The Duke (25 page)

He stuck out his hand and pulled her to her feet. “First things first, Brandy. Let me tell you that both Mabley and Wee Robert sang your praises. What you did scared ten years off my life, but I thank you. You
saved my life. Can you tell me why you did it? Not that I'm stupid enough to preach that a lady should have cried out delicately and swooned so that the bastard would have finished me off. No, I'm grateful to you, beyond grateful. You gave me my life. Why, Brandy?”

She could deal with this. But she wondered at his question. It was so obvious, it had to be, even to one of Wee Albie's brain size. She just shrugged and kicked a pebble with her scuffed boot. “You make me sound like a heroine, but I'm not. Everything happened so quickly. You were on your face, unconscious, blood pouring out of the bullet wound in your back. I didn't think, truth be told. I couldn't let anyone hurt you. I just acted.” She shrugged again.

“You know, I wouldn't let anyone hurt you either.”

“Perhaps gentlemen are like that.”

“Just what the devil does that mean?”

“That you would save any Robertson if such a situation arose.”

“And you wouldn't?”

She gave him an evil grin, splaying her hands in front of her. “I just might run the other direction if Percy had been the Robertson shot.”

“Good point. Mabley also told me—all stiff he was and sniffing—that you were my guardian for two nights. He said I was helpless, that it could be someone in the castle who'd shot me, that you wouldn't leave me alone. He even said you fetched a gun from Grandfather Angus's collection. Does it even work?”

“Aye, I loaded it myself. And I'm sure Marta or Mabley also told you that I even kept my bedroom door open last night and the night before, and a lighted candle just outside in the corridor.”

“You what? Oh, I see. No, but thank you for telling me of yet another plan executed to protect me. You couldn't stay in my bedchamber since I had my wits
again. You didn't want to take the chance I'd look at you and want to haul you into my bed. Again.”

She looked straight at him. She felt tendrils of salty, damp hair blowing over her face. She swiped the hair away. “Truth be told, ye didn't do any hauling at all.”

“I
see. So that's the line you're going to take, is it?” He looked at her closely, noting the dark smudges under her eyes. “You've not slept well. I don't like that. I understand it, but I don't like it. Now, I will thank you again for protecting me. Now let's talk about you in my bed and me attacking you.”

“I told ye that ye didn't do any hauling or any attacking.”

“Brandy, look at me. Lady Felicity is long gone. Bless Giles, he deserves a longer life for being the sacrificial goat to escort her back to London. I think I'll have to buy him a startling new waistcoat, perhaps one in puce and mauve. What do you think?”

“I'm very glad she's gone. She wasn't a nice lady, Ian. But perhaps you're thinking now that you miss her, that—”

He broke into deep, full laughter. “Miss her? Felicity? No, you must be speaking of someone else, aren't you, Brandy? It has been quite some time now that I realized my mistake. I thank providence that I was made Earl of Penderleigh. It gave me an excuse to leave London and come here. I'm deeply grateful that Felicity became jealous of the way I wrote of you in my one and only letter to her and followed me here.
If she hadn't come the good Lord knows I would never have seen her true colors until it was too late.

“I think too, to be honest about it, that Felicity also came to the same conclusion. I daresay she now looks upon me as some vile, selfish beast she's well rid of. No, Brandy, I don't miss her at all. If my shoulder didn't hurt, I'd fall on my knees and kiss the ground in thanksgiving for my rescue.”

“Oh.”

“Oh? That's all you can say? Come now, please stop this game you're playing with me. No, don't punch me. I just might fall over in a swoon and then where would you be? Listen to me, we really must talk. You can't avoid it any longer. We made love, Brandy. I took your virginity. I realized that when I was sitting on the edge of my bed the following morning and saw your blood and my seed on the sheets and on my sex.”

She turned away and sat down on a large rock, tucking her legs beneath her, smoothing her skirts over her scuffed boots. He had another memory—ah, so very vivid—of the feel of her hips and thighs. His fingers twitched. He felt a stab of lust so sharp he had to turn away from her. And she couldn't begin to understand a man's lust. Well, she knew from her one experience with him, but it had been just one night. And she'd been a virgin.

“Yes, you were a virgin and I took you without a by-your-leave. And you, Brandy, you didn't yell the house down. You didn't hit me, which would have gotten my attention as well. Why didn't you?”

She was silent as the stone she was sitting on.

