Page 43 of Venus in Disguise

“But there is no time, and no choice, either. We shall be married,” he said, turning into her caress, pressing a kiss against her palm. “And whilst that is an unnerving thought, I am glad for it, for I must have you before I go mad with wanting.”

Narcissa’s breath hitched at the contact, at his words, at the warmth of his mouth and tongue against her skin. Tiny shivers of delight seemed to chase from the place his lips touched, all along her arm, erupting deep inside where a sudden pool of liquid warmth spilled through her.

“You asked me if I wanted you,” he said, his voice low. “I told you the truth. I do. I want you badly, Narcissa, but lust is one thing and marriage quite another. We must marry, but I do not wish to find myself tied forever to a woman who comes to resent me for things I cannot change. Women have always sought me out, finding me different from other men because of my heritage. They think I am some exotic creature they can crow about having bedded, but I am not different at heart, love. Once the honeymoon is over and the day-to-day existence of a marriage begins, you will discover I catch colds the same as any other man. I make mistakes, I lose my temper, and I forget things I ought to remember. And those same women who wished to bed me will think less of you for having married me. They may be cruel to you. When that happens, will you still look at me the way you are doing now? Will you still think I am glad I married him, or will you wish you’d chosen differently? That is what I think about, the answer I wish I had.”

Narcissa hesitated, considering her answer, for she knew it mattered, to him, to them both if they were to have a future together. “I cannot pretend to know what I am facing, not in the way you do,” she said, her words careful. “But I am prepared to fight for what I want. I will never regret being yours, Ash. I know that much, but I worry you will feel the same about me, that you will discover ‘the diamond’ is nothing but a pretty bit of glass in reality, that you were tempted only by a façade, but I fear the only thing that will prove us right or wrong is time.”

“Time we do not have,” he agreed. “So we must take a chance, and be kind to each other, and hope we can make it work.”

“How much time do we have?” she asked.

“I went to Doctor’s Commons whilst you were sleeping. We can be married in the morning, providing you are well enough.”

“Tomorrow morning,” she said faintly.

He nodded. “Finish the soup.”

Narcissa ate obediently, her head whirling with the idea she might be married by morning. Once the soup was done, Ash set the tray aside and moved back to the bed. Giving her a considering look, he sat beside her again, but this time stretched his long legs out before him, lounging beside her like an indolent panther. He looked as dangerous too, a glint in his eyes that gave her pause.

“Is this all right?”

Narcissa nodded, though her heart skipped. She smiled as he lifted his arm, inviting her to move closer. With a contented sigh, she snuggled against his chest, delighted with the feel of the silk banyan beneath her cheek, the weight of his arm settling around her. This was perfection, the only place she wanted to be.

Closing her eyes, she basked in the warmth of his hard body so close to hers for a long moment before she spoke again. “Will you tell your parents before we marry?”

“No.” His reply was unequivocal, and her heart sank.

“Because you think they’ll try to talk you out of it?”

Ash shrugged. “They might, but either way, they will wish to discuss the matter and I will not feel easy until you have my name. No doubt they will be displeased, my sister will certainly murder me, but I do not wish to be arrested for attacking a duke. If he ever lays a hand on you again, however, I’m uncertain I could stop myself.”

“How do you know about that?”

“Miss Pinkerton told me.” He looked down at her, his hand caressing her cheek as his gaze softened, his voice becoming tender. “She told me what you said to your father, that I was a better man than he could ever hope to be, and he hit you for it.”

“I did say that,” she said, smiling, relieved that he knew that much. “I was braver then, for I didn’t understand the danger I was courting. I never thought he would hit me, fool that I was. I could have borne the slap, however, for it was done in the heat of anger, but the next time—” Narcissa trailed off, her stomach roiling as she remembered.

“The next time,” Ash repeated, his hand stilling, his voice expressionless. “What happened the next time?”

Narcissa swallowed, staring at the embroidery on his banyan, tracing a thick swirl of yellow silk stitches with her fingertip. “He was quite calm the next time. It was my fault, he said, my fault he had to do it, to beat the wickedness out of me. He did it the morning before you came to the house. That’s why I said nothing in your defence. I’m so very sorry I d-didn’t, I wanted to so badly, but I was too afraid. I did not think I could stand for him to do it again. It… It was very bad.”

“Christ,” Ash said, running a hand through his hair in agitation.

Narcissa glanced up, startled to see such depth of pain and regret in his eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Narcissa,” he said, avoiding her gaze and sounding choked. “I’m so terribly sorry you had to endure that. Bloody hell, if only I had realised. If I had known—”

He broke off in frustration, for they both knew that even then he would have been powerless to help her when she was, in the eyes of the law, her father’s property to do with as he saw fit. Moreover, he was a duke, and no one would dare gainsay him.

Narcissa gave a crooked smile. “Not your fault,” she said, stroking the warm silk over his chest, aware of his growing tension, the anger burning inside him.

“It was entirely my fault,” he said furiously. “And I was fool enough to believe you meant the words you said to me.” He shifted onto his knees, regarding her with a soft look in his eyes, such regret behind the words they touched her heart, easing any lingering pain. “Can you forgive me, love?”

“There’s nothing to forgive,” she said. “And the marks are fading, though riding for so long in such dreadful weather was not terribly comfortable, I admit.”

There was a taut silence.

“May I see?”