presence. Asher’s expression was reserved while Everly greeted him warmly.
“Asher,” Valiant said. “How is your morning going?”
“Well,” her brother said. His eyes were steady on Anthony.
“Is there anything you need?” Valiant’s clear dismissal surprised everyone.
That got Asher’s attention. He lifted a brow. “If I need anything, I’ll be sure to ring for a servant.” And then, in a stubborn move, he took up a chair in the room.
“Very well.” Valiant took Anthony’s arm.
He turned to her and found her head to be tilted toward him.
“Your Grace, have you seen the garden?” Valiant asked.
Anthony didn’t know what to do. He did know that he didn’t want the Duke of Ayers for an enemy.
“Oh, yes, you must go and see the garden,” Everly said, coming farther into the room.
“Everly,” her husband said in warning.
Valiant put some pressure on his arm, but she didn’t try and pull him from the room. She only held his eyes and waited.
Anthony turned to Asher. “Don’t fret. I’ll be sure to return her as I found her.”
Asher gripped the arms of the chair and gave him a hard look. “See that you do.”
He bowed and strolled from the room with Valiant.
“Why did you do that?” Valiant asked when they were in the hall.
“Why did I do what?” he asked. “Tell your brother that I would return you as you are? Because I plan to.”
They were out on the terrace and down into the garden before she spoke again. “I’m surprised you didn’t challenge him.”
The thought hadn’t even crossed his mind… which he thought to be strange. Why hadn’t he wished to provoke Asher further? Perhaps, he simply wished for fewer obstacles in his hunt for Valiant.
“I don’t challenge everyone,” he finally said.
“You challenged me.” She stopped at a bench that seemed to be set in a place that allowed one to see the entire garden.
He turned to her and smiled. “And looked how well that worked out for me.”
She blushed and turned away. She let him go as they sat.
Ayers’ garden was lovely, bu
t after seeing the one Lady Goody kept, he found most gardens wanting.
“My father enjoyed this garden,” Valiant said. “I often found him sitting right here, gazing out with a smile on his face. I believe him to have been thinking about my mother after she died.”
Anthony had heard about Lord and Lady Richard Curbain. There were those in the ton who’d found them vulgar for clearly being so in love with one another. Anthony had heard the pair had danced together often at balls, saving nearly every waltz for each other, which was something one did not do.
“Did your mother garden?” Anthony asked.
Valiant shook her head. “But she smelled of roses. Always.” She smiled. “Like this garden.”
“I’ll have to take you to Lady Goody’s garden. It’s quite enchanting.”
Her smile faded a little. “You’re friends with Lady Goody?”
He shrugged. “I wouldn’t call us friends.”
Valiant turned away. Her voice was somber. “I hear she is beautiful.”
He regretted bringing the garden or the lady up. He wasn’t sure why Valiant was displeased but knew he didn’t like it. He tried to return the conversation back to where it had been. “What is your favorite flower?”
The corners of her mouth tilted up as she turned to him. “Lily of the Valley. My mother would string the white buds through my hair when I was younger.”
Without thought, he reached up and touched the blond curl that had escaped her bonnet and stroked the skin at the back of her nape.
She gasped, and her brows furrowed. “How do you do that?”
“Do what?” He didn’t stop touching her. Couldn’t.
She held his gaze. “I can’t think when you…” She pressed her lips together and frowned. “You’re very good.”
He lifted a brow and cupped the back of her neck. “I have no idea what you’re insinuating. Why don’t you have whatever conversation you just had in your head aloud?”
She pressed her lips together in an annoyed look. Then her shoulders relaxed, but she said nothing.
He took a guess. “You can’t think clearly when I touch you. Or rather, all you can think about is bedding me.”
Her eyes went round then narrowed. “I’m sure you invoke passion in every woman you touch.”
“Perhaps.”
When she tried to pull away, he locked his hand around her tighter until she stopped.
Then he leaned forward and whispered, “But no woman has ever invoked it this much in me. You bring out a level of heat in me I never knew existed. I crave you above all things.”
Instead of a blush, she turned white. “You shouldn’t.” This time. when she tried to pull away, he let her go, but only because tears were building in her eyes.
What had gone wrong? Why was he so lost when it came to Valiant? He’d thought he’d mastered women long ago, but Valiant often left him guessing at his every move and her own.
When she’d become distant at the mention of Lady Goody, he’d have liked to believe her jealous, but such a thought was ridiculous since she was currently trying to marry him to Miss Milton, nearly pushing him from her home so that he would go to the young woman.
“You are a very complex woman,” he said, dropping his hand.
She sighed and gave him a sad smile. “I’m glad you’ve finally realized that.”
He frowned. “That doesn’t mean I plan to let you go.” He had to close his mouth then, because the next words past his lips would have been, “You are mine.” He’d barely shut his mouth in time.
Where had this fierce possessiveness come from?
“I shall have you,” he finally said.
Color swiftly returned to her face and the confusion to her eyes. “And what if I don’t want to?”
“You want to right now,” he told her. Of that, he was sure.
Her body went stiff, but she didn’t deny his words. “But would you force me if I said no?”
