The Irresistible Miss Peppiwell(19)
However, he also wanted to know her beyond her bedding responses. “I assure you, I’ve no intention of ruining her. Merely…testing the waters.”
She interested him. Considerably. What he intended to do with that interest was another matter, which he needed to carefully contemplate before acting to land himself in trouble he did not want and she did not need.
Sebastian’s gaze drilled into him. “You told me Georgina broke down and cried at what she labeled the ‘depraved desires’ you made her feel. A young, sheltered chit would surely run screaming from your brand of exploration.”
Anthony grunted. Georgina, his former mistress, was a widow and more than open to a man’s advances. The first night he had taken her, she had orgasmed until she lay limp, unable to twitch. He had been somewhat shocked on his next visit at the recriminations she’d heaped on his head. The lady had claimed not to enjoy the wanton desires he so clearly made her feel. With less than a month together, he’d moved swiftly to dissolve their attachment, impervious to her tears and pleading. Apparently, she’d enjoyed him more than she wanted to admit to herself.
But Anthony wanted a woman who wasn’t appalled by physical pleasure, and sought it eagerly.
Something he suspected was true of Miss Peppiwell. No, something he knew.
He prowled to the breakfast sideboard, heaping kippers, scrambled eggs, and bacon high on his plate. He poured more brandy into his glass.
“So, tell me more of this young lady,” Sebastian invited.
Ah. So, not restraint. Merely delay.
Anthony shrugged, resigned to the interrogation. The duke was singular-minded when he chose to be. “There is really nothing to tell.”
“You are heading to meet our man of affairs to spy on her. Even I realize the madness in the notion. Don’t tell me there’s nothing behind that.”
“Orwell is dangerous,” Anthony murmured. He was sure of it. The tingle in his gut and the prickle in his nape he’d felt at the rage in Orwell’s features still haunted him.
“Why is it our problem?” Sebastian asked.
“Mine, not ours,” Anthony corrected.
“Don’t be an idiot,” Sebastian growled, moving to pour tea into two cups. “Anything that affects you this deeply, affects me.”
A laugh rumbled from Anthony as he accepted the teacup Sebastian held out to him, saying nothing when his brother firmly removed his glass of brandy.
“She interests me, that is all.”
“I do not think she merely interests you. You deny you plan to make an offer, yet you are concerned enough to put a man on her. And you wish to explore her.”
Anthony grunted. “Fine. I want her, but it is a bit more than that. And I may be contemplating courting her, but not until I am certain we suit.” There. That was a reasonable excuse.
“So, you are not averse to connubial bliss with her. You are obviously attracted to the girl. Why the sudden caution? Not two weeks ago, you said you wished to—”
The studied, smooth blankness of Anthony’s face froze his brother’s words in midsentence.
Fury surged from Sebastian’s eyes. “Do not tell me you will not marry because of what you found out.”
His brother had always been too perceptive by half.
Anthony gave a stiff, mocking bow. “I am a bastard, Your Grace. My sons will bear that stain.”
“Your sons will bear your name proudly. Everything you have will be theirs, and all my unentailed property will be deeded to them.”
Anthony gulped his tea before answering, treading carefully.
“Thank you,” he said evenly, “but I have enough wealth to last several sons and daughters a lifetime. And I am damn proud to know it was acquired by my own efforts and not…his. But the stigma of my birth that would follow my wife, my heirs, and my daughters is undeniable. How could I ask anyone to willingly endure that? What woman would want a bastard for a husband?”
It was the powerful Duke of Calydon who stared haughtily back at him. “If she loves you, she would bloody well endure, and be damn happy to take you.”
The savage intensity of his brother’s exhortation soothed the tension that had been building in Anthony at the topic. It was good to be so well loved and highly valued by the man he admired most in the world.
“My rank and wealth will enable us to defy society’s precepts, if it ever becomes known,” Sebastian assured.
Anthony wondered if his brother really believed that.
“So, you swear you have not bedded this chit?” Sebastian demanded.
“I have not. Even if I wished to… The lady is an ice maiden.” He exhaled slowly. “Or…she would have you believe she is. But, indeed, I touched fire last night.”