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“Very well, Your Grace,” he bowed and then left to accomplish the task he’d been assigned.
He would have to ask permission to marry her. She hadn’t told her family yet about her condition. If she had then it would have been her father, and possibly other men in her family, that had paid a call on him. He could use that to his advantage. It would be better if he had a ring on her finger before they discovered they had anticipated their wedding vows. Once she was his they couldn’t do much.
“Your bath is ready,” his valet announced.
“Perfect,” Matthew said. He’d had a lot to drink, and the bath would help him to clear his head. “Have my clothes pressed. I’m to meet with the Archbishop at dawn.” And after that he’d pay a call on Merrifield. He would need a witness at his wedding. “And tell the stablemaster to have my horse ready to depart before my meeting.” He should perhaps take a carriage, but a horse would be quicker.
“I’ll see to it,” the valet answered and left him to his bath.
Matthew settled into the water and leaned back into the tub. He closed his eyes and absorbed the warmth. He was going to be a father. Him. The rogue duke… The ton would be all aflutter with gossip once his marriage was announced. He wasn’t certain who would be more surprised: his friends, his mother, or society. Either way, it was the most entertainment he’d had in ages.
Cesca probably thought they were done. She would be in for quite the shock when he paid a call on her. Matthew looked forward to that exchange. Would she be polite or rude? He hoped she’d be rude. He liked it when she thought she had the upper hand. He could not wait to prove her wrong, but what he really wanted was to make her his. He needed her in his bed, at least one more time, and maybe then he could finally erase her from his mind. Matthew prayed that an entire night of her beneath him, living every fantasy he had of her, would be enough.
