AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“What did you mean, then?”
He could see her thinking, the struggle on her face. “I meant that …”
A blush creeped up her neck, into her cheeks. He almost laughed, realizing that his boldness of intimacy did not embarrass her, but admitting to not wanting to marry did.
“I’ve read all these stories, these romantic adventures. I wanted to know what it was like to experience something like that. I didn’t want to be married off at seventeen years of age to a man that just wanted to sire an heir. I wanted to experience life.”
Michael leaned back, surprised by her response. She looked like she regretted her admission.
“Why, you are one to call me a rake!” he teased, laughing. He pressed himself forward again. “Dear Lady Lydia wants to live a life of debauchery!”
She shoved his arm playfully. “Your Grace, that’s not what I meant at all!”
He reached out to touch her hip, still chuckling. “My rakish betrothed, I must insist you call me Michael now. I cannot have you calling me ‘Your Grace’ while you tell me how you want to have wanton trysts.”
She gasped again, but he could see she was fighting a smile and just pretending to be offended.
“What kind of an illicit adventure did you imagine?” he asked. “A daytime picnic romp?”
“No such thing,” she protested, looking away. “I would daydream about sneaking kisses in the halls, of midnight meetings under the stars. I couldn’t dare think to ruin my reputation with such scandalous things as you propose.”
“But you wanted to,” he pressed. “You wanted to think of such freedoms that young men are allowed.”
“Why shouldn’t a young woman be allowed too?” she asked, determination on her face. “We are bound by society, the fear of being ruined and tarnished by such escapades.”
“You speak almost treasonously,” he laughed. “It almost pains me to think of you marrying at the end of the Season. Perhaps we should send you off to Greece to join the old philosophers.”
She frowned at him. “Do not tease me so. I do not shun the idea of marriage. I would quite look forward to it with the right person. I just merely hoped to have my share of adventures before settling down.”
“I want to hear more of these adventures. What romantic tales have you read that struck you most?”
“Oh, the stuff you shouldn’t admit to,” she told him. “The highway robber kidnappings, princesses being rescued by the prince, the heroine who saved the day.”
“So, I should steal you away from your bed in the middle of the night,” he teased. “Whisk you away to watch the sunrise from a distant land?”
“If you truly attempted it, I suppose I would scream and fight you,” she said, sighing, looking wistful across the valley again. “That is the shame, everything in real life is so logical. It’s never as romantic as in the stories.”
“Lady Lydia, who knew you could be so oratorical?”
“If I must call you Michael, then you must call me Lydia,” she insisted, turning back to him. She leaned back on her elbow facing him. “Most men would be absolutely horrified by my manner of speaking, such that I wouldn’t dare say these things out loud. What do you think it is, that I feel I may pour my heart out to you?”
“Perhaps because you know I’m safe,” he mused. “Because I don’t intend to marry you.”
The speed in which she looked away nearly broke his heart, making him regret his words. He knew he was tempting her, nearly courting her, and he couldn’t help himself. He wanted her to want him, to be drawn to him, because he enjoyed her presence as much as he was physically attracted to her. If he were not careful, though, when the end of the Season came around, he would be ending their fake engagement with her hating him or broken. He turned back to the view, sighing.
“I feel as though I can pour my heart to you, as well,” he continued. “You do not judge me for my behavior, nor press me to change.”
“I may not condone your behavior, but I knew your reputation prior to my little lie. Though, I do not understand your promise to not marry, nor produce an heir.”
“Why not?”
She shook her head. “It is the goal of every duke, earl, or viscount in history. They want to continue their family name, to pass down their title and lands to a son. Why would you want your title and land to pass to another man’s son?”
Michael shrugged.
“Oh, you do know,” she insisted. “Do not shrug at me as though you do not.”
“What can I say?” he asked. “I told you. I just made the promise to my father that I would not sire an heir. It does not bother me to let the title or the estate pass to Joseph or his children.”
