Not that the prospect of spending every future day with him, in his arms, in his bed, wasn’t what her heart ached for, but how would it work? He was a duke. She wasn’t prepared to be a duchess.
Nick might loathe his ducal responsibilities, but he had to know that marrying a blueblooded lady and providing an heir to the Tremayne dukedom was one of them. Perhaps the most important of all.
She’d known last night that the decision to be with him would be irrevocable, and she wouldn’t take back a single moment, even if she could.
“He must do what’s right by you, Mina.” Colin came forward and placed a hand on her arm.
“I need to speak to him.”
“Yes.” Nick spoke the single word from the threshold. “We need to talk. Alone.”
Mina had no notion how long Nick had been standing in the doorway. She only knew that the sound of his voice sent shivers across her skin. Her body responded to him differently now, as if some part of her was more alive when he was near.
“Would you excuse us, Mr. Fairchild? Downstairs, you’ll find a ticket purchased for your return to Sussex. There’s a hansom waiting out front to deliver you to the station.” The entire time Nick spoke to Colin, he kept his gaze fixed on Mina.
She didn’t miss how his eyes kept flickering down to her mouth. Each spot where his gaze lit, she felt a gentle pressure, like the brush of his lips against her skin.
“I am not leaving this room without Mina.” Colin stepped too close to Nick, a brawl-sparking distance. But Nick didn’t spare him a glance. He kept his gaze on Mina.
“You are, Colin. Please go home,” she urged. “I promise to come back by nightfall.” She lifted an eyebrow at Nick in question.
He nodded. “Mina and I will return this afternoon.”
“Then it’s settled?” Colin sounded breathless and utterly relieved. “Lord Huntley convinced you?”
Before Nick could answer, Mina approached her cousin.
“Colin, come and call at Enderley tomorrow. We’ll speak then.” She kissed him on the cheek and stepped away. She was done with his attempt to save her from her own resolve.
Finally, Colin relented. When he’d gone, Nick closed the door and waited.
She could read nothing in his expression but desire, and it set off sparks inside her. Suddenly, she wished she hadn’t donned so many clothes.
The moment she started toward him, he began to speak.
“We have much to discuss.”
Mina kept on until her chest was pressed against his. He tipped his head down to hold her gaze.
“I’d prefer that you kiss me.” She followed the edge of his mouth with her finger. His lips were full and flushed and bee-stung from the countless kisses they’d exchanged in the dark.
Taking her finger between his lips, he suckled her fingertip before releasing it. Then he cupped her face in his hands and lowered his mouth to hers. She thought the kiss might be perfunctory, but the moment their lips met, she knew they could never be that way with each other again.
She loved that the taste of him was familiar now, that she knew how to kiss him to make a moan emerge from deep in the back of his throat.
When they were breathless, he turned with her, bracing her against the door, the hard length of him nudging the spot where she wanted him most.
“You don’t have to do it,” she said between kisses.
He bit gently at her neck. “At this point, I’m not sure if I can stop.” He laved the skin he’d bitten with his tongue and began dragging her skirt up.
“I meant marriage.”
His breathing was ragged, and he didn’t stop touching her, at least. But he tensed, his shoulder muscles hard as stone under her fingers.
“I know that Lord Huntley spoke to you.”
He lifted his head, but he wouldn’t look at her. He fixed his gaze on the panel of door next to her head. “You’d say no if I asked?”
“No. Yes. I don’t know. You haven’t asked.”
Nick’s insides went from raging need to icy misery in a heartbeat.
All the way back to his chamber, he’d rehearsed ways to broach the topic. Ways to ask Mina to be his wife. He’d done battle with himself. She deserved a far better man than him. But he was enough of a selfish bastard that he could never imagine letting her go.
He didn’t live a life suited to matrimony. His days and nights were consumed by Lyon’s, and he’d never shared a bed with anyone in his life, aside from the extraordinary peace he’d found beside Mina for a few hours on this too short night.
