“A relic of my mother’s, no doubt!” He chortled.
“Or you are a secret fan of feminine pursuits.”
“Here’s a perfect book for you,” James said, holding up a book on architecture. “It can give you ideas on how to renovate the house, since you seem intent on redecorating and clearing out every single room.”
“Could be helpful,” she acknowledged, taking the book from him. “I do have big plans for the house. You won’t recognize it when I’m done.”
James’s face sobered somewhat. “Why are you so intent on changing things?” he asked. “Don’t get me wrong, I’ve warmed up to the idea, and I’m actually relieved that someone is determined to give the place a new look, but I’m surprised you’re so keen on it. There are many other things you could be doing, as a titled, wealthy lady, that didn’t involve housework.”
“Perhaps it’s because my father’s house never felt like home,” she murmured, tilting her head to the side. “And now that I have my own house, I finally have the chance to make it feel like home. Somewhere warm and cozy, where I can grow old in peace and safety.”
“That is a good goal,” James said gently. “And I want you to think of this place as your home.” He opened his arms wide. “You now have my permission—not that you need it—to transform the house as you see fit. I won’t get in your way. And if you really want to do it without the help of the servants, thenI will support you in that, too.” He frowned as he lowered his arms.
“Maybe you’ll get a nickname as well, to go along with your reputation. I’ll be the Devilish Duke, and you’ll be the Duchess Who Dusts.” He chuckled at his own joke. “Not a bad duo we make, eh? The oddball Duke and Duchess of Attorton.”
Violet wasn’t sure exactly what made her do it. All she knew was that suddenly, she had stepped forward, placed a tentative hand on her husband’s chest, and with the other, reached up and stroked his cheek very lightly. His eyes widened in surprise, but she didn’t wait for him to push her away. Standing up on tiptoe, she raised her lips to his and kissed him.
Several agonizing heartbeats passed, during which they both stood very still, as if petrified, their lips touching.
Violet didn’t move. She didn’t dare to.
What have I done? Will he kiss me back?!
And then he did.
The Duke was suddenly embracing her passionately. His hands ran over her arms, her back, her head, his fingers twisting in her hair. He pressed his lips to hers, then her jaw, then her neck. His body was strong and needy, and she found herself flush against the bookcase. The spines of the books were digging into her back, but she didn’t care because she was so lost in the kiss…
And then he pulled away from her. She was breathless, her legs wobbly, supported only by the bookcase. Her cheeks were flushed, and she felt as if she had been transported to another world.
A world where handsome, dangerous dukes kissed her as if there was no tomorrow, where romance and love were possible, where she was the type of woman who could get a happily ever after.
Joy coursed through her, and she looked up at her husband, ready to see the same happiness and excitement on his face that she knew was on hers.
Instead, she saw a dark, clouded, angry expression.
“J-James?” she stuttered. “What’s wrong?”
“This cannot happen again,” he said, his voice so harsh and cold that she flinched. “I shouldn’t have lost control like that. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry,” she whispered. “It was wonderful.”
“It was a mistake.” Her husband turned to fully face her, and she shrank back. There was a look of pure revulsion in his eyes.
Tears pricked her eyes. She had never felt so rejected by anyone in her entire life.
“Why are you saying this?” she whispered. “Why can’t we just be happy, James?”
“I will leave you now.” He bowed stiffly. “And I promise you, that will not happen again.”
He turned and left the library, slamming the door shut behind him. Violet slid down to the ground and hugged her knees. The tears finally came, rolling down her cheeks and wetting the front of her dress.
“After everything we’ve shared, he still doesn’t want me,” she whispered to the room. “And he never will.”
Chapter Seventeen
“Iwant this dealt with once and for all!” James roared, anger pulsing through every inch of his body as he glared around the room.
He was surrounded by several constables from Scotland Yard, who had gathered in the Magistrate’s office at his request to discuss the situation with Farrell.
