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He took a step closer to her and rested a hand at her waist. ‘I care if my duchess becomes the target of my father’s enemies. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.’

‘I won’t be hurt. I will have footmen to keep me safe.’ She moved past him and walked through the door and into the hallway. ‘You needn’t worry.’

This discussion was not over. And she was utterly wrong. He did worry about her. The thought of her becoming a victim was unacceptable, even if it was only a minor threat.

‘I want you to return to Severn where it’s safe.’

‘I would argue that it’s safer here with you than being alone at the estate.’ Before she reached the stairs, she stopped and rested her hand on the newel post. ‘Or did you want me to leave London for a very different reason?’

‘What are you talking about?’

She studied him, and her eyes became shadowed. ‘Is this about the countess? Is that why you want me to return to Severn?’

‘This has nothing to do with Lenora.’ Was she implying that he might be unfaithful to her? Anger slid beneath his skin. ‘She made her choice, and so did I.’

‘But it wasn’t the choice you wanted.’ Her voice came out in a whisper. ‘We both know it.’

He was torn between the anguish in her tone and his own frustration that she would believe him capable of such a thing. ‘Don’t accuse me of being unfaithful to you,’ he warned. ‘I am a man of honour.’

‘In your actions, of course,’ she agreed. ‘But your heart still belongs to her. Doesn’t it?’

Alaric couldn’t understand why she kept pushing the matter. What was the point? Lenora had married someone else, just as he had. ‘Let go of the past, Charlotte. It’s meaningless.’

He understood that now. His feelings for Lenora had been superficial, unable to stand the test of time. He moved in and murmured against her ear, ‘I am married to you. And the hallway is not the place for this conversation.’

From the tight expression on her face, he wondered—was Charlotte…jealous? He could hardly believe what she was saying.

Yet last night she had told him that she wanted more in their marriage. He couldn’t give her that. Why couldn’t she understand that their union was perfectly fine the way it was? He allowed her to tend her gardens while he handled the estates. They had a mutually satisfying physical relationship.

And now she was accusing him of…what, exactly? Did she think he wanted her to leave London so he could be alone with Lenora? The thought was utterly ridiculous.

‘We can continue talking in private,’ he said smoothly, trying to usher her towards the stairs.

‘Well, I’m certainly not going to continue talking in your bedchamber,’ she shot back.

It was an odd thing to say. But from the flush on her cheeks, it made him wonder if she wasn’t entirely opposed to it.

‘Aren’t you?’ He made no effort to hide his interest, even as his hand slid to her waist again. Although her words were barbed, it didn’t seem that Charlotte was unaffected by him at all. On the contrary, she never took her eyes off him.

‘Why would I?’

His mouth grazed her ear. ‘Because you like it when I touch you.’

‘You’re wrong.’ But her breathing grew unsteady, and she glanced behind her as if expecting a servant to come upon them.

He pulled her behind the staircase, out of view of anyone who might wander by. And even if they did, he didn’t care. This was his house, and he could seduce his own duchess if he wanted to. Maybe that was what she needed—the reassurance that came from physical fulfilment.

‘I believe you purchased a naughty book, Charlotte. One you weren’t supposed to read.’ He kept his voice low, even as he trailed his hand down her shoulder towards her breast. When he cupped it, he stroked her nipple with his thumb. ‘I thought you were going to share it with me.’

His body was rock-hard with arousal, and he leaned against her, letting her know it. Her eyes widened, and she rested her hands on his chest.

‘Were you curious about what you read?’ he continued. He pressed her back against the wood and bent down to kiss her throat. ‘Maybe you wanted to learn more.’ He continued caressing her breasts, despite the layers of clothing between them.

His wife let out a shaky breath. ‘No. The book made little sense anyway.’ She rested her hands on his chest and looked at him. Her eyes held pain, but she seemed to gather her composure. ‘If this marriage is never to be more than a convenient arrangement, I’ll need some time.’

‘Time for what?’

‘Time to get over you.’ Gently, she pushed him back without saying a word. Then she stepped away from him and walked down the hallway to the back of the townhouse.