Page 62 of Distracting the Duke

He wouldn’t have to marry her, of course. Because there would be no child. At no point in her marriage had she ever become pregnant. She was barren.

She should tell him, so he didn’t feel obligated to do the honorable thing. But she didn’t have the heart to spoil for herself what they had just shared together by bringing up such a depressing subject.

Tomorrow, after Marcus had spoken to Lord Stranraer and she knew where they stood. Then she would tell Marcus he was under no obligation to her.

None at all.

He helped her up. “I suggest you go straight to your chamber and get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“I look forward to it.” There was little hope of sleep, however. She would be going through their lovemaking in her mind. Revisiting every single, delicious minute.

Smiling, she reached up and pulled his head down for a kiss. The voice of her conscience had already been drowned out by the demands of her body, her mind, and her heart, and she felt deliciously wanton…and free.

This man was a revelation. Her feelings toward him, once they’d been released, were an epiphany. Now she understood him better, she knew he was all that she had ever wanted in a man.

He was the first to break their kiss, pulling away with a sigh. “You’d better go, my darling. Ned will be wearing a hole in the carpet pacing up and down while he waits to give me a piece of his mind. He’s rather old-fashioned in his ways. It’s what comes of spending too much time on his Scottish estates. Too cold to excite desire. Sweeting, we must talk more tomorrow.”

He opened the door for her, and she slipped into the dark passageway, heading for the staircase, thankful her legs were steady enough to carry her.

Chapter Thirty-Three

The following morning, Clara walked into the summer drawing room bearing a jug of water she’d brought for Ellie.

“Clara, what a delightful time I’m having!” announced her ward.

Ellie made such a charming picture, framed in a sunny window seat, arranging a selection of colorful blooms from Marcus’s flower garden in a wide-necked creamware vase. Who would ever blame him if he were still to choose her over dour, practical Clara?

Despite her body’s delicious languor, last night after she’d returned to her chamber, she pondered the conversation she’d had with Marcus after making love. He’d declared he would give her his name…but he hadn’t actually asked her to marry him. And he wouldn’t, once she told him she was barren. A duke needed an heir, and she could never give him one.

No, sweet, biddable Ellie would be a much better match for him.

Which broke Clara’s heart into a million pieces.

“I plan to make bigger sprays with lupins, delphiniums, and windflowers,” Ellie said cheerfully. “I shall put them in the empty fireplaces and on the floor where the dark patches are, and soon no one will notice there is any furniture missing.”

Clara gathered herself and smiled over at their ward. “What a good idea,” she said, though in truth, she wondered if the duke would be offended.

“Later, I’m to learn to milk a goat with the farm manager and the dairy maid,” Ellie said excitedly. “I wanted to milk a cow, but they said I should work up from small to large.”

Clara looked at her quizzically. “You wouldn’t be afraid?”

Ellie shook her head. “I declare, I’ll never be frightened of cows or bullocks again, so long as I have the duke by my side. Oh, wasn’t he magnificent? So strong. He kept me in his arms all the way to the downstairs retiring room, where the late duchess used to write her letters and menus and take a nap when she grew weary.”

It took Clara a moment to digest all this enthusiasm. She wasn’t used to Ellie being quite so voluble.

“Well, yes, he was,” Clara said. “Quite magnificent. But, surely, Philip or Lord Stranraer would have dealt with the cattle had they been closer. And I’m certain Lord Snettisham would have done the same.”

Ellie turned toward her, eyes bright. “Perhaps they would, but they didn’t. I can’t believe Uncle Philip would have carried me as far as Ulvercombe did. Lord Stranraer offered, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to be lifted by that great bear of a man. The duke was so solicitous afterward and didn’t seem to mind at all that I had dampened his coat lapels with my tears and crumpled the front of it holding on. I think I shall embroider him a handkerchief to make up for it.”

Clara swallowed a lump in her throat. “I’m sure he would like that. Your embroidery is lovely.”

Ellie had clearly lost her fear of the duke. Though the incident with the bullocks was days old, she still took every opportunity to refer to it.

It was also true that since then, Marcus had made every effort to keep her occupied and entertained, finding old games whose boxes needed mending, screens that needed repainting, and antique books that needed their bindings reglued.

All of this made Clara distinctly uneasy. For weeks, the family had encouraged Ellie to consider Marcus as her future husband. It was the whole purpose of this house party. Could she now disillusion the poor child and tell her to look elsewhere? Such as, perhaps, toward Lord Snettisham…? Was the handsome lord even interested in Ellie?

Of course, Marcus would have something to say on the matter. Clara was desperate to speak to him, to make her confession that there would be no children, and see his reaction. But the opportunity to do so still stubbornly refused to present itself.