Bewitching the Duke

She put her hands on her hips. “Some Sunday sermons are very awe-inspiring.”

“Indeed. Perhaps I am wrong.” He frowned. “But how would I know if I am? I believe there is only one way to discover if my theory is correct.” He bowed deeply in front of her. “Miss White, would you allow me a kiss?”

“No!”

His lips twitched. “Of course not. Why would anyone want to suffer from a dull kiss?”

“That is not my reason at all,” she exclaimed. “You are betrothed. You are here planning your wedding and yet you kissed me. As it is, you still owe me an apology for that kiss last night. It was completely improper.”

As he stared down at her heart-shaped face, the urge for another kiss overwhelmed him. “I shall never apologize for that kiss, Miss White. You needed comforting and I needed . . .”

His voice trailed off as he thought about what he needed. He needed to know that someday he might feel human again. And for some odd reason, the kiss of a wise woman gave him that feeling once more. Why would the one woman he should despise cause him to act so . . . so . . . much like a libertine?

“Exactly what did you need, Your Grace?” she asked in a knowing tone.

“Nothing important,” he mumbled in reply.

“Humph.”

“And I’m not betrothed,” he said softly.

She halted. “You are not to be married?”

He almost laughed at her gape-mouthed expression. “No. And if I was, I would never dishonor my betrothed by kissing another woman.”

“Oh,” she said with a frown. She took a step and then spun around. “Then who is getting married?”

“My sister, Kate.”

“Oh.”

They walked a few more minutes in silence until they came upon the Wellses’ cottage. For once, he seemed to have struck her speechless. He rather liked that. He slid a glance to her and noticed she still seemed to be unable to utter a word. Had she really thought that he was the one getting married? He would have to ask her about that sometime, but not now. His stomach ached as he stopped and stared at their home. He supposed that as duke he should be the first to give his sympathies. But he didn’t want to. He wanted to run from this place.

“I don’t want to go in.”

Colin turned his head and stared at Selina. “Why?”

“This is my fault. I should have warned her when I didn’t feel any movement.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I don’t know,” she cried. “I was so upset with you returning and then evicting me from my home. I know that’s no excuse . . . I guess I thought I’d have a few more days.”

His heart went out to her. They would both have to face their demons when they walked inside that house. “Perhaps doing this together will make it a little easier.”

“How so?”

“Hold my hand.” He held out his left hand for her. After a moment of hesitation, she joined her hand with his. “Together we are stronger than apart. I’ll give you strength . . . and you’ll give me strength,” he whispered the last part.

She squeezed his hand. “Thank you,” she said softly.

Colin blew out a long breath and then knocked on the door. Mr. Wells opened the door and let them in.

“Welcome to my home, Your Grace,” Mr. Wells said in a quiet voice.

If the man noticed Colin holding Selina’s hand, he said nothing. Colin felt a tremble in her. “We came to give you and your wife our deepest sympathies, Mr. Wells. I know how hard it is to recover from the loss of a child.”

“I’m certain you do,” Mr. Wells said. “Unfortunately, my wife isn’t taking this well. The physician came from the village and gave her laudanum.”