“I've never known you to be so silent before.” He reached out and grasped one of her hands. Her hand was cold. He found himself warming that hand between his two large ones, just rubbing, holding her hand.

“Brandy, I'm sorry for many things. But mainly I'm sorry I hurt you. If I'd had my wits about me, well, then nothing would have happened. Given that I was out of my head with fever, I wasn't easy with you. I hurt you and I regret it. A woman's first experience with a man shouldn't be painful.”

She was staring out to sea. “Ye didn't hurt me,” she said only. Oh, God, the memories. The painful ones were there, but they meant nothing. He'd held her and stroked her and kissed her. No, the pain had been nothing. She didn't even know she'd bled. She was still a bit tender between her thighs, but that she accepted, for he was large. That thought made her turn as red as her nose did on a very sunny day.

“No,” she said again, still not looking at him. “Ye didn't hurt me. Not much anyway, less than much. Don't worry about it.”

He frowned at her, then let go of her hand. She turned to him and watched him untie his cravat and bare his neck. “All right, if I didn't hurt you, then why did you do this?”

“Oh,” she said, staring at her teeth marks on his neck, pale against his skin but still distinct. “I'd forgotten about that. I couldn't scream and I wanted to, so to keep myself quiet I guess I bit you. I'm sorry if that hurt you.”

He rolled his eyes. “Yes, you hurt the hell out of me. You've probably scarred me. How can I ever forgive you? It's a pity I can't show you the trail of tears you left on my cheek, though I tasted the salt from them the next morning. As to the blood stains on the sheets, I only hope that Morag's mental perceptions are as lacking as her personal hygiene.”

“This has nothing to do with anything. Why are you saying all these things? For God's sake, put your cravat back over your neck. No, don't move, I'll do it. I
don't want you to strain your shoulder.” She very gently eased his cravat back into place.

“Of course that night has to do with a lot of things. I took your virginity. You're a lady, not a mistress who knows exactly what she's doing. You came to me, I'll accept that, but I mean to understand you and I'm not about to let you leave this beach until I do.”

She looked up at him then, a mistake, she knew, because he was so beautiful and she wanted him so desperately.

“There's nothing to understand,” she said, wanting to touch him. “What happened was my choice. Aye, I came to you because I wanted to. I wanted to know what it was like between a man and a woman, but just with ye, only with ye. I wanted that one night and I knew I'd never have another chance. It was all my decision, ye had nothing to do with any of it.”

“All your choice? That's leniency with the truth if ever I heard it. Not my choice?”

“Ye didn't even know who I was. I seduced ye, Ian, and ye didn't have a say in it. I know ye're a gentleman and thus ye have to feel guilty, particularly since I was a virgin. But don't. Again, it was my decision and I did what I wanted to.”

“So I'm not to feel guilty. I'm really not in the habit of bedding virgins, you know.” He paused a moment, remembering all of her words. “You wanted me?”

“Aye,” she said baldly. “I wanted ye.”

“Well, you had me, but it wasn't much fun for you, was it?”

“It was good enough. Ye'll forget soon enough, Ian, and I want ye to. I absolve ye of any ridiculous guilt you wish to bear.”

“But I have no wish to forget, little one,” he said and tugged her hand until she was leaning against him. He reached out his hand and lightly stroked his
fingertip over her eyebrows. “You're beautiful, you know that?”

She just looked at him, at his mouth. He swallowed. He couldn't help himself. He leaned to her and lightly kissed her mouth. Her lips were salty. He smiled even as he licked them. She jumped. He retreated.

He said, his voice now brisk, “I'm now blessedly free of any marriage entanglements. I'm now in a position for you to make an honest man of me. Will you marry me, Brandy? Will you be my duchess?”

She'd known he'd ask. He was a gentleman, after all. Even though she'd taken all responsibility, which was only right, he'd still done it.

She said only, “No.”

He stared at her, not believing that one single, devastating word. “What did you say?”

“I said I won't marry ye.” She tried to pull her hand away, but he wouldn't let her go.

“This isn't at all what I expected. Really, Brandy, I don't see that you have much choice in the matter. We made love. I spilled my seed inside you.”

“So? Why, Ian, why have I no choice? Is it because I'm no longer a virgin and thus damaged goods? Why do I care? I have no intention of marrying. It doesn't matter.”

“That's one of the stupidest things I've ever heard you say. And believe me, in the past half hour I've heard a good deal of stupidity come from that beautiful mouth of yours. Oh, damn.” He leaned over and kissed her again. He felt her mouth open and thought he'd die. He had to stop this. He wasn't about to take her again, this time on a beach.