Force her? Anthony had been accused of many things but never that. The very thought… Rage whispered across his skin and slipped into his veins. It burned quietly yet more pure than any he’d ever experienced before.
Valiant must have realized her mistake, because she reached out to him. “Anthony, wait.”
He stood and moved away. How fitting that she’d use his Christian name a moment after she accused him of being a rapist.
As though he’d hurt someone as innocent as Valiant, a woman who’d been hurt before. Did she truly think him that sort of monster?
This anger he felt was familiar and latched on to him with a vise, unrelentingly in its hold.
He was enraged and couldn’t remember the last time a woman had driven him this far.
Then he recalled his first fiancée. That upset had led to his father’s death.
He needed to leave.
Valiant looked worried as she stood. “Oh, Anthony. I don’t why I said that. I don’t actually believe you’d ever...”
Yet she’d asked the question as though it were a sensible thing to do.
“I need to go.” Before he did something foolish. This was his fault. He’d opened himself to her. He’d allowed her to hurt him.
What a fool he’d been.
“Anthony.” She tried to reach him again.
And again, he took a step back. “I’ll visit Miss Milton and inform you how it goes.” He’d write. He’d not visit her again. That had been a mistake as well.
She dropped her hands and straightened. Her eyes fell before she lifted her gaze and nodded. “Very well.”
He turned and left at a quick pace then, running from what, he didn’t know.
∫ ∫ ∫
1 6
He was at the theatre.
Valiant saw him from across the room and the very sight arrested her steps.
The Duke of Cartelle stood speaking with a group of men and women. Everything about him seemed relaxed. The indifference he was known to show was gone as he smiled at something a woman said.
She realized now why he’d been so distant in the past. They’d not accepted him. Now, they did.
There was a shuffle around them, and he turned to smile at someone else.
Miss Milton was on his arm and had said something to him to make him laugh.
Their courtship seemed to be getting on better than his letter had implied.
She’d received one the day after he’d left Asher’s townhouse. It had been short and precise.
It had also asked her not to visit him again.
She’d hurt him.
Alone in her room, as she’d read his note, she’d wept silently. He’d been her first male friend since Noah, and she’d pushed him away in the ugliest way.
She’d just been so frightened by how much she wanted him. She’d not even meant the words. She’d simply asked if he’d be able to control himself, because she was slowly losing the ability to do so herself.
She wanted him and that scared her, because she was certain that if she bedded him, he’d see her for the failure that she was.
She hadn’t been able to please Noah, and because she couldn’t, she’d encouraged him to bed other women.
She was the reason her husband had been unfaithful. She had no one to blame but herself.
Valiant had loved Noah, but not in the way a woman should love her husband.
In the end, she’d looked at him like a distant cousin.
How utterly pitiful.
“Valiant, are you coming?” Beatrix asked as she came to stand by her. She looked in the direction Valiant was gazing, and her eyes widened. “Oh. It’s Cartelle and Miss Milton. The match looks good.”
It looked good to Valiant as well. She should be happy.
Yet she wasn’t.
“Do you wish to say hello?” Beatrix asked.
Valiant shook her head and turned toward the red-carpeted stairs that led to their box. The entire theatre was red with gold threaded into the wallpaper and bronze accent lamps. Anthony would not wan
t her to approach. She knew that. It had been five days since he’d run from her in the garden. She’d thought of little else since.
“Valiant.” Beatrix caught up. “What’s the matter? You’ve been quiet for days. We all thought you’d enjoy the play.”
Her family had been discussing her? All day, they’d run around emitting excitement over tonight’s event.
Asher had even asked if she were ready to return to Beaumont House. Did he think Noah’s death still haunted her?
They made it to the end of the hall that led to Asher’s box before Beatrix stopped her with a hand. They were alone for the most part, yet she lowered her voice and asked, “Is it Anthony? Did he do something to you?” Her friend’s gaze was like a weight on her.
“No. He did nothing wrong.” A second later, Valiant whispered, “It was me.”
“You?” Beatrix looked startled, then concerned. “What happened?”
Valiant licked her lips. She’d not spoken to anyone about it. She’d been too ashamed. She wasn’t sure if she wished to discuss it now. Beatrix, out of everyone else in her family, knew Anthony the best. In fact, it was likely Beatrix and her brother were the only people who knew him at all.
What would Beatrix think of her when Valiant told her what she’d said?
“Valiant, you can talk to me about anything.” And then Beatrix asked, “Do you think me in love in Anthony? Is that why you don’t discuss him with me?”
“No!” Valiant was surprised. “I know you love Hero.” She knew it. Otherwise, she’d never have made the promise she had to Anthony two years ago. She was surprised Beatrix was aware that Valiant avoided discussing him with her more than she did with Brinley and Everly. “I know who holds your affection.”
Beatrix visibly relaxed. “Then tell me what happened. I might be able to help.”
Could she?
Valiant licked her lips. Where to start?
The voices of their relatives flowed from the other side of the curtain that divided them. Then Hero appeared, and he looked between them before settling on Beatrix. “I was wondering where you were. The play is about to begin.”
The Last Duke (The Valiant Love Regency Romance) (A Historical Romance Book) Page 9