Read Online Lord Ruin by Carolyn Jewel - Free Book Online Page A

expected; settle on you a sum sufficient to keep you in the deep countryside never to be heard from again.”
    “Would that be so bad?”
    He met her forthright gaze. “I have responsibilities I wish not to relinquish. There are inequities in England I would see eased, if not erased.”
    “You mean that, don’t you?”
    Her surprise pricked his pride. His voice took on a certain coldness. “So much so that there are but a limited set of circumstances under which I would consider so extreme a course as divorce.”
    “Such as?”
    That sounded like a challenge, and he frowned. “The obvious ones. If I had reason to believe any child of yours was not mine, for example.”
    “Whose could it be, if not yours?”
    Ruan felt her innocence like a blow. It kept him from telling her how many married women had come willingly to his bed, how many a woman he knew of who gave her husband another man’s brat. Only one thing would be worse than that, and that was no brats at all. “Or if you denied me conjugal rights such that I would not have any heir from you.”
    He met her gaze head on and was shocked by how intensely aware her eyes were. Aware of him. Aware of his meaning. Aware of the consequences. A woman of parts, he thought, even though he’d never before applied the compliment to anyone of her gender.
    “Under those circumstances, yes, I would divorce you. But none other.” A rather long silence ensued. He gave up fighting the ridiculous feeling that they had years of history behind them and years more to come. “I’m sorry if you thought otherwise.”
    “You’ll not set me aside. Child or no child?”
    “No.” He felt—What? Relief. Certainly that. But while the distant future concerned her, he thought only of the present. At this moment, he had clear memories of making love to her. Memories she appeared not to share, at least not with any fondness. “Can you bring yourself to the marriage bed without disgust?” The thought of her lying inert while he did what he must appalled him.
    “If I had a baby, I might not feel so alone. There would be at least some purpose to this mockery of a marriage.”
    Once again, her thoughts were on the future when what mattered was right now. “You will meet the purpose quite nicely, I should say.” She did not look like a woman capable of sending a man insane with wanting. She was not beautiful or seductive, at least not as he’d formerly understood the words. But he knew what he’d felt. He wanted to feel it again. To have an orgasm that shattered him to oblivion and back.
    “You make me sound like a prize broodmare.”
    He acknowledged that with a nod. “I’m certain you will be a good dam to my foals.” That made her smile, and he grinned back. “Do you know, until now, I’d only thought of a wife and children in the abstract. As if I’d one day have some sent over from Regent Street. Boxed up nice and pretty to be taken out on holidays and the odd special occasion.” He cocked his head. There wasn’t a woman alive he couldn’t charm if he put his mind to it. “Now that I have you, tomorrow wouldn’t be too soon for children. I’d like several.” Christ! Where the devil had that come from?
    “So would I,” she whispered.
    “All the dukes of Cynssyr have been born in Cornwall.” He took her hands in his, touching the wedding band on her left hand. “At Fargate Castle. It is where my heir will be born.” He stood near enough to see the neat stitches in the collar of her gown and an area where satin thread was meant to mimic fabric worn away from long use.
    “I’m sure I shall like Cornwall,” she said in a determined voice. He rather thought she’d have said the same of Hell. A regular solider, she was. “Is that where you’re sending me now?”
    “Satterfield is much nearer London than Cornwall.” He gave a faint grin. “Did you think I meant to banish you to Cornwall?”
    She shrugged in reply. Amenable on the outside she was, but inside,