While the Duke Was Sleeping (The Rogue Files #1)(68)

“You’d be surprised.” Again, she thought of Struan and how he would view her when this was all over and done.

He shook his head. “Impossible. It appears everyone has fallen in love with you while I lay like a slug in this bed.”

Not everyone. She wasn’t the only one who had an opportunity to make a confession. Struan had said nothing of love any of the times they had been together, but there had been those moments together in the conservatory last night. He had claimed that he knew her, that he understood her. She could have shown him who she really was. She should have tried to explain then.

“Your family is very kind and generous. It’s no more than that.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that. My sisters can be tricky creatures, and yet they adore you.”

“Sisters often are tricky,” she agreed, thinking of her own. Bryony would never forgive her once everything came to light. She was planning on a future as a sister-in-law to a duke. She would not enjoy returning to their humble life.

He continued, “Strickland is in your pocket, as well. He’s a hard man to win over, but he is a staunch admirer of yours.”

A blush heated her face. “Lord Strickland is a gentleman.”

“A gentleman enamored of you, and trust me. He’s a hard man to impress. In fact, you’ve won him over so much that he thinks that I should in truth wed you.”

She laughed.

Marcus stared back at her soberly, his expression not cracking with humor, and her laughter faded. “Oh. I thought you were jesting.”

“He brings up a valid point. My entire family adores you, and I cannot remain a bachelor forever. I’ve heirs to produce, after all.”

She stared at him a long moment, certain she had walked into some dream where dukes proposed to shopgirls who had lied to them—about them. “That is hardly reason enough to enter into matrimony,” she whispered.

“People marry for far less.”

She winced. “I was hoping for more.”

“Ah, you’re a romantic. That’s fine and well. I don’t mind that. It means you have a tender heart.”

He didn’t mind it? But she did. She wanted more.

She wanted Struan.

“Come now, Poppy, let’s make my family the happiest people in the world this Christmas.”

She opened her mouth, knowing she should jump on such an offer. Any sane woman would. For Bryony, she should. Still, it was very confusing why he should want to marry her. “I don’t know if I can—”

“Is it because of Mackenzie?” he asked, a sudden hardness entering his voice.

She froze. What did he know of her relationship with Mackenzie?

He continued, “Strickland told me, of course. The man has been showering you with his questionable attentions, sniffing about you like the randy mutt he is. I questioned him myself, of course.”

Her head snapped up at that. “You talked to Struan?”

“Struan,” he echoed, his lip curling with distaste. “Yes, I spoke to him. You know better than to trust him, I hope.” His gaze turned flinty. “Any overtures he’s made have been done clearly to thwart me. They are not genuine. He is not a gentleman. I’m most alarmed that he had been under my roof all this time.”

She laced her fingers together, uncertain how to respond.

“I hope you have not fallen prey to him,” he added. “I know he can be persuasive. He is quite the rogue and has ruined many a chit since his arrival in Town.”

She bristled, wanting to defend Struan. She did not like the image of Struan with other women even if he was free to pursue whomever he chose. “He’s only ever conducted himself honorably with me, which is more than I can say for myself.”

The words did not feel like a lie. He’d only ever been honest with her. She was the one who had lied.

The duke waved a hand, clearly pardoning her behavior.

“I would hope that he had the decency to conduct himself honorably with you—he did not confirm or deny on that score when I pressed him.”

No, he wouldn’t. She could well envision him holding himself silent on that matter.

The duke continued, “I wouldn’t put it past him to pursue what is mine as I was bound helplessly to this bed.” His hands fisted at his sides, and suddenly she understood that this wasn’t about her for the duke. It was about this war he waged with his half brother.

“I’m not yours,” she mumbled, casting her gaze down.

“But you could be.”

Her gaze snapped back to his handsome face. Something gleamed in his eyes. It was the hot need to claim, to possess. “Why are you doing this?”

“I told you.” He shrugged. “My family loves you.”

“But you don’t,” she returned.

Again, the shrug. “I wasn’t expecting love in my marriage.”

“There’s something else motivating you.” She scrutinized him, for once not feeling self-conscious. “It’s because of your brother.”

He snorted. “He’s the last person I care about making happy.”

“Precisely,” she returned. “That’s why you’ll marry me. You think it will hurt him and you want that.”

“So you don’t deny, then, that he cares for you?” Satisfaction gleamed in his eyes. “Very good. That will be one perk.” His stare refocused on her. “But what of the perks for you? I know your situation. I know of your sister. A young girl with no prospects. No money. No male to look out for her. The world can be a frightening place for such a girl. Especially in London.”