She was a creature of the countryside, of racing across meadows on horseback and managing an estate where she cared more about others’ needs than her own.
She’d be a bird in a cage at Lyon’s. He could provide her luxurious surroundings, but not the open air and endless stretch of land she’d been born to. Everything that mattered to her was at Enderley, and the very thought of the place brought back memories he still wanted to forget.
“Nick?”
He hated the worried frown on her face, the pinch between her brows, the uncertain way she pursed her mouth. She deserved to have happiness and the home that she desired.
That, he could do. He might not be a good man, but he was a duke. Duke of the only place in England she loved.
An idea took hold in his mind. A means of securing her happiness while giving him more than he could ever deserve.
He took her hands in his, stroked his thumbs over her knuckles, noted the ink smudges on her fingers, the indentation from where she held her pen.
“Marry me, Mina.” His voice quaked, and he was fairly certain the ground was cracking beneath his feet, judging by how steady his legs felt.
“You’re asking me.” She was blinking, not truly looking at him, or anything. Just blinking as if he’d shocked her. “You’re truly saying the words.”
“Shall I try again?”
She nibbled her lower lip and lines of hesitation pinched her brow. “You’ve been forced into this, haven’t you?”
“No one forces me into anything.” He notched his chin up.
She retreated, slipping her hands from his body and stepping away. Nick reached for her. “Where are you going?”
“I can’t think.”
“Then don’t think. Just say yes.”
“I’m confused, Nick. This feels wrong.”
He let go of her hand and she took another step away. That’s when he knew. He couldn’t let her go. Even a few inches between them felt too far.
“I’ll give you everything you want.” Nick had heard of men dying because their hearts seized while they were engaged in the most mundane tasks. Proposing wasn’t mundane for him, but judging by the wrenching pain behind his ribs, he was no longer certain he’d live to hear her answer.
“Do you know what I truly want?” There was such hopefulness in her honeyed brown eyes.
“Yes.” This part was easy. Of Mina’s desires, he had no doubts. “Marry me and Enderley is yours. Live there. Improve it. Refurbish the estate from head to toe. Whatever funds you need, you’ll have them.”
She reared back, a look of wonder softening her features. But then the frown came back, more fiercely than before.
“You can hire more staff. Select the best artists to paint fresh murals in the ballroom. Fill the stables, if you like. Order a new carriage.” That part he would insist on himself.
Her mouth slackened. Her hands hung motionless at her sides.
Nick didn’t know what else to offer. Fine clothes? Jewels? Baubles didn’t seem Mina’s style.
“Redecorate the library. Purchase whatever books you please. Add new shelves full of them, if you like.”
Nick stopped talking because he wanted with all of his soul to hear her speak. Three letters. One little word. A single breath. He’d never wanted to hear yes more in his life.
She bowed her head.
Nick’s body buzzed with nervous anticipation. He had no doubt she was composing some
polite reply, but he dreaded that it would not be the answer he needed to hear.
When she looked up, her eyes were glistening. “And you?”
“Me?”
“Where will you be while I’m at Enderley?”
“Here at Lyon’s.” He swallowed hard before adding the rest. “I’ll visit you when I’m able, and if you’d be willing, I’d like you here.” Always. “As often as you wish to come to London.”
She licked her lips. He could see her pondering, almost hear the clockwork gears of her sharp mind sifting the matter.
“We could purchase a townhouse,” he added, the thought that should have been obvious to him coming clearer. A duchess did not live in the bowels of a gentlemen’s club. “In Mayfair or Belgravia. You choose.”
“So . . .” she started, but didn’t finish the thought.
The tenterhooks Nick hung on began to tear at his insides. “So?”
“This is to be a very practical arrangement?”
“Absolutely.” Nick knew how she loved practical solutions. He would give her the most sensible marriage in the history of wedlock if it would win her.
“You need an heir.”