He said against her warm mouth, “We shall both do what is right and appropriate. I've asked you to marry me. You will now tell me you would be happy to marry me. No more arguments. Is that clear?” He kissed her again. “Tell me that's clear and that you'll
say yes. Either that or you can just nod.” He kissed her again and then again. He wanted to touch more of her, but he didn't dare allow himself to.

She leaned back. She smiled at him. “You taste good. You taste like dark wickedness, all sweet and hot, just like I'd expect you to taste.”

“Stop it, at least for the moment. Assure me that you'll marry me and I'll kiss you until you can't breathe. I'll kiss you until the tide comes in and tries to wash us out to sea.”

She pulled back in the circle of his arms. She raised her hand and lightly touched his cheek. She felt immeasurably older than he. She felt ancient and sick at heart. “Ian, listen to me a moment. Would ye still wish to be free of Lady Felicity if what happened between us hadn't happened?”

“Another stupidity. You know I'm beyond grateful that she broke off our engagement. She has nothing to do with anything.” He actually shuddered.

Brandy looked down at a broken fingernail, anything to look at except him and his mouth and his beautiful man's face. She said slowly, “If I hadn't come to yer bed, would ye have ever thought to ask me to be yer wife?”

That was a kick he hadn't expected. He had to deal with this just right. Everything hung in the balance here.

He said in a deep, calm voice, “I have never thought that my perceptions were overly lacking. I even continue to believe myself a rather acceptable judge of character. I know you're not indifferent to me—indeed, that fact was fairly obvious from the first evening when you burst into my room. I can't deny that I tried to ignore you, treat you as a child, but it was because I was still betrothed to Lady Felicity. I had to see you as someone I couldn't have. Remember that afternoon at the crofter's hut? I kissed you and
you kissed me back. I wanted you desperately and I know you cared for me. You've said now that you wanted to come to me that night I was fevered. You said you wanted to have that one night with me. Now I'm offering to give you every night for the rest of our lives. It's true you came to me freely. It's also obvious that you aren't now or ever will be a wanton woman. Doesn't it seem a reasonable thing for me to conclude that your heart, as well as your body, now belong to me? Of course I care for you, how could I not? You're bright, you're loving, you've a wicked wit, and I know we'll suit. Forgive me if I could do all of this better, but it seems to me that the last thing you'd want to do is turn down my marriage proposal.”

He was forcing her to say it. She supposed she owed it to him, but still, it hurt so much, hurt so very much. She stared at him mutely, wishing life could be different, that his past could have been different, but it was not to be.

She said, “It isn't my feelings I question, Ian. Never my feelings.”

“What the devil do you mean by that?”

“Very well. I'm young and inexperienced, but I'm not a fool. I would never wed where there's no love. Or if the love is all on one side. Nay, don't interrupt me, for I would say what I feel. To be an
English
duchess would require you show me a great deal of patience and tolerance. I'm ignorant of yer ways. I don't mean I'd use the wrong fork or bellow something disrespectful to the queen, but ye were raised from your cradle to be a duke, a peer of the realm, the English realm. I was raised by Lady Adella. Aye, that would make anyone groan. I've never been away from Penderleigh. All I know is what's here. The only people I've ever dealt with are here. They're all Scottish. Don't ye understand, Ian?”

“All that you're talking about—it's nothing. I'll
show you how to go along. There won't be any grand problems. They're all in your mind.”

“All right, then, that's really just the prelude. Ye force me to strip the bark off the tree. Ye don't love
me,
ye love
her
. I can't marry ye, not knowing that.”

He wanted to shake her. Then kiss her, then yell at her perhaps. “I don't love Felicity. I never loved her. Why the hell won't you believe me and stop this idiocy?”

“Aye, I know you never loved Felicity.”

“Then what are you talking—” His voice fell like a rock off a cliff. He could but stare at her, no words in his brain or on his tongue.

She tried to smile at him, to reassure him, but she couldn't manage it. God, the pain was nearly unendurable. “Aye, ye can't say ye don't love Marianne. Of course ye didn't really care for Felicity, for she was naught but a blurred copy of yer first wife. Oh, Ian, I can't win ye from a woman six years dead. Whenever ye would look at me and see my gracelessness, ye'd but think of
her
and hate me for it. Love her if ye must, but don't force me into rivalry with a ghost.”