Before I could eavesdrop on any more gossip about him, before he could approach me, Harris, Manly's combination butler and valet, tapped him lightly on the shoulder and whispered in his ear.

Manly's face lit up. "Ladies and gentlemen, friends and family, dinner is served. It's time to adjourn to the dining room." He took my arm and led me through the crowd.

I felt like the young bride of an old king as our guests followed us. I kept my eyes ahead and focused on smiling and fawning over my fiancé. But I felt his gaze on me.

The enormously long dining table was set with valuable antique china, heirloom silver, and classic crystal, each place setting exacting and precise. And at odds with the rough medieval nature of the table and room. The table was rough-hewn wood. The chairs sturdy antiques with mixed cushions. The ceiling was open beam. The walls gray brick. A huge medieval fireplace was on one wall, a rusty sword hanging over it. Battle gear and armory, animal heads, and trophies decorated the walls. At one end of the room hung a faded tapestry.

Besides the light of the fire, sturdy candles provided most of the lighting on the table and in sconces along the walls, aided only by scant few dimmed electric lights. The chandelier was made from antlers. Stepping into the room was almost like stepping into a past century when the castle, and Manly, had been at their prime.

As the duchess, I would be expected to sit at the foot of the long table and Manly at its head. But I wasn't the duchess yet. I got a reprieve. Manly had his place at the head of the table. I was to be seated, fittingly enough, at his right hand.

The table was set with place cards. People walked the table looking for their names. Manly was old school. He liked to follow the traditions of his youth. People were seated by rank and for the pleasure of each other's company. His two ancient duke friends, Axe and Hardly, were seated on his left, separated by Lady Ellen, a middle-aged woman who was a lady by birth, the daughter of an earl. Before I could pull my chair out, it slid out for me.

"May I?" His voice was just as sensual and deep as it had been in the garden.

My heart stopped. My mouth went dry as I looked over my shoulder at him.

Manly's face clouded as he looked past me to the man holding my chair out for me. "You're late."

He laughed. "My apologies, Uncle."

Uncle?

"You know I'm not a slave to schedules. Business called."

Manly's expression hardened. "Bliss, darling, I don't believe you've met my grandnephew and heir, Renton Sattler."

Heir? He was the horrible, odious heir? The moneygrubbing heir who would besmirch the title and family name and sell the estate if it ever fell into his possession?

I turned to face him and met his eyes, trying to keep the shock from showing in mine. I lifted my chin to show him I wasn't afraid of him. "Actually, we have met. He rescued me in the garden when the heel of my shoe snapped off. But we haven't been introduced." Suddenly it was important to get that information out in the open before I could be blackmailed with it.

"Ren," Renton said. "Everyone calls me Ren. And what shall I call you? Aunt?"

The insolence in him was almost as intoxicating as my Perfect Hundred. Insolence had been my weapon against my mother long enough that I appreciated it when wielded so effectively against familial authority. "Bliss will do."

"Bliss. Happy name." He indicated my chair. "Allow me."

I turned and sat as he held my chair and helped me scoot in. I still couldn't get over it. He was the infamous heir, the one Manly despised so much that he was desperate to marry at the last hour of life and produce a new heir by any means possible.

I was even more stunned when Ren took his place next to me. There was no way Manly would have seated Ren so near him or me. And Mom knew better. The look on Manly's face confirmed my suspicion. I glanced at the place card. Ren's name was elegantly written on it in perfect calligraphy. And if I didn't miss my guess, Ren had swapped it with someone else's. I wondered how that guest was taking the perceived slight. I wondered, too, whose company I was supposed to have had the pleasure of instead.

The staff wasted no time serving the salad course. The meal was only four courses—salad, soup, entrée, and dessert. Even at that, we were pushing it. Manly would be ready for bed by the end of it.

"The greens were grown right here on the estate," Manly said to Lady Ellen. "And the pheasant and fish for the entrée, my gamekeeper is responsible. Almost everything in the meal is from the estate—the honey, the milk, the apples, the meat. Everything else is locally sourced." He reached over and patted my hand. "Next year we'll have better crops. It's part of my plan to make the estate self-sufficient and self-supporting." He beamed at me.

I forced a smile. I had bigger plans than self-sufficiency. We needed cash. Next to me, Ren had turned to the beautiful woman on his right. Head bent, he was deep in conversation with her. They laughed together like old friends. Jealousy is an ugly beast in any shade. But what I unreasonably felt was the deepest pea green.

Manly's statement caught Ren's attention. "You mean to turn the estate into a farm, then, Uncle? I suppose all you need is a few serfs to do the job."

