“I’m directing us to the southeast side of the estate, to the conservatory, which is much closer than the castle.”
The sky rumbled, and the drops became more insistent. Thankfully, within a few minutes, they were able to disembark the boat and hurried along a cobbled path toward a large half-brick, half-glass enclosure that loomed in the distance.
They entered the conservatory, and the lush, sultry scent of moisture and fragrant blooms beckoned her deeper into the room. A wide stone path led into the shadowed greenery deep inside the conservatory, and she could see that it opened into an extensive, lavish garden.
“It is wonderfully warm,” she said on a pleased sigh.
The boiler there was lit, the air redolent with the many blossoms. A wrought-iron bench was pushed against a corner, and a large oblong table was in the center of the room with pruning shears atop its surface.
A soft noise had her turning around. He held up a blanket. “Will you permit me once again to be your lady’s maid?”
There was that provoking humor in his eyes again, but there was something else there, too: need and an awakening hunger. An undeniable awareness filled Kitty, and a languorous feeling spread through her limbs. We must be wicked and improper…
She moved closer to him, and he wrapped the blanket around her sodden clothes, warming her even more. Kitty spread her hands over his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin under her fingers. It was then she realized the duke closed his eyes whenever she touched him. A slight caress. A bold brush of her fingers along his chin. Each moment was as if he savored her.
Kiss me again, Alexander. The words were so close to emerging that she could feel the desperate weight on her tongue. But the idea of voicing such a wanton thought mortified her.
“I can feel your heart racing,” he murmured, his expression one of passionate need.
She suddenly could not hold his eyes. Would you always look at me so? Please, God, her irrepressible heart prayed. Let Alexander look at me in this manner—with hunger, tender desire, and admiration—always.
Her forehead fell to his shoulder, and he cupped the back of her neck firmly, as if encouraging her to stay there forever.
“I am so tempted,” she whispered into the crook of his neck. “So very tempted.” The words emerged like a desperate sob, and she closed her eyes against the aching needs within them.
A finger slipped under her chin and lifted her face to his. “To do what?” His gaze held hers, and his voice was tender and rough.
“To be wicked…and free…and to take something for myself without worrying about consequences, and I want to do it with you.”
Something hot and hungry flared in his expression. It tightened, his cheekbones becoming more pronounced as his lashes lowered over his eyes. Lifting his regard to her, he brushed a lock of damp hair gently behind her ears.
“What consequences do you worry about?”
She laughed lightly. “As indelicate as it seemed, my mother warned her girls about wicked, licentious rakes leaving unwanted babies in our bellies, and I assure you, we are suitably filled with fears of ruin and disgrace.”
His eyes went dark with indefinable emotions. “I am impotent, Kitty.”
Her heart lurched at his serious tone. “I know you said—”
“I see you do not perceive its meaning. I am unable to make love with a woman properly. My licentious raking days are long gone. I am unable to father children. If I could…I believe I would make you my duchess.”
The world fell away from beneath her feet, and it was only he who anchored her.
“You’re mad,” she whispered. She felt shaken. Hopeful. Delighted. Aroused.
“Perhaps. I want to strip you, lay your heart and mind bare before me, and make your secrets my own.”
“A terrifying proposition,” she murmured, scanning the nuances of his expression. She pushed past the shocking revelation he would make her his duchess if he could. And… “Your impotence, this is the result of your fall?”
“Yes.”
“I am so sorry, Alexander.” An ache rose in her throat as she tried to imagine the desire of having children being taken away from her. What woman did not dream of a husband, children, a happy home?
Even though Kitty had other dreams in her heart, there still lingered that plan that said at the end of it all, perhaps she would have to settle with a man who was only a companion, but she would be surrounded by smart and rowdy children until it was her time to leave the world.
“There is no need to be sorry,” he said. “I’ve had ten long years to accept it. My heart does not ache for the loss of something I no longer have. Nor do I hunger for it.”
She stared at him in mute shock. No hunger for a family or children. Could anyone truly ever be contented with being alone? “Do you not hunger for a family? A large one with much laughter?”