Forcibly quelling the yearning, Roslyn bit her lower lip. She didn’t want to see this tender, vulnerable side of Drew. It was far easier to resist the seductive rake, the cynical nobleman.

Which made her too vulnerable to him. She could so easily lose her heart to this man. And that could be disastrous.

It would be a tremendous mistake to fall in love with Drew when her love wasn’t returned. He wasn’t willing to let himself love anyone, to let himself trust, and she would be a fool to let herself hope otherwise.

Drew found his thoughts predictably unsettled as they concluded the tour of his estates. He’d taken Eleanor’s advice and risked sharing something of himself with Roslyn, recounting the sordid little tale of how he’d been played for a fool by his first lover, duped by a beautiful widow who’d left his young heart in pieces.

He’d recovered fairly quickly, and the experience no longer caused him pain, but it was still uncomfortable for him to remember.

Fortunately he rarely thought of the widow anymore. He’d determinedly wiped her from his mind long ago. But the lesson she’d taught him had never left him. The wariness was always there, hovering at the back of his consciousness.

His distrust was the reason he’d always shied away from matrimony so resolutely. He didn’t want to be locked in a marriage with a woman who only wanted his wealth and title. He wanted to be loved for himself-

The significance of that realization was a little startling, Drew admitted silently. It was the first time in his life he’d ever acknowledged wanting love.

He wanted a wife who could love him for himself.

Could Roslyn possibly be that woman? Unconsciously his gaze went to her as she rode beside him. She would make him an excellent duchess, he knew. Her graciousness, her easy manner with his tenants today, had shown him how effortlessly she could fill the role of lady of Arden Castle.

Unquestionably she would bring warmth to his house. Unlike his brittle, domineering mother, who held her underlings in contempt, who ruled her domain like an ice queen.

Roslyn could be regal in her demeanor, but she was the stark opposite of an ice queen. Rather, she was the very essence of warmth. This afternoon she wore a small shako hat, with her hair knotted simply at her nape. Her golden hair seemed to absorb the sunlight, Drew realized as he watched her, while her smile seemed to rival it.

Her smile was lovely and warm and made him ache inside with longing. A longing that went much deeper than carnal desire, Drew acknowledged.

Roslyn stirred uncomfortable emotions in him that were far more potent-and significantly more disturbing.

Even so, he relished the feeling.

For years he’d striven for emotional detachment. If he didn’t feel for people, then he couldn’t be betrayed. His two closest friends, Marcus and Heath, had never betrayed him, never disappointed him, and thus had earned his undying trust and loyalty.

But he was in danger of becoming too much like his mother, with the same coldness, the same haughty detachment, the same loneliness.

Until now he’d never thought of himself as lonely, but Roslyn’s question a moment ago had made him realize that he was indeed lonely much of the time-or he had been before meeting her. She had roused him from his self-protective shell. Had brought enchantment to his hitherto dispassionate existence. Since coming to know her, his life had been fuller, richer. More passionate.

Drew felt himself frown. Perhaps he’d been unconsciously searching for passion all this time and hadn’t even known it. A woman who could make him feel something more profound than mere physical pleasure. Who could shake him out of his cold, emotionless existence.

Regardless, he was very glad Roslyn had come into his life. Despite the danger of the emotions she made him feel. Despite even the supreme sexual frustration that her nearness caused him.

Physical discomfort, though painful, was worth enduring if he could share her warmth.

Drew was not eager to subject Roslyn to his mother again, but dinner turned out to be bearable even with its stiff formality, because the duchess kept her scornful remarks to a minimum, and Roslyn kept up a polite conversation that eased the strain.

After dinner, however, was another question entirely. Proper custom dictated that ladies repair to the drawing room while gentlemen enjoyed their port wine. But Drew had no desire to drink by himself, and absolutely no intention of leaving Roslyn alone with the Dragon, so he accompanied them to the large drawing room.

His refusal to conform to convention roused the duchess’s ire even more than he expected; no sooner had they settled in chairs when she launched her first volley. “You disappoint me, Arden. You know I do not tolerate ill-bred behavior in my house.”

Drew had to work to keep his reply bland. “Actually, it is my house, Mother.”

“Perhaps, but if you expect me to pretend to support this unsuitable betrothal of yours, you will accede to my wishes.”

Drew’s jaw hardened, but his mother went on stonily.

“You know very well I don’t approve of this match. You can do much better in choosing a bride. Miss Loring is so far beneath you-”

He cut off her tirade in midstream. “First, Mother, it is not your place to tell me what bride to choose. And second, I cannot do better than Miss Loring.”

“Well, you must, because I will not give my blessing to such an unequal arrangement.”

Tags: Nicole Jordan Courtship Wars Historical
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