Chapter Seven

H eather's heart ached so badly, she could hardly breathe. "Your Grace, you said you would not kiss me, but you did. You said you would never make me your mistress, but… And now you think you can because I let you kiss me, and then kissed you back."

Bella's ghostly laughter began to ring in her ears again, and she could not make it stop. This was tragic, not funny. She did not want to be any man's paramour, not even this one whose skin held the scent of bay spices and whose muscled arms felt like heaven.

She moaned. "I can hear Bella. She is laughing at me."

"Bloody blazes." He strode into the house through the kitchen, putting the scullery maids in a dither as he marched in with Heather tossed over his shoulder, both of them soaking wet. The hour was still early, and there could not have been very many people stirring. "Anyone utters a word about seeing me with Miss Alwyn, and you will all be sacked. Understood?"

Heather tried to kick him. What a cruel thing to say to those poor ladies! Was their life of drudgery not misery enough?

He carried her into his study and practically dumped her onto one of the tufted leather chairs before striding to the door to bolt it.

Her eyes widened as, having securely closed them in, he now approached her with a menacing stride. "Your Grace, what are you doing?"

His shirt was pasted to his body, revealing every exquisitely detailed bulge of muscle and sinew. His hair was slicked back and his expression was as granite-hard as his incredible muscles.

He planted his hands on either side of her chair and leaned in close, his dark eyes blazing. "I am trying to save your life. What do you think I am doing? Must I lock you away to keep you safe?"

"No! That is outrageous. And now everyone will know I am in here with you and believe all manner of sordid activities are going on because you've bolted the door."

"Are you berating me?"

She pursed her lips. Why was he being so stubborn? "I am merely pointing out the obvious. Will you allow me to return to my quarters and change out of my wet gown? You ought to do the same, because the water was cold and you will catch a chill if you are not careful. Besides, I am sure I am ruining the leather on your beautiful chair. Not to mention your big, wet boots tromping on the carpet."

"You are still berating me."

"I am showing concern for you. Do you think my heart is not aching because of my mistake? I completely misjudged Bella's strength and almost got you killed because of it. It is one thing to be stupid and hurt myself, but unforgivable to hurt others. I am truly sorry I ever went down there… Well, not completely sorry. Actually, not sorry at all, despite her almost killing me. I believe she wants my help."

"She has an odd way of asking for it." He eased back with a groan. "You are coming with me to the parish church. I dare not let you out of my sight again. Not ever. And do not utter another word about your ruination. Most of my guests will still be abed and not thinking of you or wondering if you and I are down to breakfast. I have already arranged for one of my maids to attend my aunt if she happens to wake before we return."

"You don't mind having me with you at St. Augustine's? I do not understand how you can stand to look at me after what I've done. Well, I am grateful, even if you only want me there because you do not trust me."

"I do trust you, but I haven't calmed down yet over that thing who tried to drown you," he said.

"Bella isn't a thing . We must find out all we can about her and her sister, and their connection to my mother."

"Run up and change. I'll meet you in the entry hall in a few minutes."

"Your Grace, what about my reputation?" she asked. "I know you don't wish to discuss it, but I cannot be seen leaving with you."

"I've assured you that you won't be seen. Only my cousin is awake, and he will not breathe a word."

"And what of our return? Everyone will talk when we walk in together. It is already a disaster that your scullery maids saw us. And it was very cruel of you to threaten them."

He arched an eyebrow, the gesture making him look handsome and sinister at the same time. "I have no intention of discharging them, if this is what worries you."

"You don't? But they do not know this and must be cowering in fear."

"That's right, as they ought to be. I want them to believe I am serious. How else will they keep silent? It is no one's business what I do or whose company I keep."

"Are you not listening? If I go with you to the church, then everyone will know we have been together. All tongues will wag. Your aunt will give me the boot, and rightfully so. Everyone in Society will hear of it because you are a bachelor duke and they are all fascinated by you."

