The Last Duchess (The Lennox Series)(26)
“I yearned to return home, to be nearer my father and brothers. Had I married MacDougal, I’d live the rest of my life in Scotland and, despite my love for the highlands and my mother’s family, I’m a child of England and wish to live here.”
“Am I a means to an end, then?”
“In a manner of speaking. As you said, we may accommodate one another.”
He was dissatisfied and didn’t know why. He didn’t want her to feel anything for him beyond friendship, didn’t want the guilt of being unable to return her affections. Why, then, did her bald statement cause him this discomfort? He continued to watch the ears of his matched bays as they twitched in response to the sounds around them.
“You’re not jealous, surely, because to entertain jealousy would necessarily mean your affections are engaged, and you’ve made it abundantly clear such is not the case.”
He glanced at her and saw that she was earnest. What a pompous man he had become. She accepted him to reinstate herself within society and if any lingering feelings remained, he’d undoubtedly squashed them completely with his Thou Shalt Not Love Thy Spouse speech the night before. Her request for continued sexual relations with him was not, it appeared, anything to do with him, but with the act itself. He ruthlessly squelched the distant howling within him. He should be glad. Never mind that he was not. “I’m not prone to jealousy. It’s a wasted emotion, of which no good can come. While I expect you to remain faithful until such time as I have an heir, perhaps two, your life after that will be your own, to do with as you please. I daresay a woman of your passionate nature would, indeed, require continued . . . stimulation.”
“Are you saying you wouldn’t be averse to me taking a lover?”
His gaze returned to the drive while the howling increased volume in his head. “That is what I’m saying.”
“Do you disremember what I told you last night? I will accept no man in my bed but you, and if this is unacceptable, I suggest we disassociate ourselves from one another and make alternate plans.”
“Would you marry MacDougal then? A man you don’t love? Would you expect him to remain your bed partner for life?” He was astonished to realize he was angry.
“I would indeed.” She drew herself up in that way she had. Very much like a straitlaced, aristocratic, entitled duchess, about to give someone a frigid setdown. “It’s becoming clear that you still find me repugnant, that as much as you will welcome a son because you’ll have done your duty by your ancestors, your true joy will be found in your freedom from my attentions.”
Her voice became deeper as she spoke and he was aware she attempted to avoid weeping. He’d rather made a mess of things, though he was at a loss just how so. Was this a portent of their marriage? He suspected it was, and his anger increased. “I don’t find you repugnant in the slightest, Lady Jane. I’ve told you I desire you. Must I prostrate myself at your feet and blather on about your beauty, your lovely eyes, luxuriant hair and soft, inviting body? Would you have me circle you like a stallion, pawing the ground and baring my teeth at the other rutting animals who would dare look at you? Perhaps I should bite you, as a stallion does a mare, to place my mark upon you that all will know you are mine, that they must keep their distance. Would this give you comfort and assurance that I find you desirable?”
She stared ahead, a veritable statue. When she spoke, it was a whisper. “I think I hate you, sir, for you have this ability to hurt me by your cruelty. I don’t love you, and thank God for that, because were I foolish enough to love you, I’ve no doubt you would destroy me.”
Michael was dumbfounded. Had he been cruel? Of course he had not. She was being overly sensitive, imagining a slight where none was intended. “All this because I gave you my permission to take a lover of your choosing once you’ve discharged your duty to me? And here I believed I was being rather grand in my gesture. How have I become the villain in this piece?”
Turning her face to his, her gaze was cold. “Has it not occurred to you that I don’t consider giving you children to be a duty, that I desire children because it’s within my nature to want them? Or do you blithely assume my interest in children is in the same vein as yours, merely a commodity, necessary to retain a title? I assure you, it is not. I don’t give a damn about your title.”
He was more confused than ever. “If you don’t love me, why does it matter that it’s me in your bed? A woman of your beauty and charm will have no lack of choice in lovers.”