What the Duke Wants(61)

And like that, her heart melted, as well as all of her excuses.

“Why… no. I can answer that question and the blame lies at my own feet.” He shook his head slightly, his expression changing from the fierce passion of ownership of her very heart, to one of self-derision.

Carlotta ached for the pain apparent in his expression. Pain that she had caused in her efforts to protect her heart.

But what about his heart?

Who had been protecting it? For the first time she looked at the opposite side of things, much like Lady Southridge had explained last night. As if looking in a mirror, the entire view changed, righted itself and Carlotta realized just how much of a fool she had been.

But no longer.

When she had seen his reputation, he had been protecting hers by removing her from his gasp.

When she saw his title, he had lowered himself to love a servant.

When she questioned his honor in kissing her, he blamed himself for being so weak.

When she saw him compromising her to force her hand, he used the self-control of a saint, everything his very reputation testified against, and preserved her virtue even when she wasn’t inclined to being virtuous.

“I never asked, I never said the right words. For one being known for saying all the right things, I’m pitifully miserable at speaking them to you. Carlotta, Lottie, my Lottie. I love you.” Holding his hands out he waited, a man facing his uncertain destiny.

A destiny he had given her complete control over.

“I left this morning to get a special license for an occasion I failed to invite you to attend. You see…” He took another step forward, his gaze growing in determination, in resolve. “I seemed to forget to ask you a very important question last night.” Another step forward, yet it felt like he was walking through the door to her heart, not knocking but simply walking through the door as if it never had existed in the first place.

And maybe it never had. Maybe… maybe he held the key all along and she never stopped resisting his love long enough to think of the possibility.

“Yes?” she felt herself ask. Her heart began to gallop within her, causing her body to tremble with a hope she never dreamed to unleash.

He glanced down and stepped around a settee, each step full of purpose… full of promise. “You have the impertinent habit of robbing me of all rational thought and I’ve never been as thoroughly overjoyed with a surprise as I was last night. I feel compelled to apologize for not asking you sooner, for being lost in the moment, as it were, and neglecting to speak my heart rather than simply acting on it. Carlotta, I’d ask you to marry me, but really, I’m quite accustomed to getting what I want. And if you refuse me, I’m warning you that I will likely create a scene. So rather, I’m asking you to take pity on me, and save me from my wretched self and marry me. Not because I deserve you, not because I’m a duke, or because I’m wealthy, but because I know that if you met me and I was penniless, you’d love me the same. Like you love me now, but won’t admit.”


“Create a scene?” she couldn’t help but ask. A smile stretched across her face at the idea of the infamous, notoriously sinful Duke of Clairmont hanging propriety for the love of a governess. It was the stuff romantic dreams were made of.

Her romantic dreams.

That had somehow made it out of her dreams and into her real life.

“I’ll simply have to compromise you. Believe me I have very credible witnesses.” He gave a daring smile and mischievous nod to the gentlemen in the room.

“See here! There’s no call to treat the lady in such a way!” Lord Darby’s voice interrupted her sweet interlude, her secret satisfaction at the duke’s willingness to create that much of a scene.

Never had she ever considered compromising so… romantic.

“Please, my lord.” She held up her hand, sparing him only a slight glance before turning back to the duke. His eyes glowed with victory, a bright triumph shining from his expression. It was fierce and passionate, possessive and wild, full of love.

Love for her.

“Surely you can’t stand by and allow—”

“Actually, Lord Darby, though his grace’s reputation suggests otherwise, I have it on good authority that his intentions are quite noble, and have been for quite some time,” Mr. Burrows commented.

“Carlotta?” the duke whispered her name.

Closing her eyes, she let the sound wash over her, owning the sound of his voice.

Tears pricked in her eyes as she considered just how close she had come to losing him.

“You’re taking too damn long,” he swore, his tone causing her eyes to flutter open only to find him striding towards her quite purposefully. A moment later he was crushing her to him, drinking in the passion of her kiss, demanding she surrender.

Which she willingly gave, with every last piece of her heart. Pressing into him she disregarded every warning she ever heard about acting like a lady and owned him with her kiss. As if tasting her answer, he deepened the exchange, his arms wrapping around her till every line of his was flush with hers, warming her, setting her on fire.

Gasping he broke the kiss. Hovering just a breath away from her lips. “Consider yourself properly compromised, Carlotta,” he whispered.

“Indeed. Does your offer to make me an honest woman still stand? I seem to find myself in need of redemption,” she murmured back, her cheeks flushed with her forward manner, but not repentant in the least for her actions, brazen as they were.