Dukes Are Forever

by Anna Harrington

  “Well,” she insisted, “what do you want?”

  “You.”

  Her eyes widened. That wasn’t the answer she expected, but it was exactly what he wanted—Kate, body and soul, belonging only to him, pledging her life to him.

  He stalked slowly across the room to her, but to her credit, she didn’t retreat. Instead, she stood her ground, her eyes narrowing. “Stop playing games, Edward.”

  “I’m deadly serious.”

  “I won’t—”

  “Why, Katherine?” he demanded, jumping right to the heart of the matter.

  She knew what he was asking, and her shoulders lowered. “I told you. I won’t give up my medicine. They need me at Brambly.”

  “And I want you with me.” Another step closer, and he felt rather than heard her catch her breath at his persistence.

  She turned her face away, not daring to look at him. “You cannot change my mind, Edward.”

  “Is that why you’ve been keeping me from your bed?” He was close enough now to murmur the quiet accusation in her ear and to feel the resulting shiver fall through her. “Afraid I’ll seduce you into agreeing to marry me?”

  “No.” But her voice lacked conviction, and its trembling completely undercut her reply.

  That was exactly it, he knew. It had been a week since they’d last been intimate, and the way she closed her eyes, as if willing her body to shrink away from him even as she leaned closer, told him that she felt the absence of him as intensely as he did her.

  “We want each other, Kate.” When he placed his hands on her shoulders, then lightly caressed down her bare arms, goose bumps sprang up everywhere he touched…Amazing. “There’s no reason we can’t marry and take that pleasure whenever we want.”

  “That doesn’t signify—”

  “But it does.” A smile touched his lips at her obstinacy. Another featherlight caress, this time back up her arms, brushing his thumbs along the sides of her breasts as his hands slid upward. She whimpered so softly he almost didn’t hear her, and his cock twitched, already beginning to harden with the delicious pleasure-pain of arousal. “A significant part of a marriage, I should think.”

  “I don’t—”

  With a groan, he drew her soft body along the length of his and kissed her, urgent and openmouthed, and she melted weakly against him, grabbing for his waistcoat to fist it into her hands and pull him impossibly closer.

  At her reaction, a surge of adrenaline coursed through him with each tattoo beat of his pulse. He knew that feeling—the same feeling he always had when he was with her, since the first moment he laid eyes on her. He felt alive.

  “No other woman has ever done to me what you have.” He tore his mouth away from hers to nip his teeth along her jaw. He wanted to devour every inch of her, and the frustration of being kept from her only added to his urgent need to possess her.

  “Wh-what have I done?” she stammered, although at that moment he couldn’t have said whether her shaking was from hearing him admit his feelings or from the way his tongue plunged into her ear.

  “Make me want you this desperately.” He sank his teeth into her earlobe, and when he felt her moan shoot through him, he went instantly hard.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck, but even as she dug her fingertips into his hard muscles, she was careful to avoid the tender spot on his shoulder where the bullet had torn into him. And her concern made him even more desperate to have her.

  He slid his hands up her back and made quick work of undoing the fastenings of her dress. The gown was too tightly fit, too low cut for a shift. With nothing between her skin and the soft silk, he stripped the bodice down to her waist and dipped his head to lick at her nipple. She whimpered, her fingers combing through his hair as she arched toward him and tugged his head harder against her, thrusting her breast deeper into his mouth as he suckled greedily at her.

  “I want you for my wife, Kate.” He swept his mouth to her other breast as his hands moved down to cup her bottom.

  “You want to control me,” she corrected in a breathless pant. Despite her words, a soft mewling of need passed her lips, and he smiled devilishly. She wanted him as much as he wanted her.

  “Yes.” He lifted her against him, pressing his stiff cock into her belly so there would be no mistaking exactly how much he wanted her. How very much he wanted her to surrender to his control.

  Kate tensed, her hands releasing his waistcoat, and she pulled away to stare up into his eyes. Sadness darkened her face, and the look pierced straight through him.

