The Inconvenient Duchess

too well. It was a strike at his heart, as well as his pride. She was sure, before last night, that he had warmed to her and that things were to be easier between them.
    And he had responded, when she’d found him in the library. He’d responded with enthusiasm. She shuddered asdesire flooded her again. If it had been St John, would she have reacted as she had?
    St John’s expertise could never have overcome the hatred she felt for him. When she’d found Marcus, her heart had known what her mind did not, and she’d responded to his kisses. But how could she explain if Marcus wished to pretend that nothing had happened? And he still talked of children.
    It’s all he’s really interested in.
    Perhaps so. But if not love, there had been warmth before. And the sense that there could be more than breeding in the time they spent together in his bed. Last night had been brief and there had been pain, but he had not used her in cruelty. She remembered the touch of his hands, and his lips, on her body, and felt need growing inside her, driving out the fear. She would go back to him tonight, without the shadow between them and see if he truly meant to forget the ball.

    He kept good his promise and stayed away all day and into the evening, leaving her to dine alone. Perhaps he meant to forget by avoiding anything that reminded. Perhaps he intended to stay away for months at a time, visiting occasionally to try to get her with child.
    She gritted her teeth. Cici was right. The only way her position would be secure in the house was with a babe in arms. And if he intended to come home at all, she would be ready for him. She summoned Polly and requested a bath and her best nightrail. Then she sat at the edge of her bed and waited, listening for the telltale sounds from next door.
    The clock crept forward, hour by hour, and it was almost midnight when she was ready to give up. Perhaps, if she crept into his room through the adjoining door, he could find her in his own bed, if he came home.
    If.
    She would have to do something, she realised, or she would go mad wondering. She tested the doorknob and, as it had the first night, it gave in her hand. She pushed.
    He was already there, sitting on the edge of the bed with a brandy glass in his hand, staring out of the window.
    ‘Marcus?’ She stood in the doorway, hesitant to continue without an invitation to enter.
    ‘What do you want, Miranda?’
    What did she want? Why must he make everything so hard? ‘I thought… Did you want…? Will you be needing me tonight?’ Wonderful. She felt like a servant, waiting to be dismissed.
    He swirled the brandy in his glass. And smiled as he spoke. ‘I did not expect you. But if you persist in standing in the doorway like that, I will most certainly be needing you. The light from behind you renders that nightdress transparent.’
    ‘Oh.’ She took a step forward out of the light, closing the door behind her and then stopped, confused. He had been admiring her, which was a desirable result, and she’d put a stop to it by closing the door.
    ‘Is there something I can do for you, Miranda?’
    Yes, there was, but she was unsure exactly what. Cici would know what to do to work her charms on a man, but she’d never explained in any detail. She’d hinted that, once things got to the point of being in the bedroom and available, no further magic was necessary. ‘I thought, perhaps, if you were eager that I should conceive that it would be wise to try more than once.’
    The words struck him as funny and he roared with laughter, flopping back on to the bed, spilling the last of the brandyinto the sheets. ‘Do you, now? Well, then, madam. I wish that I hadn’t got foxed at the inn, for I can hardly manage my own boots. Lord knows how I’ll manage with you.’
    ‘What of your valet?’
    ‘Dismissed him for the night. Not fair, keepin’ the servants up all night because I’ve not got the sense to come to bed.’
    At last, this was something she understood. She stepped forward and knelt at his feet, tugging the boots down over his calf and off, and setting them aside. Then, she climbed up into the bed and retrieved the brandy glass, setting it on the bedside table. He sat up to watch her and she slipped her arms inside his jacket, pushed it down his shoulders and off, carrying it to the wardrobe to hang.
    When she came back to the bed for the waistcoat, he eased away from her, so she had to crawl on to the bed to retrieve it. She