Page 64 of If the Duke Demands

“Yes,” he grumbled into his coffee cup. Although he had no idea how he’d manage to do it when the only woman occupying his mind was Miranda.

“And this woman from last night—”

“Is not the sort of woman Father had in mind to be Duchess of Trent,” he interrupted firmly to put an end to the conversation before Quinton could question him further. The very last person he wanted to discuss with his brother was Miranda Hodgkins, especially when he had no idea how he felt about her himself. Except that she confused the hell out of him. The thunder rolling overhead and the rain beating at the windows only dampened his spirits more to realize how right she was for him when they were alone, how wrong in every other way.

And if he held a riot of emotions inside him at the memory of last night, then God only knew what confusion Miranda felt. Because while he’d never experienced a woman like her before, she’d never experienced any other man.

Quinn returned his attention to the paper and scanned the land listings as he did every morning, hunting for possible properties he could purchase and turn into an estate of his own. Sebastian knew that his brother had chafed under the limitations of the work he’d done for the dukedom during the past two years, despite being brilliantly successful at managing the estate’s operations, and that he wanted to forge his own path away from the influence of the Carlisle family. Sebastian certainly understood that. He suspected that by the end of the season Quinn would have made up his mind where that path would take him, and that possibility both pleased Sebastian and spiraled hot jealousy through him.

“Just keep in mind that you can have a mistress once you’re married,” Quinn threw out helpfully as he simultaneously popped a strawberry into his mouth and traced a forefinger down the listings as he read them. “Most every peer does. It’s nearly expected of a duke.”

A mistress…He stared at his coffee as a dark, desperate thought surged through him of the only way he could have both his respectable duchess and his passionate lover. The lady he needed as a duke and the woman he wanted as a man. Perhaps Quinn was right for once. Perhaps he could make Miranda his mistress and—

No.

A wave of self-loathing surged through him. She deserved better than being his mistress, and he would never use her like that. Just as he knew that once he married, he would never go outside his marriage, for either pleasure or companionship. He wanted the same kind of marriage his parents had, one of friendship, support, and love.A mistress?Christ, what was he thinking?

He wasn’t, that was the problem. When it came to Miranda, all rational thought ceased. Even now she bothered him to distraction, creating more questions than answers. She’d come to London in pursuit of Robert, but last night, she’d come to him. She knew he couldn’t offer her a future, yet she’d surrendered her innocence anyway, asking for nothing in return. She’d admitted to having an affection for him, yet she’d vanished in the night without a word.

His male pride wanted explanations.

But his heart simply wanted to see her again.

He set the coffee aside and asked as casually as possible as a plan began to form in his mind, “What do the ladies have scheduled for this evening, do you know?”

“They’re attending a museum lecture with Emily Grey.” Quinn turned the page. “And Robert and I are planning on heading to St James’s Street.”

Sebastian bit back the urge to ask if that was wise, given how many nights his brothers had spent in the clubs recently. But he didn’t have time to worry over them. Not when he had to deal with the oncoming storm that was Miranda.

“Robert and I will most likely be at Boodle’s all night,” Quinn said pointedly, then glanced up from the paper and sent Sebastian a crooked grin. A not-so-subtle signal that he’d have the house to himself if he wanted to invite back the woman from last night. “Allnight.”

He grimaced into his coffee. He should have been glad that his brothers were willing to help cover his tracks, just as they’d done for one another all their lives, no matter what kind of trouble they’d gotten themselves into. But this time, it grated, reminding him of the very last time he’d secreted a woman away in order to be with her. He’d sworn to himself that he would never do that again, that he would never darken his father’s memory by placing a woman before his family. But that was exactly what he’d done last night with Miranda; he’d been unable to deny himself a night of happiness with her, and this morning, he despised himself for it.

She deserved better from him. For Christ’s sake,hedeserved better from himself.

Yet it didn’t stop him from wanting to be with her again.

“We’ll probably be out until dawn,” Quinn added, pretending he was still interested in the newspaper listings.

“Then I’ll most likely join you,” Sebastian answered dryly, wanting to put an end to any of his brother’s suspicions.

“Of course you won’t,” Quinn replied with a knowing wink and raised the newspaper between them.

***

Miranda took a deep breath and tried to focus on the museum’s evening speaker. She’d been looking forward all week to hearing Georgiana Bradford talk about her most recent African adventures and to meeting the famous adventuress in person, but now, she couldn’t remember a word of what was being said. Something about crocodiles and rapids, pyramids and…Oh, concentrating was impossible!

Her eyes pressed closed in misery. She’d lost her innocence. To Sebastian Carlisle, of all men. It was all she could do to bite back the groan at her lips and not interrupt the lecture as she once more thought about last night.

She didn’t regret being with him. How could she? The night was simply magical. He was tender and caring with her, even laughing with her to put her at ease, and in those precious few hours together, he’d been more relaxed than she’d seen him in years. If ever. Yet it wasn’t only being intimate itself that was wonderful but also afterward when he held her in his arms, the deep rumble of his voice when he told her she was beautiful, and how happy she was to simply lie next to him. Being with him proved more special and thrilling than she could ever have imagined being with a man would be. Precisely because that man was Sebastian.

But it was Sebastian she cared about, not the Duke of Trent. It was as if she’d left Vauxhall in the carriage with one man, then left the arms of another three hours later. Two men, indeed—the Duke of Trent, who wanted a society lady with good breeding and sophisticated manners for his wife, and Sebastian, who wantedher, a woman who was the exact opposite of all that. The Duke of Trent, who frustrated her with his obsession with propriety and station, and Sebastian, who she loved. No matter that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with Sebastian, the Duke of Trent made that impossible.

Oh, she was a fool! Even though she knew she had no future with him, she couldn’t help replaying in her mind all the wonderful moments they’d spent together, all the soft touches and affectionate kisses, all the happiness and laughter. She desperately wanted to be with him again, and not only for the scintillating pleasures of the night. She wanted the chance at a life with him, to create a home together in which there was love, comfort, laughter, children…oh, lots and lots of children!

She wanted nothing less than his love. But he would never let himself give it.

Dear God—whatwasshe thinking? And this time she did hang her head in her hands and groan.