A Rake's Ruin (Devilish Lords #1)(15)
He shook his head. “No. Never.”
Her eyes flashed briefly with surprise. “Then a thank you, at least.”
He clenched his jaw as emotions too strong and fierce made it difficult to hold her like this without crushing her to him. “I could have done more,” he repeated. He should have done more. But not for Jed—for her.
He should have given her and her siblings more than a passing thought. He should have realized how Jed’s problems affected the family, and Claire most of all. “I should have married you.”
Her eyes widened at that, and he couldn’t say that he blamed her. He’d surprised himself with that outburst. But it was the truth and in hindsight it seemed so plain. As the second son of a duke he didn’t have the same pressure to marry as his brother, but a good match was still expected of him.
Much as he griped and moaned about the prospect of marriage with his bachelor friends, he did not truly hate the idea. In fact, he rather liked the idea of a warm woman in his bed, of a family and a comfortable home life and—
He had a sudden vision of Claire in his house, wearing one of those genuine smiles as she welcomed him home. Claire holding a babe in her arms. Claire in his bed, wearing nothing but that seductive smile.
“Are you all right?” Claire asked. She peered up at him with a questioning look.
He nodded quickly. “Fine, fine.” Scrambling to change the topic from his mental health, which was clearly suffering some sort of crisis, he latched on to the topic that had started this in the first place.
He glanced over at the baron meaningfully once more. “So, now that your sister has wed an earl, you are no longer looking for a husband, which has made you all the more appealing to that fine gentleman. Is that correct?”
His tone held a world of sarcasm and he was rewarded with another flicker of amusement in those startlingly expressive eyes. “That is correct.”
He nodded, his gaze searching hers as she’d done to him. “You don’t need a husband…but do you want one?”
Her eyes widened as he knew they would. It was a shockingly personal question to ask, but after the evening they’d had, it felt normal to defy etiquette.
“Of course,” she said softly. “I’d like a family of my own one day.”
The statement warmed him in a way he would have to ponder at another time. He couldn’t focus on that right now, not when she was lithe and graceful and deliciously sweet in his arms. “And what are you looking for in a husband now that you can have your pick of the lot?”
She laughed and he felt it in his bones. He loved her laugh. And he adored being the one to make her laugh.
“I would not say I could have my pick,” she said, a hint of a blush staining her cheeks a fetching shade of pink.
“Why not?” he insisted.
Her gaze shifted as she avoided eye contact.
“I realize you have been reared to be humble and modest to a fault, but you cannot fool me with that demure debutante act,” he said softly, teasingly. “Not after this evening.”
Her blush deepened at the reminder of that kiss but his words had the desired effect and her gaze met his once more. He saw a spark of rebellion as she met his challenge. “Fine,” she said. “I admit that I have far more options now than I had before.”
When her gaze met his he nearly laughed aloud at her brazenness. “The earl has been kind enough to add significantly to my dowry and there is no longer a ticking clock hanging over my head.”
He could practically hear the relief in her voice and he felt it as well on her behalf. He’d heard about her dowry. If anything, now she would have to worry about fortune hunters. “So you can have your pick then,” he said, driving home his point.
She didn’t answer, just looked around the room with that simpering smile firmly in place.
“I suppose you’ll hold out for love.” He hadn’t meant it to sound quite so disdainful. It wasn’t as though he didn’t believe in love, but it was a rarity in the world in which they lived. Perhaps if he were a merchant and she a shopkeeper’s daughter they might have that freedom, but in their world, there were far too many other priorities to take into consideration. The odds of stumbling into love in addition to good breeding, wealth, and title were so low it was laughable.
Though he knew this to be true, it was not the sort of thing one said to a young, sweet woman in the first blush of youth as she moved in one’s arms as though she belonged there. The poor girl had probably spent her life dreaming of finding love, knowing that it would be unlikely, at best.
That thought was interrupted by a short laugh of disbelief as she gave a small roll of her eyes. “Oh certainly, I intend to wait for my one true love.” Her gaze met his and her amusement at his expense nearly knocked him sideways. “I expect to find him any day now.”
He stared at her speechless for too long. Only the sound of the music filled the air between them as they moved in time along with the other couples. He registered her sarcasm and the look in her eyes that could only be termed…jaded. “Don’t you believe in love?”
She arched her brows, surprise replacing the cynicism that seemed so out of sorts with Claire, both versions, old and new. “Do you?”
“Of course.” He answered without thinking. But really…of course. He’d seen it happen often enough with his own eyes. The latest example being the earl and his bride who had exchanged more nauseatingly loving glances this evening than he would ever witness in a lifetime attending the opera.