The Unexpected Duchess (Playful Brides #1)(50)
The door behind her opened and she turned to see Derek standing there. He wore a light gray coat, a perfectly starched white cravat, and dark, superfine trousers. His broad shoulders filled out his coat, and Lucy momentarily shuddered. Why did that man have to be so good looking? Utterly unfair.
“Lady Lucy,” he said, bowing to her. “Are you cold?”
She curtsied. “Pardon? No … I…”
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” he continued.
Lucy pushed up her chin. She intended to get this unwanted little visit over and done with as quickly as possible. “I’ve come on Cass’s behalf.”
“Oh? We spoke last night, you know. She indicated that she’d be willing to allow me to court her.”
Lucy hesitated. “Yes. I … I know.”
“Don’t tell me she’s already changed her mind.” A half smile rested on his lips.
Lucy dropped her gaze to the floor. “No. No, she … she’s taken ill and begged me come and tell you she cannot ride with you today.”
His eyes narrowed. “She’s ill?”
“Yes, truly.” Oh, Lucy had known he wouldn’t believe her. “She’s quite eager to continue your acquaintance, however, she just wanted you to know that she’s got an awful head cold and—”
He arched a brow. “Why do I find it difficult to believe that she’s—how did you put it?—eager to continue our acquaintance?”
Lucy closed her eyes for a moment. He was not about to make this easy on her, was he? “She’s trying. I think the strain of Julian’s injury has made her weak. I’m not surprised that she’s ill. I’m quite worried about her.”
“And she chose you to come and tell me?”
“Yes, actually. She didn’t think a housemaid would be sufficiently emphatic enough.”
His mouth quirked. “Oh, she’s right about that. You’re known for your emphasis.”
Lucy narrowed her eyes on him. Now he was making her angry. Mocking her and questioning Cass’s illness. “Perhaps you’d like to pay a call and see for yourself?”
“No need,” he replied. “I told her I’d give her time and that’s exactly what I intend to do. If she needs time, says that she’s ill—”
Lucy gritted her teeth. “She is ill.”
He raised a hand in a conciliatory gesture. “Please, Lucy. Let’s not argue today.”
“Of all the pompous, overbearing … Why can’t you think for one moment that I’m telling the truth? When have I ever lied? Cass is willing to give you a chance, despite her broken heart, and yet you insist upon—”
He put one hand on his hip. “It doesn’t matter why she doesn’t want to see me, does it?”
“You’re what? Annoyed that she’s ill?” Lucy paced away from him, crossing her arms over her chest. She clenched her jaw. “It makes no sense. I don’t get the impression that you have any great love for Cass and yet you insist upon courting her, marrying her, all because Julian recommended her to you?”
“I told you. I made a promise to my dying friend. And I intend to keep that promise.”
“At any cost?” she tossed back at him. “Even Cass’s happiness and health?”
“I don’t expect you to understand. Captain Swift asked me to take care of the girl. I need a wife. I want children. It makes sense. I know Lady Cassandra doesn’t love me. I don’t love her, either, but one day I’m certain we’ll learn to tolerate each other.”
Lucy wanted to throttle him. “Tolerate? That’s the word you choose? You have no heart. Cass deserves love, happiness, passion.” As soon as that last word flew from her lips, she clamped her hand over her mouth. She hadn’t meant to say that.
His brow shot up. “Passion?”
She glanced at her slippers, wanting to kick herself. But now that she’d said it, she wasn’t about to back down. She pulled her hand away from her mouth and raised her chin. “Yes. The kind of passion that comes when two people truly love and respect each other.”
His voice was husky. “I’ve found that passion can complicate a relationship, my lady.”
She paced toward him and stood only a space away. She glared up at him. “You’re a menace. A menace to Cass. I don’t know why she’s giving you a chance but you don’t deserve it. You’re cold. You’re heartless. You have no emotion.”
He grabbed her upper arms. “No passion?”
She turned her head away from him. She couldn’t drag the word no past her suddenly dry lips.
“I beg to differ, my lady.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
When Derek’s lips met hers, Lucy had been coursing with anger. An anger that quickly turned into uncontrollable lust the moment he tugged her body against his. Damn him. She hated him. He was awful. But his insistent hot mouth was rubbing against hers, and his tongue was making her insane.
“Passion like this?” he whispered hotly against her cheek.
“Yes,” she growled back, meeting his lips again with a fervor that matched his own.
He scooped her up into his arms and strode two long paces toward the settee, where he laid her down and quickly covered her with his body. His hands ravaged her coiffure. His lips were on her cheek, her ear, her neck.