  “I can’t—I can’t let you do that,” she whispered. “Edward…no.”

  His frustration reached its snapping point, and he shoved himself back with a curse and spun on his heels to move away. He kept half the room between them, not trusting himself at that moment not to charge back to her and seduce her into changing her mind.

  Damned woman! Stubborn, obstinate— Dear God, winning against the French had been easier than winning against her.

  She pulled her dress up to cover herself. “Edward, please understand.” She raised her chin, despite the glistening of her eyes. She was just as frustrated and upset as he was, but the little hellcat wouldn’t admit it. “I won’t give up my medical work.”

  His eyes narrowed on her as he studied her face, reading her emotions and the guilty flicker in her eyes, the way she bit her bottom lip—Augusta was right. There was more to her refusal than just her medicine.

  Well, if she persisted in claiming it was being a doctor that prevented her from marrying him, he’d give her exactly what she wanted. And then force the truth from her when she could no longer give that as an excuse.

  “Very well.” Stalking slowly toward her, he smiled at her, and apprehension marred her face at the sudden change in him. “If you marry me, you can keep practicing your medicine. You won’t have to stop helping the sick.”

  “Pardon?” She paled.

  “As a duchess, you’ll be expected to maintain a certain propriety, so there won’t be any more rides through storms to birth babies. But there are other ways you can continue your work.” Giving in to her demand—within reason—was the right decision anyway because he wanted her to be happy and he wanted her for his wife, yet he chose his words carefully, to be perfectly clear about the terms he was offering. “But you can hire a doctor for the village and oversee his practice, and there’s no reason why you can’t continue quietly with your experiments in the country. And in the city, you can be a hospital patroness. I won’t lie to you—the ton won’t make life easy for you. But it’s the only way for you to have both.” When she only stared up at him silently, he arched a brow. “I’m proposing a compromise, Kate—part duchess, part doctor. That was what you wanted, wasn’t it? Marriage if you could continue with your medicine.”

  As her lips parted delicately in stunned disbelief, he could see the thoughts spinning rapidly through her mind, saw her hand raise to press at her heart as a tormented darkness flickered in her eyes…

  “So you’ll marry me now.”

  She breathed, “No.”

  The single word pierced his chest like a knife, so painful it forced him back a step. Fresh pain tore at his gut. “Damn it, Kate! Why not?”

  Then she whispered the heartrending truth, her words little more than an anguished breath, “Because you don’t love me.”

  He froze and stared at her. Love? Was that what this was about?

  Of course, he didn’t love her. He cared for her—he would admit that, just as he’d admit that the darkness that had nearly consumed him for the past ten years was gone now, replaced by a peace he’d never known. Yet in his life, he’d told only one woman he loved her, and she’d betrayed him, rejecting not just his love but also who he was as a man and everything he’d worked so hard to become. And he’d nearly died from it. He’d wanted to die. Hell, he’d tried his damnedest to die. And nearly did.

  Kate wasn’t Jane, he knew that. He trusted her, desired her, enjoyed bei
ng with her…but he would never again position himself to be wounded the way Jane had hurt him.

  He shook his head. He would offer her marriage and a home together, children, and her medical work. He would protect her and care for her, give her every luxury money could buy, and create the best life possible for her.

  But he would never love her.

  “I care about you, Kate,” he said instead and saw the acute disappointment flash across her face. It wasn’t what she wanted to hear, but that was as close as he would ever let himself come to loving her. “And I want you with me because you make me happy. I will be a kind husband to you and a good father to our children.” He touched her chin and tilted her face up to look into her eyes. “Do you trust me?”

  She gave a jerking nod, but the wretched sadness he saw in her green eyes broke his heart.

  “Then let that be enough.”

  She shook her head and repeated, “You don’t love me.”

  Damnation! Why was she demanding love of him, when she didn’t feel the same? He blew out a harsh breath of frustration. “And you don’t love me!”

