Chapter 7

Dominic continued to fume as he made his way down the busy London street. Why had it felt as if he were cheating on Marie when she hadn't even agreed to marry him? It wasn't as if they were promised to one another, yet she consumed his thoughts to an almost intoxicating level where he needed to know why she didn't want him.

He couldn't even say if the woman in White's was an attractive one or not; his mind had been so far away that all he could recall was the red hair that made him angrier than he needed to be. He shook off the feelings of resentment that he felt toward the other woman, and hurried along to Marie's shop.

The small bell above the door tinkled as he stepped inside, looking around the deserted room. He wondered where everyone had gone as a deep frown creased his brows.

"Dominic?" Marie's voice was soft and tired as she said his name from the back of the shop.

Turning, he noticed her standing in the doorway that led to what seemed to be a small kitchenette. "I thought you would be busy?" He felt his anger dissipating as he noted the tired look in her eyes.

"I was this morning, but it has been a trying day, and the afternoon has only just begun. Was there something you wanted?" She tried to hide the sigh that lifted her chest before deflating along with her efforts to appear unbothered.

Dominic swore internally as he clenched his jaw. He had been on his way to give her a piece of his mind and demand an answer, but now, all he could think about was asking her why she looked so tired.

Why does this woman have such a hold over me?

He allowed his eyes to take in the strands of loose blonde curls that hung beside her face. Had she been running her fingers through her hair in frustration?

"Has something happened?" He gave into the nagging urge to hear her out instead of confronting her.

Marie shook her head and turned back to the kitchen, gathering a few cups and saucers. "I may as well tell you; you were there at the ball when it all happened. My landlord is demanding double the rent from next week if I do not agree to marry him." She placed the cups and saucers in the sink before leaning against the cupboard with her eyes shut.

The look of utter defeat tugged at his heart. She seemed so vulnerable in contrast to all the times that she'd stood her ground in front of him, annoyingly forcing him into the onslaught of matches that had been so unsuccessful for him.

"Is there nowhere else that you can rent?" He felt like taking her by the shoulders and shaking sense into her. The solution seemed so easy to him when they could just get married.

"Not anywhere that I could afford and still keep our house along with everything that my grandmother needs." She stood up straight and turned to him.

"Then why not marry me?" He took a step toward her and searched her eyes, stopping just in front of her as he met her gaze.

Her breathing seemed to deepen as she took a moment to look up at him, her lips parting ever so slightly. "Your Grace, I know that I said I need a marriage of convenience, but there is still a part of me that hopes that my future husband and I would at least be fond of each other."

"Do you believe in love?" He felt puzzled at her admission. One of the things that he thought they had in common was the fact that neither of them believed in true love. He knew that she believed in love for the matches she made but not for herself.

Her expression softened a little as the corner of her mouth hooked into a smile. "The funny thing is that I haven't given it a lot of thought until now. I never thought of myself as ever getting married, but I saw a young girl this morning. She is willing to give up the life she knows for a man far beneath her station. The serene look in her eyes when she spoke of love made me wonder what life could be like if it could exist."

Something in the back of his mind tugged at his chest. He didn't believe in true love or siring an heir when the illusion of happiness could so easily be swept away. Yet, was she trying to say that she could never love him?

"That's beside the point anyway. I can't think straight with all of this going on. I need to focus on finding a good match as soon as possible. My savings will only carry us through the first two months if the rent is raised at the end of the week." She shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest before stepping away from him.

"What if the problem with the rent goes away? Will you still need to find a suitor as soon as possible?" He kept his eyes fixed on her as she turned to look at him with a frown.

"No, I don't suppose that I would. I could carry on with business as usual, but I don't see how that is possible or even likely." She shook her head out of frustration.

"If there is no need for you to marry as soon as possible, will you consider my proposal? Will you throw out that blasted list of suitors that I know you've been working on for yourself?" He took a step toward her again, breathing in the heavenly scent of vanilla that enticed him.

Marie seemed shocked as she looked up at him. "Why would you want to marry me if there is no longer a need to help me?" Her question caught him off guard.

Why does it have to be her?

The question tugged at his heart before he could push it aside. "I still need to marry someone in order for my grandmother to leave me alone. Out of all the women in London, you seem the most tolerable," he blurted out the first reason that came to mind.

She cocked her head to the side with a defiant look that had been missing before. "The most tolerable? That is quite a compliment coming from you, I am sure. I can't wait to tell everyone that the grand Duke of Wiltshire finds me to be the most tolerable woman in London."

Irritation set in again as he glared down at her. "Why do you have to be so obstinate all the time?"

"I'm not sure, Your Grace. Why do you have to be so pig-headed and stubborn to a fault?" She raised her voice a little as she narrowed her eyes at him. "I have heard many reasons for wanting to get married, and I can assure you that someone being the most tolerable is the worst one yet!"

Dominic clenched his jaw so tightly that his teeth began to ache. "You know what? I have had just about enough of your cheek!"

"Good! Then maybe you will leave me alone or at least accept one of the less tolerable women in London to be your wife. Although I can't say that I can think of any who will accept at this point!"

He came forward and looked down at her until his nose was almost touching the tip of hers. "Don't tempt me into an argument, Miss Webster, unless you are willing to handle the consequences…" His gaze fell to her lips as he felt the irresistible pull that he so often did in her presence.

The urge to pull her into his arms and sample the taste of her perfect lips became almost too tempting as she parted her lips and let out a silent breath. Her eyes were intoxicatingly beautiful in the late afternoon sun that shone through the open doors.

"I will not marry you, Your Grace, no matter how many times you ask me to." Her voice almost seemed unsure as her eyes dropped to his lips and then quickly came back up again.

Lifting his hand, he brushed her cheek with the back of his knuckles and practically pressed his body into hers as he came closer.

"Why not?" Dominic growled hungrily, fighting the urge to give in to his carnal desires. He wanted to push her against the table and make her yield to him, yet the need to know her answer kept him from acting on any of those desires.

"There are a million reasons, Your Grace, none of which I need to justify to you." Her breathing deepened again as her chest began to rise and fall, displaying her breasts that strained to escape the confines of her corset.

He tore his eyes away from her breasts and gazed into her eyes, noticing the fire that burned deep within the depths of green and blue.

What is she thinking when she looks at me like that?

"There is something that I must do now, but I will wait for your answer. If there is no reasonable explanation as to why you cannot marry me, then I shall not give up." His voice was thick with lust as he cleared his throat and dropped his hand.

A deep blush had crept up her neck and spread over her cheeks as she gasped for a breath.

Was she holding her breath, thinking that I would kiss her?

He took a step away from her when he realized that nothing would hold him back from acting upon his desires if he didn't leave soon.

Marie closed her mouth and swallowed hard before taking a step back. "I am not sure why you cannot accept my reply, Your Grace, but there are bigger problems that I need to deal with right now."

He felt his resolve beginning to melt as he struggled to regain control of his breathing. "I will wait for your answer," he managed to speak calmly while fighting the urge to kiss her.

I have to leave.

He brushed past her on his way out the door, taking in a deep breath of sweet vanilla before stepping into the alley. If the sun was anything to go by, he knew that Christopher would still be at White's. He needed to get there and pull him out of whatever situation he had gotten himself tangled in. If his plan was to work, then he needed Christopher at his side.