Manly, who was usually so unflappable, was easy prey for Ren. Manly's face clouded over. "Better that than a caravan park or a housing development." His voice dripped with contempt for the idea. Not one precious acre of the estate should be sold off.

"Caravan park?" Ren laughed. "Who gave you that idea? But a plat of sustainable housing on the outer edge of the estate on the currently unusable acres of land would only benefit the community. There's a shortage of good, affordable housing here. There's no available land to build on that's not subject to undue regulations. Without housing and development, the village will wither and die. If you want the village to thrive, you'll have to make concessions." Ren sounded calm and looked amused, but there was steel in his eyes. His lips turned up into a smirk.

I braced myself. He was about to poke the bear again. One prod wasn't enough?

"The sale would fund an architectural upgrade to the castle—"

"You'll turn my castle in to a bloody piece of modern crap over my dead body." Manly pounded his fist on the table with surprising strength, cutting off Ren.

I jumped. The force shook our end of the table. The water in my goblet sloshed. Yes, this was why Manly hated his heir. Manly wanted the castle and estate preserved as it was, not modernized, bits and pieces sold off. And, of course, in Manly's mind, it was gauche to discuss money at dinner. It was an insult to insinuate that Manly's finances were insufficient to provide for the estate.

Ren grinned and raised an eyebrow. If I hadn't been Manly's bride-to-be, I might even have smiled at Ren's implication. Manly's dead body was a looming specter. At his age, he was living on borrowed time as it was.

The air was so tense I was tempted to cut it with my knife. If Mom had been in Manly's seat, I would have waved my table knife around in the air, just for fun. But the humor would have been lost on Manly right now.

"Manly, old darling, old and young have always had conflicting ideas." Lady Ellen's tone was soothing and reassuring. She smiled at me. "Your legacy is safe."

Beside me, I felt Ren seething. When he turned his gaze to me, his eyes were dark and hard. He balled his fist in his lap.

He hates me, I thought. I'm standing in the way of everything he thinks is rightfully his.

A chill ran down my spine. My heart squeezed. I had terrible taste in men, always had.

Ren sneered. "Is it?" There was that hungry look again, the one that undressed me. The one that wanted me. Lust, raw and angry, shone on his face. But he was careful to maneuver so that only I could see it.

I turned away from him and said to the Duke of Axton, "Duke, you've been around for nearly as long as Manly. And tasted almost as much scotch. Tell me, honestly, is my Perfect Hundred not the best scotch you've ever had?"

My diversionary tactic worked magnificently. Once you got the dukes and surrounding men talking scotch, there was no stopping them.

Ren sighed in disgust and turned back to flirt with the woman to his right. We made a point of ignoring each other through the rest of the meal. Manly and Ren didn't speak to each other, either. The conversation between everyone else flowed pleasantly. There was plenty of laughter and sparkling conversation. Lady Ellen was very kind and offered me all kinds of help and advice. But as I kept up pretenses, I was keenly aware of Ren next to me. And hated myself for it.

No reasonable person likes to be disliked, especially just for existing. But to be hated by a man I was drawn to with such magnetism felt like a crack in my soul. On the other hand, I was probably safer this way. No chance of me falling into temptation. Ren's hatred was my punishment for lusting after him on the eve of my wedding.

It was customary for guests to wait to excuse themselves until the host rose and signaled the meal was over. But as soon as dessert was served, Ren scooted his chair back, setting his napkin on the table. "You must excuse me, Uncle. I have a mountain of work still to do. I want to be fresh for the big day tomorrow. Please accept my good wishes. You're the luckiest of men to have such a beautiful bride-to-be." Ren sounded sincere, but it was ruined by the amused sneer he flashed me.

I had to give it to him—he was a brilliant actor.

Manly wasn't fooled, but he kept his expression benign. He nodded to his nephew.

Ren turned and took my hand. "I'm looking forward to having such a lovely new great-aunt." Ren leaned down and kissed my cheek. As he did, he whispered, his breath hot in my ear, a sensual caress, "Watch yourself. I always get what I want. And I don't fight fair."

My breath caught. What did Ren want? Me? Or the castle? Or both?

I expected him to stride out of the room with a flourish. Instead, he went around the table, floating between guests, saying a few words to each person, laughing, wishing them good night. Manly turned away, unable to watch his nephew's shenanigans. I had to pry my gaze away from Ren. Every move he made was graceful and sensuous. It was hard not to stare at the beautiful, hard lines of his body. If I weren't careful, Manly would sense my attraction to Ren.

Manly took my hand. "Don't let Ren upset you, Bliss. There's nothing he can do to disrupt our plans." He brought my hand to his dry lips and kissed it. Much as I shouldn't have compared, the chills I felt at Manly's touch had nothing to do with pleasure. "I would, however, like a private word before bed."

