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“And what should I think of you, a lady that has willingly let herself be led to a room alone with a man? You have obviously been to the gaol if you have spoken to your father, and you wear a dress I could only assume you would not wear out in public. Your hair is braided as though you were about to go to bed, not call upon a Duke. These things might tell me that you are not a lady that regards her own standing in society with high regard. Do you not fear being ruined, Miss Haverton? Perhaps, because you already have been?”
“How dare you!” she cried, standing to her feet so quickly she pushed back the chair in which she sat. “I would risk ruining my reputation if it meant saving my father from the gallows or being transported. I would do anything to save him!”
“Anything?” Fergus asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Let me take his place instead,” she suggested. “I would do anything to have him out of there.”
He looked her up and down, making her draw back, and put a hand on her chest. She looked healthy and obviously was strong-willed. “Anything at all?”
He watched her blink back tears as she lifted her chin again. “Anything,” she breathed fearfully. “Just, be gentle with me?”
His jaw dropped in horror as he cried, “What exactly did you think I wanted?”
“You are standing there, staring at me like I am nothing more than a piece of horseflesh. What else was I to think?” She wrapped an arm around herself protectively, holding her wrapper together as she turned her body away from him slightly.
“I need a wife,” he explained with a sigh as he dropped his hands.
“A wife?” she asked in disbelief. She turned back to him though she did not release the protective hold she held around herself.
“In case you have not noticed, I am a Duke,” he explained, gesturing to the room around him. “I am unmarried and in need of an heir.”
Her jaw dropped in turn, staring at him. “You would release my father if I agreed to marry you – is that what you are saying?”
“You said that you would give your life for your father, trade places with him in prison,” Fergus continued, stepping closer to her. “I could offer at least a better prison than the one where they are currently holding your father.”
She stepped back once then twice, backing into the bookshelf behind her as he continued to approach her. Backed against the wall, she met his gaze unwaveringly, dropping her hands.
“You even suggested that I could have my way with you,” he pointed out, coming closer and closer to her, until he could just feel, ever so faintly, the little pants she made.
He had not been so close to a woman in years. He yearned to reach out to touch her, feel how soft her skin felt. Placing a palm against the frame of the bookshelf, he bent over her, lowering his head to hers.
“You said that you would do anything for your father.”
She nodded, looking up at him with wide eyes. “You are trying to scare me, but I am not afraid of you. You are a brute, but you are full of hot air.”
“You should be afraid of me,” he told her in a low voice. He did not understand what came over him, wanting to scare her, but she did not back down.
Her hazel eyes had flecks of gold and green, rich warmth that beckoned to him. With her mouth only a couple of inches from his own, he could see the little ridges in the plum flesh and the little spots where she obviously chewed the skin. He wondered what she would look like if she took her lip between her teeth, if he might want to kiss her more than he did at that moment.
He could not deny the desire that he felt. He wanted to kiss her, taste her, fold her into his arms and feel her body warm against his. He wanted to feel how her delicate curves would fit against him and discover if the sensitive flesh of her nipples was the same color as the skin of her lips.
“And why should I?” she asked as if reminding him of what he had said. Her lips parted for her to let out a shaky breath, but she looked up at him, her eyes wide and searching. Long ago, a woman had looked at him in that way, begging to be kissed. The memory flooded back to him, and he took the opportunity to press his mouth against hers. She stiffened in shock, but she did not twist away or protest. Realizing that she likely felt pressured to give in to him for her father’s safety, he pulled away quickly, filled with regret.
Backtracking across the room, he rubbed his mouth with his fingers as though he could erase the feeling of her lips against his. He had completely misread her body language, and he scolded himself for acting so inappropriately. He tried to avoid looking at her, for her reaction, until he heard her clear her throat. She smoothed the front of her wrapper and sat back in the chair in front of his desk. Taking her cue, he returned to his seat behind his desk.
“Forgive me,” he told her softly. He cleared his throat, trying to gather himself again. She nodded simply, looking almost dazed but not offended, so he went on. “I would consider releasing your father if you were to agree to become my wife.”
As he said the words, he realized how preposterous he sounded, especially after how he just acted toward her.
“Especially given if someone had seen my actions just now, it would be the gentlemanly thing to do. To marry you, that is,” he continued.
“Are you quite serious?” she asked, folding her hands in her lap calmly. She met his gaze again without fear or trepidation. “If I agree to marry you, you will release my father?”
“Are you earnest in accepting my offer?” he asked, still shocked by the whole situation.
She raised her chin and said plainly, “Yes.”
He nodded, taking a deep breath. “Then I would have a few conditions of our arrangement – because that is what it would be, an arrangement. A business transaction. I want an heir. If you can give me an heir, then once the child is born, you may go wherever you please, live wherever you like, do whatever you want to do.”
