Oh. “And will you allow me to comfort you when needed?” She had no idea where the provocatively bold thought came from, but he seemed too reserved. She felt a fleeting sense of triumph that she had pierced his armor when shock flared in his gaze before he lowered his eyes…to her lips.
A curious heat filled Adel. Was he perhaps thinking of kissing her? As if he had heard her wanton thoughts he dipped his head even further. The duke visibly shuddered and the reaction was quiet enthralling. “Why do you tremble?”
A soft curse hissed from him, and she blushed at the vulgarity.
Chapter Seven
“Your utterances, Your Grace, are ungentlemanly.”
“Censure from a young lady that climbed into a man’s bed with flagrant disregard for society’s expectation… bloody hell,” Edmond incised quite deliberately.
She stared at him in ill-concealed shock. “You disapprove of me.”
Earlier he had spoken at length to his host and hostess, and despite Lady Gladstone’s anger, she had previously thought Miss Adeline a sensible young lady, a good friend, and companion to her daughter. A better man than he would have felt guilty for taking advantage of her embarrassing situation, but he’d never deluded himself as to being good. “Forgive my rudeness,” he said, stepping even farther away. “I do not.”
Her eyes were widened, and her face was flushed becomingly. Too becomingly.
He would have to be ruthless in guarding his response to this female. If he were to marry her and keep his sanity, there would be no more kisses or talks of her providing comfort. Though he had belatedly realized she had not meant the comfort of being buried deep inside of what he knew would be the tightest sheath.
Her spine snapped straight, stretching the thin muslin of her dress across her ample but well-shaped breasts. He gritted his teeth and turned away, disgusted with his lack of restraint. He strolled to the door and braced his forehead against its frame. What was he doing? The feelings she had stirred inside him, the spark of interest to learn her likes and dislikes was bloody unwelcome. So why was he still pressing his suit? She is unwilling. He should let her go to face the consequences of her actions.
His heart twisted. It startled Edmond to realize he cared. The idea of society cutting her had fury surging in his gut. Miss Adeline had no notion of what it was like to walk into a ballroom and know that everyone present whispered about her. A simple stroll down the street or a ride in Hyde Park would have onlookers desperate to gawk. Then a flurry of voices would rise, as they rehashed every perceived infraction, until whatever they gossiped about traversed embellishment and became laughably ridiculous.
It’s the mad duke of Wolverton. The whispers had been unceasing. He doubted many even knew why he’d been given the moniker, and it had taken very little for it to be assigned. After all, the ton could not comprehend a union made because of genuine sentiments. Edmond had loved his wife, and he had been mocked for making a rare love match. He’d doted on her…and even his friends had tried to encourage him to take a mistress. He’d retreated to the country with Maryann to raise their children, and it was hinted that he had departed his common sense.
Dukes and duchesses did not raise and nurture their own brood. Nursemaids and governesses did. Yet his Maryann had refused all offers of assistance, bathing her own babes and even insisting on feeding them herself, which had scandalized Edmond’s mother.
When his wife had died, because of him…how he had grieved and railed, how the pain had tormented him for months, which is why he had shunned society and frivolous diversions. Because society and his friends had not been able to understand, they ins
isted he was mad. Vapid insufferable fools. A mockery of a smile twisted Edmond’s lips. Mayhap he was indeed a madman to even contemplate taking a woman so scandalously bold and improper, yet so frustratingly enticing.
Perhaps he should enter the marriage mart and try his hands at wooing some blushing debutant once more. Bile rose in his throat as his heart instinctively rejected the idea. It would be hypocritical to go through all that smiling, caressing, and dancing to court another woman. He would never let that be a part of him again. That part was long dead, and he hardly believed it could be resurrected. The pain of losing Maryann and his son had been gut wrenching and inescapable.
Perhaps despite her appeal it was damn fortunate Miss Adeline had climbed into his bed and saved him from the farce of the marriage mart.
“Your Grace?”
He pushed away from the door and faced her.
“I would speak with Mr. Atwood first.”
Edmond bit back a short oath. “I would not dream to stand in the path of true love,” he said with sarcasm.
Her expression grew cautious. “Then I may leave?”
“If you insist you would prefer to wed Mr. Atwood, I urge you to go to him. Your father will be eager for you to form any alliance, to stem the tide of gossips that will swirl around your name for months to come. A hasty marriage will be in your best interest.”
She looked briefly disconcerted at that pronouncement, and then she smoothed her features. “Thank you, Your Grace,” she said softly.
He inclined his head and she rushed from the library as if the devil were nipping at her heels. In truth, Edmond had to admit he must seem quite like the devil right now. He knew very well what Mr. Atwood’s reaction to the rumors already spreading like wildfire would be.
In the short span of time it had taken him to dress and meet Lord and Lady Gladstone in the drawing room, from the whispers he gleaned Miss Adeline had long been his mistress and might now already be carrying his child.
Good God, the lady had no idea what he had tried to save her from.
No notion. She would be made to suffer the humiliation of vicious gossips for months, and the simplest act could revive it for years to come. But with him…there would be no intimacy or opening for sentiments. In fact, Edmond was resolved to stay away from her bed. But she would be a duchess.
Edmond grimaced. Was he truly the better choice?