She had to make him define the end of their affair.
He held her gaze, utterly expressionless. Utterly implacable.
She refused to back down. “Lady Ashton confirmed that your failure to make the promised announcement has been widely noted. You’re going to have to make it soon, or we’ll have Lady Osbaldestone back up here, in a foul mood. And in case you’re wondering, her foul mood will trump your temper. She will make you feel as small as a flea. So stop pretending you can change your destiny, and just tell me so we can announce it.”
So she could organize to leave him.
Royce was too adept at reading between other people’s lines to miss her underlying thoughts…but he had to tell her. She’d just handed him the perfect opening to break the news to her and propose, but…he didn’t want to yet. Wasn’t yet sure enough of her response. Of her.
Beneath the covers, she shifted, sliding one long leg over his waist, then easing across and sitting up, straddling him, the better to look into his face. Her eyes, the glorious autumn hues still darkened by recent passion, narrowed and bored into his, golden sparks of will and determination flaring in their depths. “Have you chosen your bride?”
That he could answer. “Yes.”
“Have you contacted her?”
“I’m negotiating with her as we speak.”
“Who is she? Do I know her?”
She wasn’t going to let him slide around her again. Jaw setting, eyes locked on hers, he ground out, “Yes.”
When he didn’t say anything more, she clutched his upper arms as if to shake him-or hold him so he couldn’t escape. “What’s her name?”
Her eyes held his. He was going to have to speak now. Engage with her now. He was going to have to find some way-forge some path through the mire…He searched her eyes, desperate for some hint of a way forward.
Her fingers tightened, nails digging in, then she uttered a frustrated sound; releasing him, she raised her palms, along with her face, to the canopy. “Why are you being so damned difficult about this?”
Something within him snapped. “Because it is difficult.”
Her head came down; she pinned him with her eyes. “Why, for heaven’s sake? Who is she?”
Lips thin, he locked his gaze with hers. “You.”
All expression fled from her face, from her eyes. “What?”
“You.” He poured every ounce of his certainty, his determination, into the words. “I’ve chosen you.”
Her eyes flared wide; her expression wasn’t one he could place-she wasn’t afraid of him. She started to draw back, pull away; he locked his hands about her waist.
“No.” The word was weak, her eyes still wide; her expression looked strangely bleak. Abruptly she dragged in a breath, and shook her head. “No, no, no. I told you-”
“Yes. I know.” He made the words terse enough to cut her off. “But here’s something-some things-you don’t know.” He caught her gaze. “I took you up to Lord’s Seat lookout, but I never told you why. I took you there to ask you to marry me-but I got distracted. I let you distract me into getting you into my bed first-and then you turned your virginity, the fact I’d taken it, into an even bigger hurdle.”
She blinked at him. “You wanted to ask me then?”
“I’d planned to-on Lord’s Seat, and then here on that first night. But your declaration…” He paused.
Her eyes narrowed again; her lips thinned. “You didn’t give up-you never give up. You set out to manipulate me-that’s what all this”-she waved her arms, encompassing the huge bed-“has been about, hasn’t it? You’ve been working to change my mind!”
With a disgusted snort, she tried to get off him. He tightened his grip on her waist, kept her exactly where she was, straddling him. She tried to fight loose, tried to pry his fingers away, wriggled and squirmed.
“No.” He bit the word off with sufficient force to have her look at him again-and grow still. He trapped her gaze, held it. “It wasn’t like that-it was never about manipulating you. I don’t want you by stealth-I want your willing agreement. All this has been about convincing you. About showing you how well you fit the position of my duchess.”
Through his hands, he sensed her quietening, sensed that he’d caught her attention, however unwilling. He dragged in a breath. “Now you’ve forced my hand, the least you can do is listen. Listen to why I think we’d suit-why I want you and only you as my wife.”
Trapped in his dark eyes, Minerva didn’t know what to think. She couldn’t tell what she felt; emotions roiled and churned and tumbled through her. She knew he was telling the truth; veracity rang in his tone. He rarely lied, and he was speaking in terms that were utterly unambiguous.
He took her silence as acquiescence. Still holding her captive, still holding her gaze, he went on, “I want you as my wife because you-and only you-can give me everything I need, and want, in my duchess. The socially prescribed aspects are the most minor-your birth is more than adequate, as is your fortune. While an announcement of our betrothal might take many by surprise, it won’t in any way be considered a mйsalliance-from society’s perspective, you’re entirely suitable.”
Pausing, he drew breath, but his eyes never left hers; she had never before felt so much the absolute focus of his attention, his will, his very being. “While there are many ladies who would be suitable on those counts, it’s in all the other aspects that you excel. I need-demonstrably need-a lady by my side who understands the prevailing social and political responsibilities and dynamics of the dukedom as, courtesy of my exile, I do not. I need someone I can trust implicitly to guide me through the shoals-as you did at the funeral. I need a lady I can rely on to have the backbone to confront me when I’m wrong-someone who isn’t afraid of my temper. Almost everyone is, but you never have been-among females that alone makes you unique.”
Royce didn’t dare take his eyes from hers. She was listen ing, following-understanding. “I also need-and want-a duchess who is attuned to and devoted to the dukedom’s interests, and first and last to Wolverstone itself. To the estate, the people, the community. Wolverstone is not just a castle-it never has been. I need a lady who understands that, who will be as committed to it as I am. As you already are.”
The next breath he dragged in shook; his lungs were tight, his chest felt compressed, but he had to say the rest-had to step off the beaten path and take a chance. “Lastly, I…” He searched her autumn eyes. “Need-and want-a lady I care about. Not the customary Varisey bride. I want…to try and have more of a marriage, a more complete marriage-one based on more than calculation and convenience. For that I need a lady I can spend my life with, one I can share my life with from now into the future. I don’t want to occasionally visit my duchess’s bed-I want her in my bed, this bed, every night for all the nights to come.” He paused, then said, “For all those reasons, I need you as my bride. Of all the women I might have, no other will do. I can’t imagine…feeling as I do about any other. There never has been any other I’ve slept beside through the night, no other I’ve ever wanted to keep with me through the dawn.” He held her gaze. “I want you, I desire you-and only you will do.”