He laughed, tousled her hair, hugged her until she squeaked, and said, “You will obey me. I intend to marry you. I suppose I must now that I’ve seen you naked, looked at every delightful inch of you, spent days alone in your company and you wearing only my nightshirt. I’m a gentleman and see no other honorable path for me to tread. I’m still too young and now I’m caught again.”
He got all he’d hoped for. She shoved against his chest, then shoved her fist in his belly. It wasn’t hard enough and she tried again, but he was laughing now because she couldn’t gain enough leverage.
“Maybe I won’t marry you. I don’t even know you. You’ve been a bad man to me for a very long time. Perhaps that was just a stray part of you at the Ranleaghs’ ball. Perhaps that was the only night in your life that you were charming. You do look nice and you kiss well enough, but even then, I’ve never been kissed before so perhaps you’re a troll with no talent or skill at all or”
He kissed her just to shut her up.
“Oh, another thing, your grace,” she said when he allowed her to pull back for a moment. “You play that arrogant role of yours and I’ll cosh you. You know that I could simply announce to the world that the wonderful Marquess of Oberlon, that famous Corinthian and black-hearted knave who’s wicked and amusing and fascinating, fought a duel with a girl. I shudder to think what would happen to your reputation. Would anyone speak to you again?”
“You’re very good,” he said, his fingers lightly stroking over her white throat. “If I squeeze just a bit, will you whimper for me? Will you call me cruel and”
“I’d die before I’d whimper for anyone,” she said. She lightly touched her fingertips to his mouth, to his jaw, to his nose. “Yes, you’re a spanking handsome fellow.”
“And you, Henrietta, you have a tenacious will.” He could probably threaten her all he wanted, but it wouldn’t matter. She’d just look at him and probably laugh and poke fun at him. No, she wouldn’t be bowed by any threats from him. He realized that the last thing he wanted was to make threats or demands or give her orders. He probably would want to in the future and he could just begin to envision what would happen between them when he did. It seemed quite a nice future to him. Four days ago, he couldn’t have begun to imagine such a thing. Life was, he thought while kissing her ear, very strange and unexpected. He decided that the marriage he’d jested about with her would come to pass. He wanted her.
He looked at her and everything he was thinking was in his expression. She ran her tongue over her bottom lip. He stared at her tongue and that bottom lip of hers. He wanted her right now. He wanted to love her and caress her and not stop.
“Damnation, this has got to cease. I know things, Hetty, things that you know about as a gentleman but have no notion about as a young lady. They’re fun things, but I can’t share them with you yet, else I’d have to challenge myself to a duel.” He gently eased her back onto the pillow. “I’ll fetch Millie for you. Rest now. I’ll be back soon enough. I can’t seem to keep away from you. All very odd, but there it is.”
“I know,” she said. “I know.”
Chapter Thirty
Hetty gritted her teeth and held herself as still as she could. He was gentle, he was matter-of-fact, as he carefully snipped away the dressing from her side. The wound had closed nicely and the flesh surrounding it was a healthy pink. The black thread looked obscene but that couldn’t be helped. She’d grown thinner, he thought, as he gently bathed her side with warm soapy water. With great deference to her modesty and to his own control, he’d slipped the nightshirt only midway up her chest and the sheet down to the middle of her belly. She trembled as the soft washcloth touched her skin.