Read Online I Married the Duke by Katharine Ashe - Free Book Online Page B

“Always, duchess. A man like me needs all the help he can muster.”
    The summer blooms trained upon him were wary and rimmed with red. He stood, went into his day cabin and returned with a cup.
    “You wish me to be drunk today too? Perhaps so that you can fondle my hair a bit more?”
    He did not withhold his smile. A servant she might be, but she certainly didn’t seem to know it. “Water with a splash of brandy. Doctor’s orders.”
    She frowned, but drew her arms free of the blanket and pushed herself up to sit. She accepted the cup. The gold and ruby ring winked against her skin where the blanket gaped. Her arm was like cream, untouched by sun and supple from shoulder to wrist.
    “My physician says you have avoided taking fever.” He spoke to prevent himself from staring. The short, unadorned sleeve of her chemise showed at her shoulder. The gown she’d worn aboard was simple too. Her beauty and character demanded silk and lace. But on her, even the plainest linen seduced. “Congratulations, duchess, on possessing a hardy constitution.”
    “Not hardy enough to retain my clothing, it seems. Where is it?”
    “Oh, somewhere about.” He waved vaguely.
    “Do not let my calm suggest to you, Captain, that I am comfortable sitting before you in this state,” she said with perfect composure. “I assure you, I am not.”
    He withheld a grin. How this woman had been born into the servile class he could not fathom. “You mustn’t allow it to bother you,” he said. “Sailors routinely lose their garments to the elements. Or thieves. Brigands. Pirates. You know how it goes.”
    She returned the empty cup to him. Her hair spilled down her back like a waterfall. “You have had your clothing taken too, I am to guess?”
    “Only the eye.”
    “You should not have done it.”
    “I didn’t. The other fellow did.”
    “You should not have gotten me drunk. A dram would have sufficed.”
    He leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms loosely. “Is it magical? Do you keep it bound up to preserve its mystical properties?”
    “Foolishness again.” She turned her face away. “Don’t you mind being foolish?”
    “Good God. The ladies used to call it charming. But I suppose Napoleon soured everyone on charm. Charm is so French, after all.”
    “You said you would not take advantage of me,” she said quietly but firmly.
    “Our terminologies are clearly not in accord. For I am most certain I would remember having taken advantage of you last night if I had.”
    She did not respond but remained with her head bent and face averted.
    “Samson,” he murmured.
    “Samson what?” she replied.
    “Wasn’t he the one with the hair that gave him strength? Or was that David? Forgive me, I forget my catechism at moments like this.”
    “Moments like what?”
    “Moments in which a beautiful woman reclines upon my bed and I find myself not reclining with her.”
    She finally faced him again. Luc’s breath slid away. A single drop of moisture rested on her pale cheek, its trail like silver.
    She lifted a hand and passed her fingertips beneath her eyes, but not to rub away the tear. It was as though she did not know it was there.
    “Are there dark smudges?” she asked.
    “Barely,” he managed to utter. “Beautiful, recall? I speak only truths, you know.”
    “I told you, I don’t know anything about you.”
    Which was nearly true, after all.
    She took up the linen neck cloth and, as he sat entirely bemused and wholly aroused, she twisted the mass of spun copper into a knot and secured it beneath the covering.
    “Have you regained your strength now, Lady Samson?”
    “Have you tamed your piratical manners, Captain Andrew?”
    “Is it vanity?”
    “Your arrogance?” Her brow went up, a spark lighting her eyes again that he felt in his chest. “Most certainly, I imagine.”
    He smiled. “If you don’t like it to be seen, why don’t you have it cut?”
    “So that I can torment men like you with it, which