The Heir

When they arrived at the library, he pulled the cushions from the window seats and fashioned a nest on the floor with those and the blankets. Retrieving the champagne bottle from the hamper and cracking one window, he settled cross-legged on the blanket and watched her as A

“Have some.” He held up the bottle. “We can swill from the bottle like heathens if it won’t offend you.” She joined him and took a pull from the bottle.

“You are sworn to secrecy,” she warned him. “Mrs. Seaton does not tipple.”

“Neither does Westhaven.” He followed her example. “Heir to a bloody duke, you know.”

In that moment, she lost a piece of her heart to him. His hair was curling damply against his neck, his clothing was in disarray, and he was sitting cross-legged on the floor of an empty room, swilling champagne. In that posture, in his dishevelment, with grave humor dancing in his green eyes, the Earl of Westhaven was impossibly dear to her.

“I like that look in your eye, A

“You are lusty,” she said, not a little surprised.

“Not particularly,” the earl said, passing her the bottle. “Or not any more than others of my age and station. But I am lusty as hell with you, dear lady.”

His expression softened, the humor shifting to a tenderness she hadn’t seen in him before.

She put aside the bottle. “That look does not bode well for a mere housekeeper who wants to preserve her paltry little reputation.”

He reached into the hamper to retrieve her hairbrush, untying a hair ribbon from its handle. “We traveled in an open carriage, A

“That isn’t the magnitude of the problem, and you know it.”

“I can see we are going to have a substantial discussion. At least let me put your hair to rights so you can’t glare at me while we do.”

“I do not reproach you for what happened outside,” A

“Good.” The earl kissed her neck. “I want to reproach myself, but at present, I just feel too damned pleased with life, you know? Perhaps in a day or two I will get around to being ashamed, but, A

She could hear the uncharacteristic smile in his voice, and thought: I put that smile there, just by sharing with him a few minutes of self-indulgence.

“I am not ashamed, either.” A

“You will not be my mistress,” Westhaven said, sifting his hands through her hair in long, gentle sweeps. “And you did not sound too keen on being a wife.”

A

“Why not?” He started with the brush in the same slow, steady movements. “Taking a husband has some advantages, you know.”

“Name one.”

“He brings you pleasure,” the earl said, his voice dropping. “Or he damned well should. He provides for your comfort, gives you babies. He grows old with you, providing companionship and friendship; he shares your burdens and lightens your sorrows. Good sort of fellow to have around, a husband.”

“Hah.” A

“He owns you and the produce of your body,” she retorted. “He has the right to demand intimate access to you at any time or place of his choosing, and strike you and injure you should you refuse him, or simply because he considers you in need of a beating. He can virtually sell your children, and you have nothing to say to it. He need not be loyal or faithful, and still you must admit him to your body, regardless of his bodily or moral appeal, or lack thereof. A very dangerous and unpleasant thing, a husband.”

The earl was silent behind her, winding her hair into a long braid.

“Were your parents happy?” he asked at length.

“I believe they were, and my grandparents were.”

“As are mine, as were mine,” the earl said, fishing her hair ribbon out of his pocket and tying off her braid. “Can you not trust yourself, A

“The choice of a woman’s husband is often not hers, and the way a man presents himself when courting is not how he will necessarily behave when his wife is fat with his third child a few years later.”

“A housekeeper sees things from a curious and unpleasant perspective.” He hunched forward to wrap his arms around her shoulders. “But, A

“They are happy,” A

“You will not be my mistress,” the earl said again, “and you are very leery of becoming a wife, but what, A

He said the words close to her ear, the heat and scent of him surrounding her, and she couldn’t stop the shudder that passed through her at his question.

“Most women,” she said as evenly as she could, “would not object to becoming a duchess, but look at your parents’ example. Had I to become your father’s duchess, I would likely do the man an injury.”

“And what if you were to become my duchess?” the earl whispered, settling his lips on the juncture of her shoulder and neck. “Would that be such a dangerous and unpleasant thing?”

She absorbed the question and understood that he was asking a hypothetical question, not offering a proposal. In that moment, her heart broke. It flew into a thousand hurting pieces, right there in her chest. Her breath wouldn’t come, her lungs felt heavy with pain, and an ache radiated out from her middle as if old age were overcoming her in the space of an instant.

And even if it had been a proposal, she was in no position to accept.

“A

“You would not,” she said, swallowing around the lump in her throat. “Whomever you took to wife would be very, very blessed.”

“So you will have me?” He drew her back against him, resting an arm across her collarbones.

“Have you?”A

“I am proposing to you,” he said. “If you’ll have me as your husband, I would like you to be my duchess.”

“Oh, God help us,” A

He rose slowly. “That is not an expression of acceptance.”

“You do me great honor,” A

“No my lording,” he chided. “Not after the way we’ve been behaving, A

“It will have to be my lording, and Mrs. Seatoning, as well, until I can find another post.”

“I never took you for a coward, A

“Were I free to accept you,” she said, turning to face him, “I would still be hesitant.” She left the my lord off, not wishing to anger him needlessly, but it was there in her tone, and he no doubt heard it.

“What would cause your hesitation?”

“I’m not duchess material, and we hardly know each other.”

“You are as much duchess material as I am duke material,” he countered, “and few titled couples know each other as well as we already do, A