Loving The Lost Duke (Dangerous Deceptions #1)(28)

He was frowning now. ‘Sophie, you do not dislike me, I know that – you are too honest to pretend simply because of my rank. You are not frightened of me, not after the way you let me kiss you. And, forgive me if this seems arrogant, but surely I match most of your little list of desirable attributes in a husband.’

‘You match all of them as you perfectly well know. But I cannot match your equivalent list.’

‘You most certainly do, which should be obvious to you. Is it because I have been married before, have a child?’

‘No. No, of course not. Your daughter is enchanting.’

‘Then I can only assume I have offended you in some way.’

‘No.’ She was going to have to tell him. ‘I will tell you, but not here. We can go into the garden, out of earshot of the house.’

She led him out, past the butler who apparently thought he was being tactful, instead of looking ridiculous, inadequately concealed being the bouquet. ‘Parrott, we are going into the garden. Please see that we are not disturbed.’

‘Certainly, Miss Wilmott. Some tea perhaps?’

‘Nothing, thank you.’ The horrors of having to deal with tea cups and dainty biscuits on top of this tightened her voice to a snap.

Cal said nothing, holding the door, offering his arm down the short flight of brick steps to the tiny circle of lawn, dusting the seat of the garden bench with his pocket handkerchief. Even when she sat he remained silent as he stood before her, watching her face.

‘You are very quiet,’ she managed after a long minute.

‘I am wondering if you need reassuring that whatever it is you are summoning the will to tell me about, no word of it would ever pass my lips.’

‘No, I need no reassurance about your honour, Your Grace. The problem, you see, lies with mine.’

‘Go on.’

‘I am not a virgin.’

‘Do you still love him?’ She could tell nothing from Cal’s tone, nor, when she glanced at his face, his expression. He looked, and sounded, serious and concerned. Not, thank goodness, murderous.

‘No. And thank you for assuming that I would not have… Would not have acted without deep feeling. After my bold behaviour last night, you would have every reason for labelling me fast.’

‘You would not have kissed me if there had not been some feeling between us, Sophie. I do not, for one moment, believe you wanton or wicked. Would I know him?’

‘No.’ No, thank goodness. Jonathan Ransome had vanished from Society after that night without leaving a ripple. He was a younger son on the fringes of the fashionable world and if his friends were puzzled over his absence she never heard a whisper of it. Perhaps she had humiliated him so comprehensively that he did not dare show his face again. That had certainly been her intention. ‘I was mistaken in him. We parted the same night. Not amicably. No-one knows. Not my parents, not my maid. He left London.’

‘And there were no consequences?’ Her face must have betrayed something for Cal dropped to one knee beside her and took her hand. ‘Is there a child for me to add to the family, I mean. I know there must have been consequences to your feelings.’

‘No, no child. But, you cannot still seriously wish to press your suit? Not after this.’

Cal shifted to sit next to her. ‘I cannot pretend I do not wish that had not happened to you, Sophie. You have been hurt, your feelings about marriage must, inevitably, have been compromised. I cannot tell you I do not want to kill the man who hurt you, because I do. Badly. It was a while ago? And this is why you carry that knife?’

‘Yes, it was. Just after Mama remarried. And yes, I carry that knife because before I had no way of defending myself, not at first. I never want to be in that position again.’

His face darkened, then he smiled and said, ‘And you were young and foolish and romantic, which is why you said your mother and stepfather are a bad influence. I thought you were jesting, but you were not, were you?’

She shook her head. ‘Cal, we cannot forget this.’

‘No, of course not. But if you were a widow and had been married to a man you adored, just think how hard I would have to fight to keep from jealousy. Now I can dislike this former love of yours with a clear conscience.’

‘You do not love me. I do not love you, and yet you would be jealous?’ Am I seriously considering this? Marriage to this man? A future as a duchess? Yes, I suppose I am. If only she did not feel mildly queasy with nerves and some sense of impending disaster. That was no way to feel when the most eligible man in London proposed to you, perhaps was simply the ominous fencing master’s dark warnings nagging at the back of her mind.

‘I am possessive, Sophie. What I have, I hold. If this man comes back and tries to claim you then he will be facing me at dawn in some meadow, whether or not you find you have any feelings left for him.’

That should have been terrifying, instead, strangely, the admission was reassuring. Sophie’s spirits began to lift. ‘Tell me something.’ She turned her hand so his was palm up and began to trace the strong lines in his palm. ‘Is that sauce for the goose as well as the gander? May I expect fidelity from my husband?’

‘If you are faithful to me, Sophie, I will be faithful to you.’ There was a subtle threat in that she did not want to think through. Of course if she married Cal she would be faithful, anything else was out of the question.