  For an agonizing moment, there was only silence…then she whispered breathlessly, “But I do.”

  He saw the flash of raw grief shudder through her, how her eyes watered with gathering tears, the look of utter abandonment and desolation marring her beautiful face…The air ripped from his lungs.

  Christ.

  Kate was in love with him.

  * * *

  For several moments, neither spoke, neither moved. She counted her slow breaths while she waited for him to answer her. To say he loved her, too. Or just say…anything.

  When he didn’t, she looked away from his incredulous stare, praying she had enough strength not to break down.

  She was such a fool! Of course, he didn’t love her. Why would he? Simply because she wanted it, like some wish on a starry night…Foolish, foolish! Her entire body pulsed hollow with pain. Excruciating! So hard she lost her breath and each heartbeat came like a hammer blow in her chest. She hadn’t imagined anyone could ever wound her this much simply by being silent.

  Forcing herself to breathe, she stepped away, and her hands shook as she smoothed them down the front of her dress with the pretense of pressing out the wrinkles. “It’s all right if you don’t feel the same,” she whispered, not daring to look at him. “I know you don’t, and I don’t expect you to.”

  “Kate,” he finally whispered, but nothing else came from his stunned lips.

  She shut her eyes tightly against his silence, but then, what else could he say except to lie and admit to feelings he didn’t have for her? He wanted to marry her, give her a family, protect her…Any woman would have been thrilled to receive such an offer.

  But it wasn’t enough for her. And it never would be.

  She drew a shaking breath and confessed, “My parents were forced to marry—my mother was increasing, you see.” For a moment, she let her hand rest against her belly, then dropped it away, not daring to wish for the wonderful miracle of having Edward’s baby inside her. “She loved my father to her dying breath.” She trembled at the painful memories, her voice quivering. “But he never loved her, and he made her life a living hell. He stole from her, said such hateful things, made horrible accusations…” She pressed her fingers against her mouth.

  Edward stepped up behind her and touched her arm, and for once, the heat of his fingers didn’t sooth or excite but pierced through to her heart. “Katherine, I am not like your father.”

  She shook her head, not knowing how to make him understand. “A married woman’s life is not her own. Everything she has and does is by her husband’s leave. If her husband doesn’t love her but she loves him—” She choked, a soft sob escaping from her lips. “It nearly destroyed my mother, Edward. I won’t live that life.”

  “I will never hurt you.” He slipped his arms around her and gently drew her back against him. “What can I do to reassure you?”

  Love me. But he didn’t, and she wasn’t certain he ever could.

  She slowly stepped out of his arms, and thankfully, he let her go without struggle. “If you can’t love me, then I won’t be your wife, Edward.”

  “Kate.” Her name was an anguished rasp. “Please.”

  She shook her head, the hot tears stinging at her lashes preventing any more words from coming. But truly, what was left to say, except the admission of love he would never give?

  The moment she’d met him, he’d inverted her world until it was impossible to tell up from down, forward from backward, all of it swirling together. He had caused her so much suffering and torment, so much anger, but he’d also revealed the tenderness and vulnerability in himself, the kindness and loyalty that made her fall in love with him. Even when he’d sent her to the moors, he’d exiled her for his own protection, to keep his heart from breaking. She’d forgiven him for that and accepted why he’d done it, knowing he’d never do it again…

  But she couldn’t accept not being loved.

  “I think you should leave now,” she said as firmly as her trembling voice allowed.

  He nodded slowly, but the firm nod of resolve couldn’t hide from her eyes the anguish that flitted across his face, so fleeting that anyone else would have missed it.

  But not her. She’d come to know him so well that he could hide none of his feelings from her now behind that carefully stoic face he showed to the world like a mask. The misery inside him was just as great as that swirling through her, but there was no help for it. He couldn’t force himself to love her, just as she couldn’t force herself to stop loving him.

