Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

C hristine tried not to squeeze the Duke's arm as they walked through the house. Her heart was beating frantically, and for some reason, she needed to be away from her father before she exhaled fully. It should have been the other way around, waiting until the Duke was gone to relax, but she felt he knew her better than most, and they had barely spent fifteen minutes together.

She almost burst into fits of giggles.

Fifteen minutes of courtship! I can't get married to him after only knowing him for fifteen minutes! I don't want to get married to anyone, let alone him!

"Why are you squeezing my arm so tightly?" the Duke asked. "Are you afraid I will change my mind and run off?"

"You can run off if you like," Christine replied.

"No," the Duke said. "I am fine where I am."

Christine could now only think about her grip on the Duke's arm, and as they passed out into the gardens, she ensured she did not grip him too tightly while not letting go of his arm. The simple act consumed her.

The gardens provided a breath of fresh air, and Christine breathed out fully. She had not been holding her breath, but the long exhale helped calm her beating heart and stop her chest from exploding with the shallowness of her breaths.

She took a quick look behind to see her father at the parlor window, and she diverted their course to walk toward the large hedges on the side of the house. She had a feeling that her father would not like to see them arguing.

If I can show him what a mistake he is making, we won't have to go through with this ridiculous charade. Who does he think he is? I am not some maiden who needs to be rescued at the slightest sign of trouble.

"You really don't want me to run off, do you?" the Duke quipped.

Christine scoffed, knowing her father could not see her face. She did not speak just yet and gripped onto the Duke's arm, not caring now that she was holding him too tight. They walked between the hedges, rows of sparrows and starlings, creating a choir of birdsong, light and chirpy.

Only when they were amongst the thick green foliage did Christine let go of the Duke and stop.

"What is your game?" Christine stuck her fists to her hips as if they were magnetized and shook her head dismissively. "What do you really need?"

"And there she is." The Duke smiled and lifted his head, looking around at the tall hedges.

"Oh, stop!" Christine demanded. "You are up to something, and I want to know what it is."

"I am not up to anything," the Duke replied.

"Yes, you are. I know how I come across to men, so I know my sparkling personality does not entice you. What is it? Do you need money? Is that it? Well, my father does not have a lot of money. Are you trying to escape from someone? Are you going to jail? Is there some ruling that marriage will keep you out of jail?"

The Duke stood before her with a half-smile playing on his lips, obviously amused by her words.

"Don't look at me like that," she said.

"I can look at you however I like, my dear," the Duke replied.

"And don't call me, my dear."

"I can call you what I wish." The Duke reached out and rubbed a leaf between his fingers. "You will be my wife."

"So," Christine spat. "That does not mean a thing. I won't be a good wife, you know. If the constables come for you, I won't give you an alibi. In fact, I will invent stories about you so you will go to jail. You would be better off leaving here and not coming back."

"Don't tell me what to do." The smile was gone, and a snarl played on the Duke's lips. "I have patience for most people but not when they go out of their way to aggravate me."

Christine wanted to argue back, but it felt like the words had been sucked from her mind, and all she could do was stand before the Duke and nod. The words slowly came back, and when they did, she realized she was being rather rude.

"I apologize," Christine told him. "I did not enjoy the ball last night, and I did not enjoy being surprised by your visit and your demands."

The stern look drooped from the Duke's face, and he looked almost agreeable again. Christine filed away the information for later—the Duke could move between being utterly charming to a man not to be trifled with in a moment.

She also filed away the feeling that had crept into her chest when she had been shocked by his sudden change. She should have been scared by the sternness, but it invoked a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach. Most men she came across were false in their emotions and words, so they could get what they wanted.

She did not like the Duke, but he was real and honest.

If I don't like him, why do I feel so drawn to him when he is angry at me?

"I made no demands," the Duke told her. "I asked your father for your hand in marriage, and he eagerly accepted."

"What?" Christine gasped, trying to keep her emotions in check. "Why would you do that? Why do you care what happens to me?"

"You would be ruined otherwise," the Duke replied. "You would not recover from a scandal like this. I am a Duke and need a wife, but I have not pursued one. You are a fine woman, beautiful and honest. You have a strong sense of justice, and I appreciate that in a person. This makes the most sense for the two of us."

"I don't know what to say." Christine tried not to argue, but she could not help herself. "I thought… Well, you did ditch my sister in the middle of the dance floor."

"I did." The smirk was back on his lips. "And a good thing for you that I did, or I might have come for her hand instead, and you would not have the pleasure of my company for the rest of your life."

Christine did not want to think about what the Duke had just said about the rest of her life. "Well, it was still rude to do what you did."

The Duke shook his head gently. "Ditching your sister or being alone with you afterward? Perhaps it is not that you feel a great injustice had been dealt but that you want me all to yourself?" The Duke raised his eyebrows quickly.

Christine spun to the side so quickly that she almost caught her dress on the jagged hedgerow. "Oh, get over yourself, Your Grace. You might be handsome and charming, but you are far from the most eligible man in London. My sister deserved better than that."

"Handsome and charming," the Duke mused. His smile grew a little wider.

Christine could not stand the way he spoke. He took everything she said and twisted it around.

Perhaps he does not twist it all. I must learn to stop the pleasantries, even if they are true.

"Yes, you are handsome and charming," Christine stated plainly. "I don't deny what is true, but that does not mean a thing to me. There are many handsome and charming men, but I am not attracted to them."