“I don’t care about that.” He swiped a hand through the air, pushing that obstacle away. She had to know that he didn’t want her as a broodmare. The Tremayne lineage could burn in hell as far as he was concerned.
Unless . . . “Do you want children?”
“Up until a few hours ago, I believed I’d die a spinster.” She gave him a sad little smile that nearly broke him in two. With a longing gaze at the bed, she added, “But we must think rationally. As your duchess, producing a son would be my duty.”
His cock twitched to life. Suddenly he wanted nothing so much as to devote himself earnestly to producing an heir. He imagined ways of starting immediately—taking her on the bed, near the bed, against the bedpost.
She approached until they were toe to toe.
“If I’m in Sussex . . .” Her palm came down on his midsection, and Nick let out a tiny gasp of relief to have her touching him again. “And you’re here in London.” She trailed her fingers down his row of shirt buttons, her nails clicking on each one. “Then that becomes a tricky proposition.” With one searching slide of her hand, she found how ready he was for her. She shaped his hardened length boldly, gaze fixed on his.
“Mina.” He breathed her name and that was all he could manage before he bent and claimed her lips. Cradling her neck, he pulled her closer, kissed her hungrily. She stroked him until he feared he’d spill. “I need your answer.”
She released him, then pressed her palm low on his belly. “I don’t know what answer I should give.”
Nick kissed her cheek. “Yes.” Then the corner of her mouth. “Tell me yes.”
She shook her head, moving her lips away from his.
He caught her chin, held her gaze, prayed she could see that he’d laid himself bare before her.
“Please,” he said softly. “What more can I give you?”
“You’ve offered me so much.” Her hand came up, caressing his scarred cheek. “More than anyone would say I deserve.” She inhaled sharply, as if trying to catch her breath. “But a part of me will always be that girl who loves fairy tales.”
“Fill the library with them.” Yes, he knew that was part of her and thanked the gods for her childhood love of fanciful stories. Perhaps it was why she might be willing to bind herself to a monster.
“Love.” She waited, breathing in short, shallow breaths. “That’s the only thing you didn’t offer me. I’m afraid I don’t wish to marry without it. If we wed, will there be love?”
The pain that clutched at his chest a moment before became a Herculean fist around his heart, smashing the organ to a pulp. Nick’s throat wouldn’t work. His mind emptied. All he could see was Mina and sense the future he wanted with her slipping through his fingers.
The word was easy enough to speak, but this wasn’t a bluff. He refused to put any cards on the table that he didn’t truly mean to play. Everything he had, he’d gladly give her, but he knew she was asking for something more. A fairy-tale prince with a noble heart and romantic words flowing easily from his tongue.
He could never be that man.
Love made men weak and turned some into raving madmen. Love brought men to their knees.
He was prepared to give Mina anything she wanted, but all of him? To be utterly defenseless and keep none of the walls he’d built around himself—to protect himself—intact?
That he wouldn’t do for anyone.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Mina hadn’t imagined anything could hurt as badly as the loss of her father. But this was worse, because Nick wasn’t gone. He was standing right in front of her, and yet he was so far away.
He couldn’t tell her that he loved her. In fact, he said nothing at all and only gave a tight twist of his head.
Tears threatened and she turned, desperate to compose herself. Blubbering wouldn’t help. Never let your struggles be known. Her father’s voice rang in her ears.
Then Nick’s voice, soft and deep. “I’ll give you everything I have, Mina. Please answer.”
She sniffed and faced him. “I am honored by your—”
“No. Don’t do that. No niceties between us. Tell me to go to hell, but spare me your politely couched rejection.”
“It’s not a rejection.”
“Then you’ll marry me?” His head snapped up.
An answer welled up inside her, like a living thing demanding to get out. Yes, yes. Marry a duke? Become a duchess when she had no claim to the title through breeding or blood? What woman wouldn’t embrace such a proposal with both hands?
