His Duchess (His and Hers 1)

She pondered whether or not to tell him what Spade had wanted to do to her once they arrived in Scotland.

“Did they say why they had kidnapped you?”

“No, but then they were much too busy arguing over where we were going and what they were going to do with me.” She continued on quickly, hoping he would gloss over her last statement. “I assumed they snatched me in order to demand a ransom.”

His gaze cut a swift path to hers. “What were they going to do with you?”

She silently repeated a curse she had heard from his very lips then tried to be vague. “As I said, they disagreed over that as well.”

Grey turned to steel at her prevarication. His silence and rigid countenance spoke for him.

It wasn’t that she thought Taviston cared overmuch what happened to her, but she knew he would be apoplectic at the thought of anyone harming something that belonged to him, namely his wife.

Victoria blew out another breath and found an interesting blotch of golden yellow in the carpet to concentrate on. “Frank thought they were to abandon me in Wales, leave me to make my own way home.” She paused for so long she feared Taviston might come over to shake the words out of her mouth. “Spade thought they were to kill me,” she said on one quick breath.

He did amble over then, but his casual stroll belied the tension in his shoulders and face. He sat down in the chair across from her and his measured words surprised her. “One of them wanted to take you to Wales and leave you, the other wanted to kill you, and you think they kidnapped you for ransom?”

She snapped her mouth shut when she realized it hung open. “Well, when you state it clearly like that, it doesn’t make sense, does it? My wits were a bit unraveled by the whole affair.”

“Victoria, for God’s sake, I was not insulting your intelligence.” Taviston drew his chair and himself nearer to her and encased her hands in his large, warm ones. “Of course you have had a time of it. It’s probably best you didn’t focus on their intentions. You were obviously clear-headed enough to escape.”

He was so close their knees touched. Victoria marveled that such a thing could a send a shiver of desire through her veins. It didn’t hurt that his white lawn shirt stood open and she glimpsed crinkly black hair.

“Victoria? I thought the mention of escaping might inspire you to tell me how you got away.”

She blushed. “Oh, of course. I did hint at the apparent ineptness of my captors, did I not?”

He nodded, so she regaled him with the tale of her self-rescue. By the time she arrived at the point where Spade threatened her while she stood on the road, horror and amusement did battle on his face. Laughter soon won and he released her hands and slumped back in his chair while it overtook him.

It delighted Victoria to see him laugh and smile. Such rare actions from him were to be treasured. Then again, he seemed to grin and chuckle much, much more these days.

Unfortunately, he sobered with all due speed. “Do you realize the risk you took? They could have been given a description of you, or they might have already noted where you lived earlier in the week.”

“I know. Believe it or not, I did think about those things, and the weapons they waved were never far from my mind, either. But I had to get to the church. I couldn’t have lived with myself if you thought I had left you at the altar.”

Why did she have to say that? She shifted in her chair and her gaze dropped. To his lap. Her eyes skittered away to the fire. Anticipation of the night ahead quickened her heartbeat.

He didn’t speak for the longest time and she had no idea what he thought. His eyes remained on her face but showed no hint of emotion, either positive or negative. At last, he pushed his chair back and began to pace.

“The first question that comes to mind is why my coachman did not inform me he never picked you up. Did the kidnappers use my coach, after incapacitating my coachman? Why wouldn’t someone in the stables have noted his absence?” He spoke calmly, but Victoria knew lack of control over what happened and lack of knowledge about the event must annoy him no end.

“I can assure you, the vehicle I rode in was not yours. The outside was painted a dark blue to resemble the Taviston coaches, but the inside...” She shuddered at the rank memory. “Suffice it to say, it was not yours. I can only assume your coachman showed up later and was told by Morgan I had already gone. Everyone concerned probably presumed a misunderstanding and thought nothing more of it.”

Taviston nodded smartly and strummed his fingers on his thigh. “If you’ll excuse me for a moment, I must attend to a few matters.” He moved toward the door. “Remain here.”

But it’s our wedding night. Victoria watched him disappear with a sinking heart. He’d promised to finish what they started that night in the portrait gallery. Now he didn’t appear at all eager to introduce her to the marriage act. Drat. Staring into the fireplace, she sulked for the twenty minutes it took for Taviston to return.

He gave no explanation for his absence, merely saying, “I have many other questions about this morning as well.”

His interrogation could take a while. Disappointed anew, Victoria rose and went to warm herself by the fire. “I will try to answer as best I can.”

He changed the course of his pacing and came to stand behind her. “But I think my curiosity concerning your kidnapping might keep until tomorrow.” His warm hands began to slowly undo the back of her dress.

“Oh,” she replied mindlessly, flanked by the heat of the fireplace and the heat of his body.

His voice rumbled and his hands softly stroked the skin he had exposed. “My curiosity concerning your body won’t.”

Those bold words should have unnerved her. Instead, a thrill of want shot through her stomach straight to a regi