"Yes, of course, my darling duke." I managed to make my voice smooth and calm. But I couldn't help thinking of the theme of hundreds of love songs. Married to an old man with lips as dry as dust. Dust to dust. Ash to ashes. And hands as cold as ice.

Manly excused himself as soon as it looked like most of the guests had finished their desserts. "Party on without us. Don't let the bedtime of an old man disrupt your fun." He stood and held out his hand to me. "Bliss, if you wouldn't mind walking with me."

The Duke of Hardison was on his feet and held my chair back for me, an old gentleman to the end.

I rose and took Manly's hand.

"Thank you all for coming to celebrate with us on the eve of the most momentous day of my life," Manly said. "Until the morning."

We walked arm in arm down the long corridor. I was sure his pride had taken a hit asking me to walk with him. But without me, or someone, to support him, the long walk and the flight of stairs to his second-floor suite would have been too much. And he had wanted a word.

Manly's butler was waiting for him in his suite. Harris helped settle Manly in his favorite chair. It wasn't easy for Manly to get comfortable these days, and the long day had been hard on him. Manly sent his faithful manservant away, asking for a few minutes of privacy with me.

"Of course, your grace. Text me when you're ready for me." With that, Harris departed.

Manly patted the upholstered chair next to him. "Sit, please." He began coughing.

I poured him a glass of water and brought it to him, hovering. The youthful glow he'd had earlier in the day was gone, replaced with hollow cheeks, dark circles beneath his eyes, and a tired look of resignation.

"Thank you." He indicated the chair again and took a deep breath to stifle another cough. "When you get old, everything chokes you up." He frowned.

I sat and pulled my chair closer to his, taking his hand. "You have something you want to tell me?"

He smiled softly, crinkling his lined face. "Oh, Bliss, even your name makes me happy." He patted my hand and took it in his. "I wish I could make you as happy as you make me." He raked his gaze over me. From a young man, the look would have been flattering, even hot.

I fought to suppress a shudder. At one time, Manly had been a ladies' man, the man women wanted—charming, rich, and titled. From what I'd heard, his appeal had lasted into his sixties when he'd married his last wife, the one before me. Even now, he had the mechanics of how to run his gaze over a woman in the most flirtatious way possible down. But at this point, skill level was moot. His aged body and face kept the look from being anything more than slightly amusing.

Lust clearly glittered in his eyes. And something more. I would have called it love if I'd had the nerve. But I was in denial. I didn't want his love—not romantic love, anyway. Affection I could handle.

"We have an arrangement that suits us both," he said. "I know that as well as anything." He hesitated. "On this last night of our freedom, I wanted to set things straight. I've been a coward until now, but no couple should go into their marriage under false pretenses." He licked his dry lips and took another sip of water.

I looked at him with concern, my heart hammering. I wanted to pull my hand away, look away, run away. But I forced myself to hold his gaze. My woman's intuition warned me I didn't want to hear what he had to say. That it would change the nature of the relationship I'd agreed to and prepared myself for. But destiny would march on and I was backed into a corner. I knew what I wanted and what price I would pay. I steeled myself to hear him out and arranged my face into a placid expression.

"Over the course of my long life, I've loved many women and had fun with many more. I had three wives and dozens of mistresses. One-night stands. Short affairs and long." He got a faraway look in his eyes and lapsed into silence, as he was prone to do, sometimes even dozing off for a few seconds and losing his train of thought.

I was actually hoping this was one of those times.

He came back to the present too quickly. His voice was raspy and soft with emotion as he continued. "One would think I'd be content with that. By any tabulation, I've had more than my share. But my heart has always been its own instrument. Easy to fall in love. Easy to fall out. Easy to run away with itself."

He squeezed my hand, repositioning it between both of his. "You might think that I've become a foolish old man. That my old heart has become weak and sentimental. That I'm grasping for the last bit of something that will make me feel alive. But I know my own heart. And you would be wrong. I have never felt like this before. I have never known love like this before. This deep. This poignant."

He looked almost guilty, and way too hopeful, as he stared into my eyes. "I love you, Bliss. With every part of my being. With every breath I have left."

I stiffened.

He lowered his gaze, smart enough not to try to read my expression, and laughed to himself, or at himself, shaking his head. I was glad he couldn't meet my gaze and see the sadness, sympathy, and panic in mine. I didn't love him back, not like that.