"I don't need you to be attracted to me," the Duke replied. "Still, I saw the way you looked at me last night."

"Oh!" Christine spun on the spot to face away from the Duke, almost catching her dress again. She had to hide the pinkness creeping onto her cheeks. "I looked at you no such way."

"Then turn around and look at me now," the Duke said. "Come on, you wanted more than just to talk on the verandah."

"I did not!" Christine gasped.

She could not turn around, not when he spoke the truth. It had been a moment of weakness, and she had imagined what it would have been like to kiss him, but that did not mean she wanted to kiss him. The evening was so fraught with emotion that she had thought a million things.

"Don't worry; I thought the very same thing," the Duke said.

Christine wanted to argue against him, but it was what he wanted. The more she argued, the more it would seem there really was something between them that she tried to deny. She would have imagined kissing anyone in the same situation.

Then what does that make me?

"I thought about a lot more than only kissing you, Lady Christine."

Christine was rooted to the spot, and she did not know if the redness would ever leave her cheeks.

"You looked sublime in your dress. I was not lying when I told you why I was looking at you. You are a woman that any man would be happy to have in their bed."

Silence still encompassed Christine. The words from the Duke, while crass, cloaked her in warmth, and even though the pinkness was contained only to her cheeks, her entire body felt as if it were glowing.

"I will admit that I was rude to your sister, but only because you shone much brighter than her. Do you know who I was thinking about when I was dancing with her?"

Christine could still see the look in his eyes when he had been dancing with Irene. She had not been able to look away from the couple at first, but that slowly changed into not being able to look away from the Duke.

"It was your body I yearned to be pressed up against on the dance floor."

Christine's stomach spun as if she had just dropped from a great height. "Oh, my! Th-that is inappropriate to talk about, Your Grace."

"Then I listened to your sweet voice and sharp words on the verandah, and I knew you were a woman I wanted to know better," he continued.

Christine spun around. "Stop it, Your Grace. You do not need to sweet talk me into marrying you. My father has agreed to it, and I have little say in the matter."

"I am not trying to sweet talk you. I speak the truth, much as you do. You are a beautiful woman, and there is no denying that. You are infuriating, of course, and I admit that few men could stand your emotional outbursts, but I am a busy man, so we will have little time to get into that."

"Yes, well, you are handsome and charming, but you are also rude, boorish, and a rake."

The Duke laughed. "I am glad we are being honest with each other, but must you turn everything into an argument or a competition, or both?"

"You wish to know who you are marrying? I make no apologies for who I am."

"Neither do I," the Duke replied.

"Then, we are in agreement for the first time," Christine sniped.

"And perhaps the last," the Duke admitted.

"Yes, the very last."

The Duke scoffed. "I will also add getting in the last word to your list of character faults."

"Well—" Christine stopped herself to prove a point. She did not need to have the last word.

The Duke regarded her. He stepped a little closer, and Christine knew exactly what he was doing. He needed to push people and get a reaction, and while she was always forthcoming with reactions, she was also stubborn. Christine clamped her mouth closed.

"No? No last word?" the Duke asked. "Everything is settled?"

Christine vibrated as the Duke closed in on her. She desperately wanted to say something, if only to break the tension. She wanted to rebuff him, if only to stop thinking about his firm lips. She might not like the words that spouted forth from them, but she did like how they looked, and… she quickly averted her gaze when she realized she was staring intently at them.

Her eyes roamed around, and she did not want to look away from him or back down from his challenge, but she also did not want to look at him.

"We are to be married with no issues," the Duke said. "Just a handsome duke and a gorgeous lady? Two eligible people who don't like each other but can't wait for our wedding night."

"I suppose," Christine said with a shrug.

She could not look him in the eyes, but she could not look at his body, either. Every time her eyes flickered to his chest, she began to imagine what was below his shirt. And she did not dare look down from there. She tried to hold her ground, both physically and mentally, but everything was crumbling beneath her

And the smell! His aroma was intoxicating. She only really knew her father's cologne, and it was very old-fashioned. She could not quite place the multitude of smells in the Duke's fragrance, but he must have had it shipped over from the continent.

No one had ever made her feel this way before. He was the most infuriating man she had ever met, but she needed to be close to him to discover what would happen next.

Yet, when his lips came dangerously close to hers, she had to act. She was curious to kiss him, to feel what it was like, but everything was moving too quickly. She had not yet accepted that she was to be married. She did not want to be married to the Duke, but every time she thought about it, her mind wandered to the wedding night.

I can't think like that! He is a rake, and I will only be another conquest to him.

She despised the thought, but it would be different. They would be married, and it was expected, so she wouldn't only be a conquest. Christine tried to comfort herself with the fact. She tried to justify her needs with it.

When his lips touched her, lightning shot through her, and she jerked back, almost stumbling over.

"I can't," she gasped. "I mean, it is not right, is it? You only want to…"

"To what?" the Duke asked. "To kiss you? Yes, I do."

It was a challenge, but one where he only could win. Kiss him, and he would get what he wanted. Don't kiss him, and she would have backed down. Yet, she had backed down.

What is it I want? Do I want to kiss him? Do I want to feel his strong lips on me? Do I want more than only a kiss?

Christine did not want to know the answer to any of the questions. They created an uncertainty within her.

"There is a wedding to plan," she blurted, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. "I should go back to the house."

Christine spun around and walked quickly before she did something she would regret.

Or worse, something she would very much enjoy.