Duke of Dishonor (Lords of Scandal 11)

“Just south of Harwich,” he answered as she opened the door a crack.

She must look a fright. She’d barely even braided her hair before collapsing into the bed. She could feel several lose strands about her face.

His gaze skimmed down her length, lingering on her legs. “Would you like someone to help you dress?”

Heat flamed in her cheeks. “No, thank you. Aunt Mildred can help me if it comes to that.”

He shook his head. “This ship is part of our fleet. You’re safe here and you needn’t call her your aunt while on board.”

Emily smiled at that. “I do believe her name is Caroline. She mentioned it once. But I have very little memory of the real Aunt Mildred, so it doesn’t matter.”

“It will.” He answered, looking away from her as he cleared his throat. “And I can help you dress, love. I’m about to be your husband.”

“Oh,” she said, opening the door a bit wider. “Husbands don’t really attend to their wives’ garments, do they?”

“Certainly,” he answered with a smile. “You’d be surprised at the intimacy of matrimony.”

“I suppose I will,” she answered, frowning. “My father was gone a great deal, which meant I didn’t witness my parents’ relationship all that much.”

“He insisted on conducting expansions himself.” Brandon said as he turned away from her. “But I do believe that Eliza and Menace are going to conduct the next business trip together.” He smiled over his shoulder. “I shall give you privacy while you put on your shift.”

She turned too, wishing there was a screen at least. But she quickly pulled his shirt over her head and pulled on her shift. Then she sat to put on her stockings and pantaloons.

Brandon turned back, extending out his hands. He held a dress of fine blue wool. “How did you manage that?” she said with a smile.

He chuckled. “With a bit of difficulty.” He set another parcel on the table. “To attend to your other needs.”

Then he carefully unfolded the gown and began helping her into the garment.

His hands skimmed her body, as he completed the terribly personal act of helping her dress. She’d known that he’d done the same last night, but she’d been so tired, she’d hardly been aware. Now, her body hummed with the intimacy.

When he was done, she had the distinct feeling of being too hot, and she shifted away. “When…” she looked away. “When do we wed?”

“If you’ll have me, in the next hour.”

She turned back to him then, cold replacing the heat. “An hour? This is to be my wedding dress then?”

He reached for her hand. “No. Well yes. This is our ceremony of necessity. You can consider the next one the marriage of romance.”

She gave a stiff nod. “Are we to go into town?”

He shook his head. “I don’t have the license for that. The captain will perform the ceremony once we’re out to sea. The next ceremony will be the one recognized by church and state.”

“Then why have this one at all?” she asked. Nervous butterflies danced in her stomach. Was it just nerves? It wasn’t every day a woman woke to find she was marrying a duke. But even after all their talking, she still didn’t feel like she understood Brandon.

He’d said that he cared. But there was a distance in his gaze. One she couldn’t name, and she didn’t understand.

Perhaps, despite his assertion that he cared, he wanted control of the business? Had he lied?

She sighed. Questions like this were only muddying the waters.

“You’re very quiet.” He reached out and pulled her close.

“I’m questioning myself,” she replied honestly. “My head doesn’t know which way to go.”

“Then perhaps you should listen to your heart. What does it want?”

That made her soften…everywhere. She knew what she wanted. Always had.