“I should and I have. And you will accept my betrothal ring—a token of my esteem for you—with good grace.” He took the ring from the box and slid it onto Artemis’s slender ring finger. “There. It fits perfectly. And now everyone will know you are the Duke of Dartmoor’s fiancée.”
“Thank you.” Artemis’s cheeks were as red as her gown and the ring she now sported. As she turned it this way and that to admire the gemstones, they caught the late-afternoon sun pouring in through a nearby window and threw off brilliant glints of light. “I’ve never owned a piece of jewelry that’s quite so beautiful. Or expensive. I’m quite honored.” Her gaze, as warm as sunlit treacle, met his. “And touched.”
“Think nothing of it. Now”—he tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and escorted her out of the drawing room—“let us away before I decide to have my wicked way with you on your aunt’s settee.”
She laughed. “I wouldn’t mind if you did.”
“Wench.” He stopped and turned to face her. “You are…”
She smiled. “Enchanting? Enticing? Enthralling?”
“Yes. All of those things.” And then he kissed her, right in the middle of her aunt’s vestibule because he simply couldn’t resist. It was a soft, sensual, calculated kiss that spoke of his burning desire. The things he wanted to do with her in the heat of the night filled his head, and he had to pull away before he did drag her back into the drawing room or throw her over his shoulder and cart her back to his bed at Dartmoor House.
Egads, this woman was temptation personified. Perhaps she should have been named Aphrodite rather than Artemis. Or even Hecate because he was starting to suspect he’d been bewitched.
As he leapt into the seat beside Artemis in his tilbury carriage and then urged his bay gelding into a smart trot, he briefly let himself contemplate what it would actually be like to be married to a woman like her. The more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea even though she wasn’t precisely the sort of woman he’d initially had in mind for his duchess. She was outspoken; there was no denying it. She possessed radical views about womanhood—but he didn’t disagree with her on any of the points she’d raised in his presence. In a word, she was passionate.
And he liked that very much. Maybetoomuch.
If she decided to end their engagement, he realized he’d be deeply disappointed.
Now that was a sobering thought.
But maybe if he wooed Artemis, convinced her that marriage to him wouldn’t be such a bad thing, that she could have everything she wanted and more… She was such a fearless young woman, he had no doubts that becoming a duchess wouldn’t daunt her. He could well imagine her giving Queen Victoria herself a good run for her money.
No, he was getting ahead of himself. He didn’t just need a duchess; he wanted a wife who would also be a mother to Celeste and who’d willingly bear him an heir. And Artemis wasn’t sure that she wanted children. She was a free spirit who valued her independence above all else.
He’d best stamp out this budding warmth inside his chest before it flared into something uncontrollable. He needed to be more circumspect. Guarded.
Developing any sort of tender feelings for Miss Artemis Jones was not an option.
***
Artemis didn’t think she’d ever enjoyed herself quite so much. Seated beside the darkly handsome Duke of Dartmoor as they barreled through Hyde Park in his fast and light carriage, with the wind in her hair and the afternoon sun in her face, she almost felt as if she were in a dream.
Or to be more precise, someone else’s fairy-tale dream—a young schoolgirl’s romantic fantasy where true love existed and wishes came true.
At least one of her wishes would happen. Her college. When this wild, fantastical ride with Dominic was over, she would have that to sustain her in the years ahead.
Dominic reined in his horse beside a stand of beech trees not far from the Serpentine.
“What now, Your Grace?” Artemis asked.
“Other than creating a stir amongst the aristocratic hoi polloi when they see me promenading with the most beautiful woman in London, I have no plans.” Then a shadow crossed his countenance. “That’s not entirely true. I did want to talk to you about Celeste and when you would be willing to speak with her again. Sooner rather than later, if possible.”
“You’re worried about her.”
“Yes…” His brooding gaze wandered to the lake. “Celeste has been quite maudlin of late, mooning around the town house, barely speaking two words to me. I expected her to be upset after I confiscated her would-be suitor’s letter. But it’s worse than I ever anticipated. Miss Sharp came to me this morning and shared some intelligence that I found most disturbing. Apparently, Celeste has lost her appetite—she only picks at her food—and she’s not sleeping well. It’s like she’s suddenly become some sort of lovelorn wraith and”—he ran a hand down his face, his expression haggard—“it’s simply heartbreaking to witness.
“I keep telling myself it’s for the best. If the mysterious “T” was indeed a fortune-hunting ne’er-do-well, he’s probably moved on. I suspect Celeste somehow warned him that I’d uncovered their illicit liaison. Of course, if he now views her as a lost cause, he’ll no doubt be searching for new prey in fresh hunting grounds. But I can’t be sure, so that’s where you come in. Only…”
His chest rose and fell with a heavy sigh. “I’ve never seen Celeste in such low spirits before. Over the years, I’ve avoided speaking to her about my duty to remarry one day. Which has been a mistake on my part. She was only six years old when her mother passed, and of course, she loved her a great deal.” He shook his head. “I’m afraid I’ve been a coward for not broaching the subject of my obligation to wed again until now. Because of my own pain, I suppose.”
After another fraught pause, he caught Artemis’s gaze. “Even though Celeste seemed to warm to you after your first meeting, I’m concerned about how she will react when she learns that we are engaged and that you will be her stepmother. Well,mightbe her stepmother,” he amended with a wry smile. “I’m worried I’m going to inadvertently make things worse for her instead of better.”
A sliver of guilt penetrated Artemis’s heart at the thought she would be misleading Celeste. To gain her trust but then break it when she ended things with Dominic seemed unnecessarily cruel. Of course, that was not Artemis’s intention. And Dominichadsaid she could maintain her relationship with Celeste if one developed.
When all was said and done, she was trying to help an impressionable adolescent girl. She didn’t want Celeste to make the same mistakeshehad all of those years ago with Guy de Burgh. How ironic that particular cad was the girl’s uncle. “As to whether Celeste accepts me or not, I suppose we will just have to see what happens,” said Artemis gently. “Regardless, I will do my best to find out who this man is and if his apparent abandonment has led to this troubling bout of melancholy.”