  “Come here,” he ordered quietly.

  Her lips parted, surprised, and her eyes blinked rapidly to clear her blurry eyes as she stared at him. He wanted to…hold her? “Pardon?”

  “I have to fasten up your dress,” he explained.

  “Oh.” Disappointment ripped her breath away that she was denied this final time in his arms, but she somehow found the strength to whisper, “Of course.”

  He frowned as she turned her back to him, and he began to secure her dress, to hide all traces that he’d just bared her to the waist and had his mouth on her. The heat of his fingers next to her bare skin was torture, but thank God he was careful not to let his fingers accidentally brush against her as he fastened the last of the tiny hooks. She couldn’t have borne it.

  When he finished straightening her, she wordlessly returned to her dressing table and reached for the combs she’d been holding when he’d barged inside. Once she was seated, he straightened his shoulders, took a deep breath, and opened the door.

  Mary waited outside in the hallway, and she hurried over to Kate to finish her coiffure as if they’d never been interrupted, completely ignoring Edward now as she concentrated on Kate’s hair, obviously more afraid of Kate’s appearing before Augusta with curls out of place than of any lack of propriety that might have occurred between them.

  As he stepped into the hall and paused to glance back at her, her eyes found his in the mirror, holding them for just a moment before looking away, unable to bear the anger and pain she saw in him. “Would you close the door, please, Mary?”

  “Yes, miss.” The maid hesitated as she saw Edward still lingering in the hallway, then bit her lip in silent apology and shut the door.

  Mary reached to take the combs from her hands and worked in silence for several minutes to secure the last pins into place. From the way the little maid avoided making eye contact with her, Kate knew she suspected…but she was too kind to make any comment or show any look of pity.

  “Perfect.” Kate summoned all the strength within her to force a smile as Mary finished her hair and stepped back. “Would you please go downstairs and tell the countess that I’m going to be a few minutes longer?”

  “Yes, miss.” Mary left quickly, the door closing behind her with a soft click.

  Alone, Kate stared at her reflection. For a moment, she didn’t recognize herself. The wo
man in the mirror was dressed so elegantly in silks and jewels, her hair swept into a shining glory on her head. Regal. Beautiful—except that she was crying, tears rolling down her pale cheeks. She looked so sad, filled with so much grief, as if mourning her own death. At least Kate didn’t have to look at her for very long, because her own eyes were blurring so much she could no longer see anything.

  It was over. All the happiness she’d known with Edward, all the joy she’d felt in his arms, all the wonderful possibilities of a future with him…All of it, gone.

  She squeezed her eyes shut against the agonizing pain and somehow found the will to stop the tears, if not the grief. And it was grief, because she was grieving over her lost future with Edward with as much wretchedness as when she lost her mother.

  Oh, she’d been a fool! To ever hope…but there was no hope now. To love a man who did not love her, even after they’d made themselves so vulnerable to each other—the anguish was excruciating, and to continue on like this would only destroy her the same way it destroyed her mother.

  Edward was never going to love her, and she couldn’t remain here any longer. She needed to leave. To return to her life at Brambly, to her work caring for the servants and the villagers, and find a way to carry on, as if she’d never met him. And somehow make that life enough.

  Tonight she would go to the ball and pretend everything was fine. She owed it to Augusta to put in a proper appearance, and she cared for the woman too much not to give her this one night of showing her off as Edward’s ward and restoring the Westover reputation.

  And tomorrow, she would return to Brambly, but she would never again be with Edward. Would the compensation be enough—her freedom for her heart?

  Behind her, the door opened, and she heard not Mary’s soft footsteps but a man’s heavy tread. She choked on her tears, fresh pain shattering through her.

  Edward. He’d come back, most likely to try to convince her one last time to change her mind, perhaps even to seduce her into surrendering and agreeing to marry him. Despite the anguish burning inside her, a shiver of heat fell through her. Just as it always would for this man. She would always love him, even if he never loved her.