The Duchess War

“Every aspect of it,” he said fiercely. “Lords should be indicted like commoners and tried by juries. We should not have the right to reject laws that Commons proposes. In fact, I don’t think the House of Lords should exist at all. I wish to hell I was simple Mr. Blaisdell. My father—you have no idea how dreadful he was.”

His hands clenched at his side; his eyes blazed with a light she hadn’t seen since he talked to Finney.

“I could apologize for the benefits I inherited from him,” Robert said. “But I learned long ago that an apology changes nothing. So I plan instead to use them—use them to make sure that what my father did, no lord will ever be allowed to do again.”

This couldn’t be happening. He couldn’t be saying those things.

But telling herself that did no good. Minnie was just as certain that she was seeing the heart of him now.

“Of all the benefits I plan to relinquish, the chance to wed some peer’s daughter will be the first to go. Think about what it would mean if I did offer for one for those girls. What would she think when she discovered that my life’s goal was to divest her father, her brother, of their prerogatives? My parents fought every moment they were around one another. I won’t have that kind of marriage. I won’t.”

She had nothing to say to that.

“Second,” he said. “I’ve never expected love from a marriage. At best, I’d hoped to find an ally. Someone who would support me in what will come.” He looked over at her. “You’re better than I at tactics. You’d be a terrible wife for a duke, but for a man who doesn’t want to be a duke any longer? I can’t imagine anyone better.”

She couldn’t imagine anyone worse. He didn’t know about her. He didn’t know.

“Third,” he said. “I want you. I want you very badly. I want you so much that when you fall down half a hall away from me, I’m by your side before anyone else can move. I want you so much that there are nights that I think of nothing but having you.”

She felt those words, felt them in the inner core of her, in a flash of heat and longing that encompassed every lonely night she’d spent. In that, they were well matched. But…

“What of fidelity?” she asked. “I should like to know what to expect. Are you to have mistresses? Am I allowed to take lovers?”

He looked her over. “The last thing I’m thinking of right now is other women,” he muttered.

“Answer the question, if you please.” Her voice shook.

“Is that what you want? For us to take lovers at whim?”

“You’ve said you don’t love me.” Her voice was surprisingly steady. “If I had my preferences, I would want my vows to mean something. I was thinking more of your needs. I don’t want to be unprepared.”

He exhaled and gave her a glimmer of a smile. “Ah.”

She crossed over to him. “You said that we’d be allies, that we’d think of each other. I can imagine what it’s like to be a duke. Thus far, you’ve had your choice of women.” And many of them, she didn’t doubt. “Don’t make a promise that will only chafe at you later. I’d rather have flat honesty than fidelity and flattery at this point.”

“Flat honesty?”

She nodded.

“Then, my dear, you’ll have it. I’m not so desperate for sexual relations as you might imagine. I don’t need to wrangle women into my bed to obtain regular release. God gave me a strong left hand, and there have been many nights when I’ve preferred it to a woman.” He wasn’t looking in her direction. He couldn’t be embarrassed by that admission, could he?

But his confession sent another flash of molten heat through her—the idea of him naked and hard, of his hand on his member. What would he look like when he stroked himself? Would he like long, hard strokes, or soft, gentle ones?

“I can’t ruin my hand’s reputation,” he said, “or hurt its feelings, or get it with child. It has proved by far the safest option available to me. So you tell me, Minnie. Do you think you need to take lovers?”

“I have never given the matter any thought.” It was true; she’d never considered being unfaithful in marriage. Not even if she’d married a man who took mistresses.

“Because I very much believe in making things clear,” he said. “I don’t want any misunderstandings between us. And—if it comes down to it—I promise that if you take a disgust of me, I will let you leave. No little stratagems to try to get you to return. No withholding of pin money. None of that.” He swallowed. “I know things change. There is nothing worse in a marriage than a husband using his power to force his wife. I won’t do it.”

“Robert.” Minnie turned to him. “There is no danger of my becoming disgusted by you.”

She wasn’t sure who moved first. Maybe she took a step toward him. Maybe he leaned toward her. Maybe it was mutual, a shift in the air that brought them together at last. Her hands wrapped around his shoulders; his arms came hard around her.

They were fully clothed, and still his kiss seemed carnal in a way that their last kiss had not. This one was a prelude to what might come if she said yes. His hands roamed, sliding down her, cupping her br**sts, clasping her hips. This was a precursor to lovemaking.

He broke off the kiss, half-smiling. “There’s one thing I need to say.” He sounded almost out of breath. “When my parents married, my father swore that he loved my mother. It was a lie, and it did more damage than the truth. I won’t marry under false expectations.” His fingers flexed, and she looked up to meet his eyes. “I understand perfectly well what we mean to each other. I don’t expect you to love me.”

“What do we mean to each other?” she asked.

“I want children. As many as we can manage and maintain your health.”

“Your Grace,” she said, emphasizing his title deliberately. “That’s not an answer.”

He shrugged and looked away. “I don’t know how to explain it. You looked at me and instead of seeing a duke, you saw a man who could write radical handbills. You know who I am.”

And that brought reality crashing in on Minnie’s head. He’d painted a lovely picture. If all she had to do was sit behind him in Parliament and whisper advice in his ear, figuratively speaking, she’d have said yes.

But this…