He’d never mentioned his need to secure an heir to her before, but that didn’t mean he didn’t need one. It just meant... Meant what? Meant he didn’t want one? Surely not. All men, whether titled or not, wanted a son to pass on their legacy to. Whether a smithy shop or a duchy, it didn’t matter, it was a point of family pride. She understood that. So why hadn’t he pressed her for an heir? Perhaps it was because he didn’t wish to be too forward or imposing. She snorted. That wasn’t the reason. He was Lord Presumptuous, after all. If he’d wanted an heir, he’d have pressed her to create one on their wedding night.
An uncomfortable knot formed in her stomach at the memory of their wedding night. That was the only night she’d slept in the viscountess’ room and he hadn’t come to her room that night. Not that she’d wanted him to, but she hadn’t not wanted him to, either. It was difficult to place exactly why, but for as much as she wouldn’t have wanted to be intimate with him, she’d been disappointed he’d not been the least bit interested in her in that respect. Her frown deepened and she swallowed the lump in her throat, awareness sinking in. He didn’t want her. He hadn’t wanted her then, and he didn’t want her now. That’s why she was in this room. A room meant for merely a guest in his home. That’s what she’d always be, wouldn’t it? A guest. Sure, his gentlemanly side would make him reluctant to house her up by the schoolroom, but after last night, she’d thought― It didn’t matter what she’d thought, the truth was, while he’d moved up in her regard, perhaps she hadn’t moved up in his.
Exhaling, she pushed the thoughts from her mind. Fretting over why he stuck her in any particular room besides his―or even the room intended for the viscountess, at that―wasn’t getting her anywhere. She had things to do today. One of which was attending to the girls, and the other was taking a bath.
Chapter 17
Juliet closed her eyes and leaned her head back, determined not to think about Drake anymore this morning. She’d thought things had changed between them last night, but apparently she was wrong and she wasn’t going to dwell on it. This was her time of solitude and she was going to enjoy it.
Unfortunately for Juliet, her moment of solitude came to an abrupt end when the person she least wanted to see at present barged into the room.
“What the devil are you doing?” Drake exclaimed, his brown eyes held an intense spark.
The water splashed and spilled out the side of the tub as Juliet scrambled to put on her spectacles then cover her breasts as best she could. There may not be much there, but she still wanted to preserve as much dignity as she could. Which wasn’t much considering they’d been in this exact situation only a week prior. “I should ask you that,” she fired back, crossing her legs and turning her hips to keep the triangle of hair positioned between her legs out of his view.
He blinked at her. “Why are you bothering to cover your―” he waved a hand in the direction of her breasts― “now, when last week you didn’t turn a hair about the fact that I was seeing you naked?”
She started. He had a point, he had seen her breasts last week. And not just her breasts, either, if recollection served. Her face heated. Recollection did serve. He’d seen all of her last week. She remembered vividly that she’d actually gotten out of the tub, allowing him to see everything. Shame flushed over her at that bold action. She’d seen the effect she’d had on him when she’d first realized he was in the room and was hoping to tempt him. Tempt him to what? To want her? She knew now he’d never want her. Now that she knew that wouldn’t happen, she suddenly felt insecure and modest. But she couldn’t tell him that. Instead, she inclined her chin. “Circumstances have changed.”
“How so?”
“What does it matter? Did you barge in here to sneak a peek, my lord?” she charged, daring him with her eyes to answer.
His face flushed crimson. “No, that was not my original intent.”
“Then why mention it?”
“Sorry,” he murmured. He ran his hand through his hair and dropped his gaze to the floor. “No, I’m not sorry.” He raised his eyes up to meet hers again. “Now that I think about it, I have some questions, and you’re not leaving this room until I get some answers.”
Juliet glared at him. “And just who do you think you are to demand I give you answers or else you’ll keep me locked in this room.”
“Lord Presumptuous,” he said with a shrug.
She would have laughed at his gesture and even his words if she hadn’t recognized just how forced they’d been. Normally Drake was calm and reserved, able to present a casual air. But he didn’t look so calm and reserved right now. Instead, he looked rigid and stiff. Uncomfortable. Uncertain, even.