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Four
So many emotions crossed over his face as he took in her words. It was almost entertaining to watch. First shock, then denial, followed quickly by anger. His cheeks were now flushed a bright red, and his hands had curled into fists. Francesca didn’t think he’d hurt her, but she couldn’t be certain. She prayed she hadn’t made a mistake coming to see him alone.
“I don’t believe you,” he said in a defiant tone. “Whatever you are hoping to gain by lying to me now…it will not work. You can crawl back under the hole you were buried in. I am not claiming any brat you might be carrying. If you are enceinte, and I doubt you are, it is not my child.”
Francesca sighed. She wished she had expected a different response, but she hadn’t. A man who seduced an innocent girl and then abandoned her would not take responsibility for his actions. She really had a terrible judge of character, and the bad taste to fall in love with a reprobate. The sad truth was she did indeed still harbor feelings for him. She wished she didn’t but for whatever reason her stubborn heart wouldn’t let go of hope he felt the same way about her.
“Hole?” She lifted a brow. “You think I am some poor relation that everyone takes pity on.” Francesca stood and faced him. “Why would you ever believe such a thing? As if I’m not worthy of your, or anyone’s attention.” Anger pierced her soul and she never wanted to punch a person as much as she did him. “This child, and much to my dismay, yes, there is one growing inside of me…isyours.” She emphasized that last word. “I cannot make you accept that, but it is the truth.”
He seemed a bit flummoxed. “You were dirty and had paint in your hair that day.”
“So that made you assume I was…less?” She might give in to the urge to hit him. “Even if I had been that is no way to treat a woman. There were consequences, and there is a price for that spot of pleasure we found together.” It hurt so damn much to say that aloud. Facing him was so hard and she kept fighting the urge to cry. She refused to let him see her hurting so much. “What makes you believe you have the right to use women as your personal toys?” The more she learned disgust filled her. This was the man she’d foolishly fell in love with?
“Because they let me,” he said in an irritable tone. “And you were no different, and still aren’t, than all the ones that came before you.” He sneered at her and his disrespect for her gender flowed through his voice. “You want my title and nothing more.”
“I didn’t know your title when you seduced me.” She glared at him. Francescawouldhit him before she left. “And I didn’t know it until earlier today. It never mattered to me. I’m not impressed with a dukedom.”
“Another lie,” he said casually. He honestly didn’t believe her. “Why else were you there that night? A duke’s Christmas party?”
She laughed hysterically. Francesca had never gotten around to telling him about her family connections. He had wondered how often she’d visited Seabrook. She’d never mentioned her grandfather was the Duke of Weston or that her father would inherit that title one day. That Christmastide house party had been at her Aunt Elizabeth’s house…the Duchess of Whitewood. In short, Francesca was surrounded by the aristocracy, and high-ranking titles. She wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. “We’re a fine pair.” She managed to get her laughter under control. “Neither one of us were aware of who each other were. I’m a fool.” She met his gaze and told him, “But you, Your Grace, are a bigger one.”
“I doubt that.” His tone was nonchalant and dismissive. “I’m not the one about to be ruined forever.”
“Keep telling yourself that, but you’re wrong.” She leaned forward as if sharing a secret. “My father and grandfather will ruin you, and if that doesn’t work, my uncle will. He used to be a pirate after all.”
He blanched at her words. It might be just occurring to him who she was related to. The rumors of Uncle Jack’s pirating days were truth, but no one really believed them. “Those are just words. They cannot touch me.”
“Because you are a duke?” She grinned with malice shining through her eyes. “It’s all right if you do not believe me. I decided you’re not worthy of me or my child. I can find someone far better than you.” Francesca came to her feet preparing to leave. “But I want you to know one thing…I do not forgive you, and I will be honest with my family now that we’ve spoken. They will not take this slight lightly.”
“I do not care,” he said in a flippant tone.
“You will,” she promised him. “Because my grandfather is the Duke of Weston and he has far more sway than you ever will.” Francesca strolled over to him and leaned down to whisper in his ear. “My father is the Marquess of Blackthorn, and yes, my uncle is the Duke of Whitewood.” She stood straight and then tilted her lips upward into a wicked smile. Two could play this game. “You, Your Grace, are now on borrowed time. Enjoy what you have left.”
With those words she left him alone to consider his choices. She wouldn’t tell her father…yet. He’d call the duke out or something worse. Francesca didn’t want to marry him, but it was the best solution for her and the baby. They could maintain separate lives after. If he didn’t make an offer for her by the day after her comeout ball, then she’d tell her family.
Matthew satfor a very long time in his sitting room after she’d left. He had thought she was high born, but he hadn’t realized how connected the chit was, and now he found himself in quite a mess.
He should offer for the girl. It was the right thing to do, and he might not find himself dead after her family came after him. She was right about Whitewood. That one had a look in his eyes that said he’d exact retribution and not think twice about it. Winchester had compromised Whitewood’s daughter, and now he was married to that chit. They would expect the same from Matthew.
Bloody hell…
Cursing and wishing he could change what he’d done wouldn’t help him. He’d told everyone that would listen he’d never marry, and he didn’t want to now. Even if she carried his child, he didn’t want to tie himself to her forever.
His child…
Something about the idea of his baby growing inside her did odd things to him. He wanted to see her belly get round as his child flourished. He’d already been fascinated by her, but now? He wanted her even more. She’d been so defiant, and bold as she spoke to him. His cock had hardened even more when she dressed him down for the fool he was, and she had been right about that too—he was the biggest arse in existence. He’d never admit it to her though. Matthew should have known about her connections. Most of the guests at that house party had been related in some fashion. Even if she’d been a distant cousin the Duke of Whitewood would not have appreciate Matthew seducing her.
Matthew should never have let her go. He hadn’t wanted to believe her, but if she was expecting, the child had to be his. She didn’t seem the type to fall into bed with many men. Before he made a decision, he would have to learn more about her. Matthew would not make the same mistake twice. He couldn’t allow her to take advantage of him. If his Cesca was telling the truth, his mother would be very happy. Matthew would be able to present her with his duchess and an heir on the way. In many ways that also appealed to him. He could marry her and then dump her with his mother. If his luck held out, she’d have a boy and he’d never have to see her again.
The more time he had to consider it he liked that idea. He would pay a call on the Archbishop and apply for a special license. Matthew believed in being prepared. If he had to marry her, he would have to do it soon. She might start showing soon and that wouldn’t do. His duchess had to be above reproach, and he would ensure she stayed that way.
He stood and went up to his chambers. Matthew would need a bath and his best clothes if he planned on visiting the Archbishop. He’d have to bribe the holy man with a lot of funds, but it would be worth it to secure the license. They wouldn’t have time to wait. Cesca should have come to him sooner. Perhaps he was being too hard on her there. How could she have? They hadn’t been forthcoming with their names. She had probably had to discover his identity and it had cost them both precious time.
He pulled the bell for his valet. “Have a bath drawn.” Matthew told him when he arrived in his bedchamber.
“Now?” his valet asked. There was a little bit of shock in the man’s tone. Matthew couldn’t blame him. He didn’t often ask for a bath in the middle of the night. Actually, he didn’t believe he ever had before.
Matthew grinned. It was late but he didn’t plan on sleeping. He had much to do and not a lot of time to accomplish it all. “Yes, now,” he ordered.