"You can't imagine the agony I'm in, being young of mind and old of body. Knowing this body repulses you. Knowing you can't accept my love. Longing for you. Aching for you with an urgency I've never felt for anyone else. Knowing that even if you were willing, I couldn't do with you what I imagine, what I'd like to do. What I could in my prime. I want you more than I can remember wanting any woman in my very long life."

This was so horribly awkward. And unexpected. I'd really had no idea he felt this way. "Manly, I—"

"Don't." He patted my hand gently, like I was a child. "You don't have to explain. I know you don't love me. I know you don't want me, not like I want you. That isn't part of the bargain. And if I'm honest, I can't say I blame you. If our ages were reversed"—he hazarded a glance at me—"I daresay the feelings would be reversed. As a young man, I would never have had the courage to marry a woman more than seventy years my senior. I would have been disgusted at the mere thought. You're braver and more determined than I am or ever was." He paused and took a breath.

"No," he said. "I'm superficial. That's what they say. Maybe it's true. Even as I aged, I had a penchant for young women of a certain age. Your age. I've continued to grow old, but the wives I take are always young. People think it's just lust. But it's as much the youthful mind and spirit I appreciate as a beautiful body." He swallowed hard. "I don't blame you for being repulsed. It's not shallow. It's natural."

There was a beat of silence. I was stunned. I didn't know what to say.

"Don't worry, my dear, I won't force myself on you. Not that I could." He laughed at himself. The sound was hollow and heartbreaking. "Of course, if you saw your way…" He lifted an eyebrow, looking old and lecherous.

I stiffened and went cold.

He laughed at himself again. "Ah." He swallowed hard. His shriveled Adam's apple bobbed, sticking out horribly in his old throat. "Sometimes I look in the mirror and startle myself. Who is that old fool looking back at me? In my mind, I'm still in my prime." He patted my hand again. "I admire you for the courage of your convictions. For the courage to fight convention to get what you want."

"Duke, you and I are kindred spirits there," I said as gently as I could. "That's the fun part of this arrangement."

He laughed, really laughed this time. "And that's part of why I fell in love with you. If the age gap wasn't so great, we would have been perfect for each other."

"Yes." I really did agree with him there. If he'd been closer to my age, we might have been a fantastic match. I could have fallen in love with him. "You might be right."

He glanced sheepishly at me again. "Now that you know how I feel, does it change things? If you want out of this bargain, I'll release you. Even at this late hour."

I shook my head vehemently. "Never. Not if you can restrain your passion." I raised an eyebrow, trying to lighten the mood.

He looked relieved and smiled at my joke, but the sadness and regret didn't leave his eyes. "You don't feel like a baby machine? I never want you to feel like a broodmare."

Trying to provide an heir was part of our deal.

I shook my head. "I love children. Love them. I've always wanted children before I got too old," I said. "Right now, there's no one else I want to breed with anyway."

"Damned by faint praise." He got a rueful look on his old face.

Once again, I regretted not knowing the young Manly. "Having a little duke of my own is my dream, too. I can raise him as I like. Be a completely different kind of mom from my mother. He'll be my boy." I really did want someone to love.

The duke nodded. "Artificial insemination, then?"

"That's what we agreed," I said. "It still makes the most sense. It's the safest way to get a boy. We may only get one chance."

"Yes," he said, his expression like that of a little boy who's been denied a cookie. "With my younger seed, spun in a centrifuge to separate the Ys from the Xs, and frozen for this occasion."

He'd started having sperm frozen in his late eighties. He paused. "Not the most romantic story to tell a child."

"Why would I tell our boy how he was conceived?" I asked.

The duke got a hopeful look. "You'll let him think his old man still had it at a hundred?"

I laughed. "Why not?"

He shot me a grateful look. "And as we've discussed, no one must ever know this marriage was never consummated officially."

"Cross my heart," I said, withdrawing my hand from his to make the gesture. "I'd be in more trouble than you would." I shrugged. "Fortunately, no one is going to be in to watch us do the deed or check the sheets in the morning, are they?"

Manly cackled. "Certainly not."

"Good thing," I said. "I haven't been a virgin for years."

"Now that that's out of the way." His expression became serious. "I have to warn you, Bliss, darling. Stay away from Ren."

My heart stopped. I clenched my hands in my lap, worried Manly had picked up on the attraction between Ren and me.

"More than anyone else, Ren reminds me of myself when I was young—incapable of long-term monogamy. Into himself. Ambitious. Adventurous. A risk-taker. Charming enough to talk his way into anything and any woman's heart. Thinking of only himself. He'll only break hearts." He looked thoughtful. "I have no regrets for myself, but the women who loved me deserved better. You deserve the best, Bliss. Don't let Ren beguile you. He'll use you to get what he wants. And what he wants is this estate."