But as perfect as the hours had been in Nick’s arms, something about this felt terribly wrong. As if he’d offered her a beautiful gilded box with nothing inside. A shell of what she truly wanted, with nothing at its heart. He proposed a marriage of separation. Living as wedded strangers, growing apart rather than getting to know each other better.
She couldn’t bear that sort of marriage. Not with Nick.
Her father’s voice intruded. Better one bird in hand than ten in the woods.
He’d liked aphorisms. Sayings he drilled into her head. All in an attempt to teach qualities he wished her to possess. There were so many lessons he’d hoped she might learn. One had to do with taking what was before you rather than wishing for more.
Now Nick stood in front of her, looking gorgeous in his rumpled, untucked shirt, with stubble shadowing his jaw, hope glowing in his extraordinary eyes. A duke of the realm who deigned to make an estate steward’s daughter his duchess. A man who was offering her Enderley, not as a place of duty, but as a home that was the only belonging she’d ever known.
And foolishly, selfishly, she wanted more.
“I don’t—”
A knock sounded at the door.
Nick stomped over and nearly ripped the thick slab of wood from its hinges. “What?”
“Your carriage is ready, sir.” Mr. Spencer kept his voice low. “Shall I send up a breakfast tray before you depart?”
“No.” Mina fought to keep her voice steady. “Thank you, but I’d like to leave as soon as possible.”
Nick’s jaw worked back and forth. “We’ll be up directly.” He stared at the floor, speaking to both of them but unwilling to look either of them in the eyes.
When the club manager had gone, Nick slammed the door behind him. He kept his hand flat on the polished wood, his back to her.
“Don’t answer now,” he said roughly. “This is all very sudden.”
He tipped her a glance over his shoulder. A smile curved his mouth but didn’t touch his eyes.
“Neither of us planned what happened last evening. I want you to be sure, Mina. Take a couple of days to consider and give me your answer once we’re back at Enderley.”
“I didn’t think you’d go back.” The time he’d vowed to spend there was almost over, and Mina knew it
was the last place he wished to be. “Why are you returning?”
“Because you are.” His lips trembled when he faced her again. There was a wobble in his chin that betrayed the coolness in his gaze. “Also, I’ve left commitments unfinished. Repair projects in the village and that bloody country dance I promised Mrs. Shepard I’d attend.”
“And will you attend Lady Claxton’s ball too?”
“I won’t go unless you do.” An inky brow winged up, and his grin slid into a smirk. He seemed to enjoy issuing the challenge, but he didn’t understand Barrowmere society as well as she did.
“I received no invitation to Lady Claxton’s ball. Nor would I ever. There’s no place for me in her circle.”
“There could be.” The look of challenge remained a moment longer, and then he approached. “I need to wash and prepare for our trip.”
The faded aroma of his cologne and unique scent of his skin made her mouth water. All Mina truly wished to do was reach for him. Feel his arms around her. Forget about words and return to the closeness they’d shared, intimacies she’d never imagined.
“Ring for coffee or tea or whatever you like.” He bent and brushed a soft kiss against her cheek. “I’ll be quick.”
He collected his waistcoat and boots before heading to the dressing room, and Mina rang for tea for both of them.
A short time later a servant brought a tray and departed, almost the same moment Nick emerged clean-shaven from the dressing room. Mina took her first sip of tea and tried not to gape. He’d donned a waistcoat the shade of peacock feathers. The color brought out the green and blue in his eyes.
“I poured you some tea.”
“Thank you.” His hand was shaking when he palmed the cup, lifted the dainty thing to his lips, and tipped the contents back in one gulp. “Shall we head off?”
There was a buzzing energy about him. Nervousness that heightened her own anxiousness. She didn’t know why she was in such a rush to return to the countryside. There’d be no private moments with him once they were back. At Enderley, their roles were defined. But she wasn’t quite sure where she belonged anymore.
Going back to just being his steward was unthinkable.
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