The Duke's Shotgun Wedding (Scandalous House of Calydon 1)

She wrung her hands, frantic to find a way to break the silence. A thought stormed through her.

What if she revealed her feelings to him?

Would he then be more open? What if he was so withdrawn only because he thought she believed the rumors?

She swallowed and made up her mind. She was not afraid to confess her love. And what could it hurt? She hurried to his study, knocked, and entered before he bid her go away.

He glanced up at her intrusion, and his raw beauty warmed her as always. Garbed in gray trousers with a snow white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbow, he appeared relaxed and at home. Unfortunately, he seemed so cold and frighteningly unapproachable that he scared her.

“How my I assist you, Jocelyn?”

His polite inquiry was so bland she almost changed her mind. The vulnerability felt terrible. But she took a breath and stated the truth.

“I am in love with you.”

She met his gaze, and leaned against the closed door. Her hands were clasped so tightly around the handle that she knew she’d have welts on her palm.

When he did not respond, only stared at her with his icy blues, she repeated, “I am in love with you, Sebastian. I love you. Your warmth, your generosity with your tenants, your intensity…your passion. Your—”

“Enough, madam!” he bit out.

She could feel his fury pouring over her in waves. What had she said to make his eyes fill with such anger?

“I neither want nor require your love, Jocelyn. Do not speak such things.” His admonishment whipped over her, stinging and flaying.

“You are angry because I love you?” She did not think it possible for his expression to become more closed off, but it did.

“Did you not hear when I just ordered you not to speak to me of such things?” His voice had grown so forbidding she hesitated, her natural boldness squelched under the utter disdain that flowed from him.

“I love you, Sebastian. You not wanting to hear it won’t stop it from being true. I am not asking you to return the sentiment. I will not say it again if that is your desire, but know that every time I look at you, touch you, kiss you, and when you are deep inside me and I am calling out your name, I am saying I love you. That is, if you ever return to our bed.”

She did not wait for a response, or even watch his reaction. She whirled and jerked the door open, and stalked from the room.

She feared he would never come back to her, no matter how hard she tried.

…

Sebastian was rooted to his chair. Her words washed over him and punched into a deep, cold recess in his heart. He felt a crack, and hardened himself at the rush of feelings. It could not have been easy for her to declare herself in the face of his indifference.

“I do not believe Jocelyn was aware that I was in the room.”

At Anthony’s amazed remark, Sebastian swiveled in his chair to face his brother. He had arrived early for the Christmas gathering, and Sebastian had yet to inform her.

“I don’t think I have ever seen you looking quite so at a loss, Sebastian.” Anthony grinned at the scowl that Sebastian sent him.

“Shut up, damn it,” he snapped, and prowled over to the decanter to pour two whiskeys. “How is Phillipa?” he asked as he handed one to his brother.

“Very happy and contented. She will journey down with her sisters and parents in a couple of days.” Anthony took a healthy swallow of his drink. “I thought someone was playing a prank when I read in The Times that you had wed Lady Jocelyn Rathbourne. Then I realized it must be true, because who would dare?”

Sebastian grunted, and stalked to the windows. He opened them a crack, letting in the chill.

“Bloody hell, Sebastian, you and the damn cold!” Anthony rose and joined him, gazing out at the landscape that was blanketed white with snow. “How on earth did it come about that you married Lady Jocelyn?”

Sebastian ground his teeth. “She barged in here with a derringer, claiming you had taken advantage of her and demanding satisfaction.”

“The hell you say!”

Sebastian broke down and chuckled as amusement trickled through him. “She was quite amazing. And I thought that instead of choosing one of the vapid, shallow misses who pepper the ton, a bold and adventurous woman would be preferable. Although I’ve come to realize that my days would be far more peaceful with a more biddable wife.”

He glanced at his brother, and they both roared with laughter. It was the first time he’d cracked a smile in days.

“I don’t think I have ever seen you this surprised, Anthony.”

“Lord. I knew the woman was fearless, but I never thought she would appear on your doorstep with a gun, Sebastian! Good God, man!” Anthony thrust his hands through the blond hair that fell in wild disarray, so different from the severe cut he normally wore.

“I was a bit taken aback myself,” he admitted with a reluctant grin.

Green eyes so different from his own assessed him. “And then you wed her without knowing if I had been with her as she’d claimed?”

Sebastian heard the undisguised shock in his brother’s question. “Whatever you are Anthony, is not the libertine she claimed. I knew something must have happened or she would not have had Mother’s locket in her possession. But I did not believe you capable of betraying Phillipa so completely—not when you had been making such an ass of yourself.” Sebastian sipped his whiskey.

Anthony winced. “Bloody hell.”

Sebastian said nothing, just downed the rest of his whiskey.

His brother jetted out a breath. “I went to Lincolnshire to gain some perspective, and Jocelyn came out of nowhere. I thought I desired her, and kissed her a few times, but nothing beyond that, Sebastian. Her beauty was so different from Phillipa’s, and her character, as well. I became enchanted. And of course there was her pedigree— I believed I was making the right decision.”

“Why did you change your mind?” Sebastian asked, and waited patiently while Anthony poured another whiskey.

“She scared me.”

Sebastian gave a bark of laughter.

“It’s no laughing matter, Sebastian.” Anthony grimaced in chagrin. “She rode her horse astride, her skills with her bow surpassed any I had ever seen. She hunted, Sebastian. And I don’t mean for fox. After a few weeks, I realized how different she was from the women of the ton. She made no effort to be demure, and her energy left me dizzy. It had enticed me to think she would make a bloody awesome bed partner—” He broke off at the glare Sebastian sent him, and shrugged. “I’m just telling you my thoughts at the time. But it was mostly the lure of Phillipa that drew me away.”

“Just take care,” Sebastian said evenly. “Did you propose?”

“No,” Anthony said softly. “But I meant for my actions to be interpreted as such. Phillipa had rejected my offer of marriage and I was reeling. Jocelyn and I became friends and I knew she needed to make her estate solvent. I left the locket with her and returned to London to ensure Phillipa was not with child before I made any concrete decisions in relation to her. You know all that happened after.”

“I see,” Sebastian said.

Anthony jerked his chin at the study door. “What was that all about? Her comment about you being absent from her bed?”

Sebastian related the gist of their fight in a cold, clipped voice.

Anthony lifted a bemused brow. “She has heard the rumors about Marissa? Have you explained?”

“What is there to explain?” Sebastian ground out. “I have no desire to dredge up my past mistakes.”

“Jocelyn is your duchess, Sebastian. Do you think the old rumors won’t surface upon her first foray to London? Don’t be blind, man. Many will flock to her side wanting to be associated with you, and there will always be those who thrive on gossip and innuendo, if not outright lies. And really, it is hardly fair to expect her to obey you about Mother without questioning your reasons.”

Sebastian stared at him intently. “Ar

e you saying Phillipa would gainsay your wishes?”

Anthony gazed out at the falling snow. “No, but, I assure you, their temperaments are very different. Besides, I tell my wife the reasons behind my decisions.”

Sebastian threw back the rest of his whiskey. “I do not speak of our mother.”

“Will you ever forgive her? She longs for you, Sebastian, she—”

“Enough!” Sebastian gritted his teeth and slowly unclenched his hands from his glass, fearing it will crack. “I said I will not discuss our mother. Not even with you, Anthony. I do not give a damn what she longs for,” he snarled, and prowled the study with restless energy. “And when my duchess enters society, I have no fear that she will handle herself brilliantly.”