The Inconvenient Duchess

realisation that he was observing her so intimately as she chose her moves. But she struggled to convince herself that this was his problem and not hers. And in the end it seemed to work for, after an hour and a half of intense play, she shouted, ‘Checkmate.’
    And then stifled her triumph and waited to see his reaction.
    He leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers, looking over them at her. ‘And now, if you apologise for beating me, as you seem about to, I shall throttle you, you impudent wench. I swear my mother would have looked elsewhere for my wife if she’d known what a delight you are to me. And now you blush to hear the truth. What would you have as a forfeit from me for losing this game?’
    ‘Nothing. Really. I had not intended to play for stakes.’
    ‘Because you feared what you might lose. But you won. Take your prize, whatever it may be.’
    She stared at him for a long time, in a kind of horrified fascination. She knew what she wanted. It was a kiss. A kisslike St John had given her before she’d had to lock herself in her room to escape. Only she did not want to have to escape from this man. She wanted the same uncontrollable seeking that had made her lie passive in the arms of another. And the thought made her skin flush with shame and a strange indescribable heat.
    She had promised to be truthful to him. What was she to say? Take me in your arms and kiss me like your brother did? She had promised him the truth. And there was no way she could give it to him.
    He was unnaturally still, watching her for any sign. And she could see by the tension in him and the heat in his eyes that he would give her everything he had, if she would but ask for it.
    Her eyes fell. ‘I do not know what I want.’
    ‘I think you do.’
    Her blood chilled. Could he see into her thoughts? A true lady would not want to be taken before the fire in the drawing room. Would be innocent of the shameful desires rising in her now. Images came to her head, of the things Cici had explained to her, things no decent woman would know. A wife should be an ignorant but willing pupil when she came to her husband’s bed. A proper woman would not feel her blood heating after a simple game of chess.
    ‘You are mistaken.’ The lie was shaky on her lips. ‘I do not know what I want, other than to do whatever will please you.’
    ‘Whatever will please me?’ He leaned closer to her and her breath caught in her throat. What had she just offered? Cici had told stories of silken scarves and honey and hinted that there were many strange games for jaded pallets. The thought should repel her, but instead curiosity burned inside her.
    ‘Yes. Marcus.’ She’d almost stumbled over his name again.
    ‘Ah, woman, there will be time, all the time in the world, a lifetime’s worth, to take my pleasure in you. But to begin, I wish to let you choose.’
    She trembled. ‘And I swear to you. I do not know what I want. Do as you will with me.’
    He sighed. And when he spoke his voice was gentle, but tired. ‘Very well. Perhaps it is still too soon for you. There will come a time when you will understand, when your heart and body will give you no choice in the matter. You will be sure of what you want. And it is then that I want you to come to me. And you will tell me when you know?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Very well. Then goodnight to you, my darling.’ And he reached for her hands, taking them gently in his. His thumbs rubbed against her palms and he smiled and brought them to his lips, kissing the backs of them before turning them over to kiss her lightly on each wrist.
    ‘Sleep well.’
    Her hands slipped out of his and she said a hurried goodnight before running into the hall. His kiss seemed to seep through her skin and into the blood beneath and course through her body until it reached her heart. It warmed her, and she felt that she was carrying him with her, deep inside. Sleep well? She had never felt so awake.

Chapter Twenty
    W hen she seated herself at breakfast, her husband was, as usual, working his way through a stack of letters. He glanced up and passed an elegant engraved card down the table to her.
    ‘Did you sleep well?’ he inquired.
    ‘Yes. Thank you.’ And it was yet another lie. She had tossed and turned all night. Thinking of hi
    If he was aware of her troubled mind as she drank her coffee, he concealed it well. ‘It seems we have been invited to our first ball. An old family friend. I am sure he and his wife