Dukes did not explode. It simply wasn’t done.
He could hear his father’s voice inside his head, except this time it did not help to calm him. It fed the rage, mocking him for everything that he could not have. Bennett had to do something to shut all of these emotions out, so he tipped his head back and howled at the heavens in frustration, roaring like a savage going into battle in the hope that it might help. When it did not, he urged his horse forward towards the horizon and galloped like the wind.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Under certain circumstances a foreign wife is permissible. It is never appropriate, however, to entertain an American. Not only is their lineage sullied with impurities, they also harbour some worryingly Revolutionary tendencies...
He had failed to return home for dinner and Amelia was in no mood to sit with his family and pretend that nothing whatsoever was wrong. They had been understanding when she had excused herself and she had gratefully fled back up to the quiet battlements, where she could worry about him in private. A few minutes ago she had heard the unmistakable sounds of his horse returning but, like a coward, she had not gone downstairs to greet him because she was too frightened of what he would say.
‘I thought I might find you up here.’ He was smiling, a huge relief, considering, and was delightfully windswept still, and rumpled from his prolonged ride. Despite her better judgement, Amelia rushed towards him and wrapped her arms tightly around his waist, burying her face in his waistcoat.
‘I have been worrying about you.’ So much that she couldn’t think straight. ‘Why were you gone so long?’ All the tears she had been holding back trickled over her cheeks afresh.
‘Don’t cry, love.’ His arms came about her and he rested his chin on the top of her head. ‘I was in no fit state to come home. So I rode.’
‘I had no idea my father was coming here.’
‘And I had no idea that your father was a peer, so I suppose we are equal. Why didn’t you tell me that Bray was your father? I would have done something about it.’
The ‘it’ Amelia presumed he was referring to was her past. ‘The damage was done a long time ago. I try to forget about him.’
‘Well, I dare say questions will be asked now. Especially after my spectacular bout of public violence. I am still not sorry that I hit him, in case you were wondering. If I had a pistol, I would have shot him and been done with it. The man deserves nothing less. Lovett says that I thoroughly broke his nose, though, so that gives me some comfort.’ His own nose was nuzzling into the sensitive space between her ear and her shoulder, reminding her of the intoxicating effect he had on her body. ‘But I still want to kill him.’
‘That is very noble of you. Please don’t. I would hate to see you hang for someone so insignificant.’ His lips had found the shell of her ear and he nipped the soft flesh with his teeth.
‘Lie with me tonight, Amelia.’
‘That is probably not a good idea.’
‘Maybe.’ He tilted her face to his, his eyes so intense and so full of wanting that she found herself drowning in them. ‘But I am so tired of feeling lonely. Tonight, let me be just Ben. Your Ben...please.’
She answered him with a kiss because she was incapable of saying no. Even though their situation was hopeless, she still wanted one night, still needed the comfort only he could bring. Amelia sighed against his mouth and allowed her fingers to weave a lingering trail through his hair. He was right. All of the obstacles between them would still be waiting for them in the morning, but tonight she did not care. ‘Take me to bed, Ben.’
Wordlessly, he took her hand and led her back down the narrow spiral staircase, stopping halfway down to kiss her again, before leading her down a maze of dimly lit passageways and up another, even narrower, spiral staircase that went up and up. Eventually, they arrived at a heavy wooden door. Once he pushed it open, the room beyond was round.
‘Are we in the turret?’ The idea was so ridiculously romantic, yet so geographically impractical that it made her smile and he appeared delightfully sheepish as he nodded.
‘When I was a boy, I had a wooden bow and arrow which I loved. I was convinced that I was one of the knights of old and that it was my solemn pledge to protect the imaginary queen who lived up here. I kept disappearing at all hours of the day and night, so one day my mother and Uncle George moved my bedchamber here, so that I could protect the castle at all times if we came under siege.’
‘Very sensible.’ Amelia tried not to let her nerves get the better of her as he closed the solid oak door behind them and turned the heavy key in the lock.
‘For privacy,’ he said, looking suddenly worried that she might misconstrue his intention. ‘You are not a prisoner.’ For good measure, he clasped his hands behind his back and looked pained.
Amelia giggled then at the ridiculousness of it all. She had consented to be here and he had asked her to come yet, now they were here, the gravity of what they had come here to do made the atmosphere tense. It was all so ludicrous and awkward. Neither of them quite knew what to say to make it less so. Her laughter seemed to ease the tension and she was hugely relieved when he joined in. He unclasped his hands and brought them in front of him, staring at them in irritation.
‘It is a nervous habit. I am trying very hard to be less stodgy.’
‘I quite like the stodgy. It is endearing.’
He reached out and took both her hands, tugging her closer. ‘You should probably know that you are the first woman that I have ever brought here. I usually visit...um...’ He was beginning to blush and Amelia could not help teasing.
‘When you visit what? Other ladies? Brothels? Your mistress?’
‘No brothels.’ He took a step towards her. ‘And no mistress. Not any more.’ He took another step to bring his hips flush with hers and she saw the light of passion begin to simmer in his gaze. ‘In fact, my lovely Amelia, there has not been anyone in quite some time.’
Amelia enjoyed the sensation of smoothing her flattened palms over his broad chest until they came to rest on his shoulders. ‘In the spirit of honesty, then, you should probably know that there has never been anyone. Ever.’
His Adam’s apple bobbed nervously and he stared at her for several long seconds. ‘Then you honour me, Amelia.’
