This Duchess of Mine(24)

He didn’t speak for a moment, letting her know that he saw her flimsy evasion. She couldn’t help it; the flicker of amusement—and recognition of desire—in his eyes made the corners of her mouth curl into a smile. But there was nothing in her smile that betrayed Elijah. Nothing.

“Children,” he said. “I promised Charlotte that I would find her the perfect husband. She showed no faith in my abilities, and insisted that if I managed the task, I would have to turn father, when she turned wife.”

“And she just turned wife!” Jemma cried. “You are caught, Villiers, fairly caught!”

“I thought you were going to call me Leopold. I’m sure we had reached that pitch of intimacy.”

The air stilled in the room again. She fled back to the subject at hand. “The question is, what did she mean by turning father?”

“She said something about learning the children’s names.”

“You do support them, don’t you?” she asked, knowing that he did. Even if he didn’t entertain guilt, Villiers would never shirk a financial responsibility.

He nodded.

“I gather that you need to understand the word ‘fatherhood.’”

“I’m finding the parameters hard to determine.”

“I don’t believe I ever met your father. Mine taught me to play chess.”

“I could do that,” Villiers said, something easing in his expression.

Jemma sneaked a glance at him under her lashes. “My father taught me how to fight off an unwanted suitor, and threatened to kill me if I failed.”

“Dear me,” Villiers said languidly, taking one of her knights. “How very violent.”

Jemma felt a prickle of irritation. Her father had been rightfully impassioned on the subject of rakes like Villiers. “Most of what he taught us we learned from living with him. Fatherhood involves propinquity.”

Villiers didn’t even flinch. “The children are—”

“How many children are we talking about?” Jemma demanded. And, when he didn’t answer, “You do know the number, don’t you?”

“Of course. But there are complications.”

Jemma swept a bishop off the board. “Such as?”

“Six,” he said.

“Six? You have six children out of wedlock?”

His eyes focused on her fingers, still holding the bishop. “Considering the number of women I have made love to in my life, it seems a not inconceivable number.”

“Inconceivable? Who’s vulgar now?”

He blinked. “An inadvertent pun, I assure you.”

“I thought you had perhaps two children.”

“Six.”

“You need to be more careful,” she scolded.

“Yes.”

“Didn’t you ever give a thought to the lives of those children, born out of wedlock? Or their mothers, bearing children without marriage lines?”

“No.”

It was Jemma’s turn to move, but she hesitated. She felt a bit sick. She liked Villiers. Leopold. She really liked him. She had even—

“I am a duke,” he said. His voice was like dark velvet, impenetrable. “Why would I give a damn about that sort of thing?”

“At least you pay for them.”

“I could support a foundling hospital, and you would applaud my virtue.”

“I didn’t expect you to populate your own orphanage,” she said, her voice coming out more sharply than she intended. “It’s despicable to think so little of the women that you—”

“Bed,” he supplied. “I think a great deal of some women I bed. Or hope to bed.”

But this bit of gallantry was forced, and she flashed him a look of contempt.

“What is the difference between six and two?” he asked.

“One child out of wedlock is an error. Two suggests carelessness. Three—and six—is simply wrong. Wrong.”

There was something in those dark eyes of his that made her anger diminish.

“You understand that, don’t you?”

“You simply don’t appreciate the mental cast of a duke.”

“Don’t you dare tell me that your children’s mothers were lucky to be impregnated by you, simply because of your rank!”

There was a brief smile in his eyes. “No. I meant that I was brought up to think that everyone below me was unworthy. That my inherited money, power, and title gave me the right to do just as I please. And as it happens, I dislike French letters and I honored my dislike for some years.”

“There’s nothing honorable about that,” Jemma said scathingly. “You’re lucky you don’t have fourteen children! Who are they?”

“The children?”