Four Nights With the Duke(17)

The cruelty in his voice lashed her again. She could hardly claim to be  insulted that her new husband would take lovers, considering she'd  blackmailed him into making his vows.

"Do you have a mistress now?" she whispered.

His eyes couldn't have been colder. "That is none of your business, and  it never will be. You made your way into my bed, but not into my  confidence." His lips curled, but only a fiend would call it a smile.  "Four nights a year, Duchess. That's what you got from me, in return for  my father's letter. You agreed to that. What you seem to have  overlooked is the fact that those four nights will happen annually-for  the rest of our lives."

Mia could hear her blood pounding in her ears. This had all gone  terribly, horribly wrong. "A marriage, a real marriage, between us would  never work," she said, her voice rasping with the shock of it.

In a flash he was standing in front of her, pulling her upright, his  hands gripping her upper arms so tightly they would be bruised. "You've  made your bed and you must lie in it four nights a year, with me. I  think that's enough to ensure we end up with an heir, don't you? My  parents didn't bother with a spare, but in view of your brother's  demise, perhaps we should keep trying after our first child. Heroically,  you know. For the good of the name."

She told herself not to panic. "You can't mean-"

He cut her off again. "You are my wife. My only wife, Mia. You may have  married me on a six-month lease, but I married you for life."

"We're in a marriage of convenience!"

"No, we're not. It's inconvenient, for both of us."

A wave of horror crashed over her. She couldn't be married to Vander. Not forever. Not . . . not living in the same house.

No.

He must have sensed what she was thinking. "You will live here, at  Rutherford Park. Your nephew will also live with me. And"-he leaned  forward and there was a distinct flare in his eyes-"you will sleep with  no one but me."

"You don't understand!"

"Oh, but I do understand. I understand madness all too well, and I  suspect you have more than a touch of it. I'd say that we have even odds  on whether our children will be as cracked as a broken egg. Another  reason we ought to have spares: the eldest might have to be put away  before he reaches majority."

The sob that she had held in check broke and she tried to twist free.  "Let me go!" He released her immediately and she dashed sideways,  putting a heavy chair between them.

"You really thought I wouldn't mind having a temporary duchess?" Vander asked incredulously.

"I imagined that we would live separately for the few months that we  would be married," she said, rubbing her arms where she could still feel  the pressure of his fingers. "I planned-plan- to travel to Bavaria with  Charlie."

"I gather you didn't picture yourself fulfilling your wifely duties.  Presumably you would lure some unwary Bavarian into giving you evidence  of adultery if annulment didn't work?"

"No! I'm sure I could bribe someone. With my own money. I would be writing," she explained. "You can't know it, but I-"

"If you ever write another one of those deplorable poems that could be  construed in any way to address me or a body part of mine," Vander said  flatly, "I cannot be responsible for the consequences."

Anger flashed up Mia's spine and she drew herself as tall as she could  be. "My poem was not deplorable," she retorted. "If you think that I  would write a line about you again, you are sadly mistaken." She added,  "Besides, I don't write poetry anymore."

With a violent shove, Vander pushed aside the chair that stood between them and took a step toward her.

"Stay there!" she cried. "If you-if you try to hurt me in any way, I shall shoot you!"

That caught his attention and he gave a rough bark of laughter. She  hated that his face still affected her, even knowing how arrogant he  was. It was just that he was very beautiful, with his tousled hair and  deep bottom lip.

"Allow me to tell you something important, Duchess. My wife lives with me."

"No." She managed to make the word firm but polite.

"No?"

You'd think no one had ever refused him in his life.

"No," she echoed, feeling like a parrot. "No, Your Grace, I will not  live with you, dine with you-or sleep with you, even for four nights."                       
       
           



       





Chapter Ten




NOTES ON FREDERIC





~ Flora wakes knowing her heart is in Frederic's keeping, he of the angelic eyes and . . . something.

~ "I will love none other than him he," she announces to Mr. Mortimer's solicitor.

~ His request she give up her bequest appeals to Flora's sacrificial  side. "Filthy dross means aught to me; I would live in a Hovel with my  beloved."

~ Mortimer's solicitor notes Frederic has palazzo in Italy. (would that  make his name Frederico?) Frederic has palazzo somewhere in Bavaria. Or a  castle? Ugh.

Frederic draws her into his arms, kisses her passionately. Flora feels  her head swim (‘Flora feels'?), and her slender body sways in his,  overcome by the Force of Pure Sentiment. Recalled to herself by a  whisper from an Angel on High (her dead mother), her slender delicate  hand strikes his cheek. "How dare you forget yourself, Count! My  Circumstances have been difficult but my Soul is that of a lady!"



Vander was in the grip of shock. No one-not even Thorn-gainsaid him. Not that he issued orders to Thorn.

But where he did command, he was used to unquestioning obedience.

He was a duke.

His wife didn't seem to appreciate what that meant. Every inch of Mia's  small body was rigid with defiance. A sense of profound surprise rocked  Vander to the core. For once, it seemed he truly had made a mistake.  That he had both underestimated and misunderstood his opponent.

"Why in the hell did you want a temporary marriage?" he demanded. "If  you are so infatuated with me, why didn't you bid for more time?"

"You truly believe that I would blackmail you into making me your wife  because I was still in love with you-after over ten years in which I  hadn't even seen your face?"

Vander's eyes narrowed and his body stiffened. Put that way, his assumption had indeed been illogical.

Mia's voice took on a distinctly derisive edge. "And the ‘four nights'  proviso? I suppose that was meant to corral my adulation. Did you come  up with that, or was it your solicitor's addition?"

"Mine," he bit out.

"My father thought a great deal of himself, but I don't think even he  believed himself quite as irresistible as you apparently do!"

Vander cursed, more or less under his breath. "It seems I misunderstood the motive behind your marriage proposal," he said.

The mockery in her eyes vanished. "It wasn't a proposal," she admitted.  "I blackmailed you into marriage, which is an ugly business. I would  never have done it if I hadn't been desperate. No decent woman would  have." One side of her mouth quirked up. "Even so, I must confess myself  surprised by the arrogance of your thinking I would commit a felony in  order to buy myself four nights in your bed!"

A moment of silence in the room made the air sizzle.

Vander drew a hand through his hair and said, "I must be losing my  bleeding mind. None of this makes sense. You didn't marry for ambition,  for money, or for love. Why the hell did you blackmail me?"

"It's a long story."

"I have time," he said grimly.

"I was jilted," Mia blurted out. "At the altar in St. Ninian's. Well,  not quite at the altar, because I was waiting in the vestibule, but  everyone else was in the church."

That was unexpected. "When did this happen?"

"Around a month ago. I had to marry, you see. I'm-well, I'm a mother." She stopped.

Vander froze. No wonder Mia's bosom was lush. She was carrying a child.  Hell, India looked like that too-now that she was carrying Thorn's  child.

Her eyes widened. "Not that sort of mother!"

"Do you count me a fool, Duchess?" Vander demanded. "I can see your  shape well enough. What will you say to me in four months, when your  waistline expands? Even more than it already has," he added, knowing it  was unkind but unable to control his tongue.

Mia's mouth trembled, and he felt a stab of guilt. "I am not carrying a  child," she repeated. "Yet in every way that matters, I am my nephew's  mother and have been since his birth. Charles Wallace Carrington, my  nephew, is the child your solicitor mentioned. My brother's will  specified that I would remain his guardian only if I were married to a  man of worth within a year of the will being proved. I was betrothed  when John died, so it didn't appear to pose a problem. We waited until I  was out of mourning-but he fled the country rather than marry me."