The Inconvenient Duchess

them.
    There would be a scene. It was better, when it came, that they were alone. There was no point in the servants knowing what a disaster the night had been.
    And would that it were just words he was bottling up. The line of his back as it advanced up the stairs in front of her was as rigid as an iron bar.
    What if she had provoked Marcus to violence? It was too late to claim that it was no fault of hers. That she had been tricked into it. That she had never meant him harm or disgrace. Who would he believe? Perhaps her, if she had not made it plain, in the library, that she thought she was in another man’s arms. It would be impossible, now, to make him believe that she was an innocent victim. She stopped at her own door with her hand on the knob.
    ‘Dismiss your maid.’
    ‘But…’ She reached to her bodice.
    ‘You will not need her tonight. Dismiss her and come to my room.’ He stalked past her to his own room and closed the door behind him.
    She went into her room and told a sleepy Polly that her services would not be needed, and the girl grinned at her and hurried away. If she saw the look in Miranda’s eyes, she mistook it for anticipatory nerves and not dawning terror.
    Miranda glanced around the room, looking for a solution. It would not do to lock the doors. To ignore his order tonight would make a bad situation even worse. Her knees felt weak.
    ‘I await you, madam.’ He was standing in the open door between the two rooms.
    She reached for the dressing gown draped over the foot of the bed.
    ‘You will not need it. Let it be and come to my room.’
    He turned and disappeared through the doorway, and she followed after.
    He had shed his coat and waistcoat, and his white shirt gleamed at her in the candlelight. She stepped in to the room, unsure of what was expected of her, but he ignored her to sit on the bed and pry off his boots and hose, which he tossed into a corner. He ripped at the cravat and pulled the shirt over his head, sending the linen sailing after the boots. Then he looked up at her expectantly.
    She stared at his body in the dim light. His chest was broad and smooth, the muscles bunched in his arms as he reached for the buttons on his breeches. Every move he made revealed the strength in him, as though a great energy lay waiting to be unleashed.
    He paused and glared up at her. ‘Well?’
    ‘Wh-what do you want from me?’
    ‘Nothing that you have not given freely elsewhere. The time for talking and waiting has ended. Take off your dress.’
    ‘I can’t. I can’t reach…’ She gestured to the closures and he sighed in impatience and strode across the room to her.
    She turned her back to him and felt the hairs on her neck rise. She stood still, holding her breath and felt his hands on the hooks, felt each one pop open and her bodice loosen and slip down her body. He laid a hand on the corset beneath it, and then wrapped one hand around her waist while the other tugged at the knotted laces and worked them loose with a series of sharp yanks. Then the tugging stopped and she heard him walk back across the carpet to the bed.
    She kept her back turned from him and eased the gownoff her shoulder, stepping out of it. She picked it up, straightening the fabric with her hand. She looked around the room for a place to hang it, perhaps a chair to drape it over.
    ‘Leave it.’
    She dropped it and stepped away, removing her slippers and stockings and leaving them beside the gown on the floor.
    ‘Turn around.’
    She turned towards him, eyes still focused on the ground.
    ‘Look at me when I’m talking to you.’
    Slowly, she raised her eyes to his. The breeches had followed the rest of his clothing and he lay on his side, head resting on an upraised arm. The muscles of his chest flowed gracefully to meet the muscles of his abdomen. And lower.
    ‘What are you waiting for? Take off the corset.’
    She made to turn away from him again and he said, ‘No more ridiculous displays of modesty. They do not impress me. If you are shy of me now, soon you will have no reason to be. Take off the corset.
    ‘I want to see you.’
    She loosened the laces the rest of the way and let it fall, fighting the urge to throw an arm over her bare breasts. She could hear his breathing change as he stared at her, and she looked into his eyes again.
    ‘And the rest. Take it off.’
    She reached behind her to loosen the clasp of the necklace.
    ‘Leave the emeralds on. And remember who you are.’
    Who she