"Do you think I care?"

"Obviously, you don't. But it is my good name at stake, so I care very much. Women drop at your feet or, more accurately, fall into your bed. All you have to do is nod in their direction and they come running. This is what they'll think I have done. Who will hire me then? And what good will your recommendation be? They'll all think you gave it because I was your… you know ."

He appeared irritatingly calm about the whole thing as he said, "I have a solution for that problem."

"I do not want to hear your solution," she said, truly uncomfortable for the droplets falling on her nose and running down her neck. She hoped the seawater had not permanently ruined her gown and boots, for she could not afford to purchase replacements. "I will not be your mistress."

"I had no such thing in mind."

"Then do you think to fob me off on one of the bachelors at your party as you have done with your peahens? Your matchmaking skills won't work for me because I haven't a shilling to my name, or any worthwhile family connections."

"I know of someone who will take you exactly as you are."

"Then he is an idiot." She frowned, truly weary of this pointless discussion. Yes, she wanted to go to the church with him and explore their records. But she did not think the risk was worth it. She would go on her own next Wednesday on her afternoon off.

What a hideous morning this was turning out to be. What could he possibly say to her to make things better?

He emitted a deliciously soft laugh. "An idiot, is he?"

She nodded. "Utter and complete. Not even I would marry me if given the chance."

"Heather, you are priceless," he said with a glint of mirth in his eyes. "Come to church with me."

"And be ruined?"

"Do not be dense." He ran his knuckles lightly along her cheek in an achingly sweet caress. "To arrange for the banns to be read. What if I were the one to marry you?"

She stopped breathing.

Truly, she could not catch a breath. "You would marry me?"

Was he real? Or had the ghost taken over his body?

"You don't believe me. Must I kiss you again?"

She nodded, for one should be able to tell if a cold, dead thing had its lips on yours.

He drew her out of the chair and wrapped his arms around her. "Your Grace, I—"

"Be quiet, Heather." His beautifully shaped mouth closed over hers with unexpected heat and a possessive hunger.

Her bones turned liquid, which was appropriate, since they were both soaked to the skin. There was something scorching and shocking about their wet bodies pressed together.

Sweet mercy!

What was she thinking?

She pushed out of his arms with a sob.

"Oh, my elf princess. Do not doubt that I am offering to marry you. Will you have me, Heather? Will you have me for your husband?"

"Then you are serious?"

He nodded and held his arms out to her. "Upon my oath."

As his words sank in, every moment of strain and fear since her father's death suddenly poured out of her. She flung herself in his arms and began to shed tears in earnest. She hadn't dared cry since the day her father passed and she learned he had left her with nothing.

She still loved her father.

But did she not also have the right to be angry with him for leaving her so abandoned?

The duke kissed her brow. "No more tears, for I have you now, and no one will ever hurt you again."

She looked up at him, knowing he had to care something for her or he never would have made the offer. But he was also quite honorable and probably blamed himself for being somehow responsible for the ghost. Just because the caves were on his property? How could any of this be his fault? Or was his offer prompted by pity?

"I cannot think when I am around you," she said in a ragged whisper, no longer caring to know the exact reason. "I cannot breathe. Will you be angry if I tell you that I am in love with you? It cannot come as a surprise, since I doubt there is a woman alive who does not feel this way about you."

"As long as you are among them," he said with a chuckle. "I think it is time you called me Ruarke."

She nodded. "Ruarke… Ruarke . I tried so hard to avoid you. I thought you were curt, brooding, arrogant, and I did not want to like you. But my heart had other ideas. It is awful that your every frown or scowl or obnoxious tip of your chin endeared you to me all the more."

"Heather," he said with a soft laugh, "I don't know whether to love you all the more or feel insulted."

She emitted a ragged breath and smiled up at him. "Please, love me. Do you think it is possible someday? For I have lost my heart to you and love you so very much."

He kissed her softly on the mouth. "Yes, Heather. It is quite possible."