Page 12 of The Odyssean Duke

“We can speak in the drawing room, Your Grace.”

Evelina walked quietly there, conscious of his footsteps behind her. A jolt of excitement traced along the path of her spine. As a girl, she had never disobeyed her father; she had been too frightened of his fury to muster even the smallest defiance. Still, there had been times when she had imagined occasions such as this, where she slipped between the shafts of shadow and moonlight with a lover.

Evelina smothered a sigh. This was not what she had with the duke. They were not lovers wandering in the dark together.

“Your Grace? You know my name isStephan.”

“Referring to you as such would be highly inappropriate,” Evelina replied, as she lowered herself into the nearby chair.

The duke paused at the threshold and gave her a considering look. Evelina imagined that he was like most men, trying to unravel her seeming contradictions. In Evelina’s mind, there were none. It had been different when they were at the tavern, but now, they were in her drawing room. There were rules to be followed.

More pertinently, if she acted as though she was a little too fond of this duke, he might misunderstand her. Evelina did not wish to do anything which might give His Grace the impression that shelikedhim. She had not yet developed an opinion about him, save for an idle notice that he was interesting, but men had a dreadful tendency to become overbearing when they believed women enjoyed their company.

His Grace dropped onto the sofa near her and tipped his head back, gazing down at Evelina. “I have a new theory about you.”

“Your first theory was quite incorrect,” Evelina noted.

And frustrating, but she did not tell him that.

“I think this one is better,” he said. “You are a lonely widow.”

Evelina laughed. “Do you imagine that I miss my husband?”

His Grace shook his head. “No, clearly not. I think it is your friends who are the cause of your distress. You have watched them all marry and start families of their own, and their families hold precedence over friendship. You feel lonelier and lonelierwith each marriage and child, and this desire to be a mother stems from your need not to be alone.”

Warmth rose to her face. She clasped her hands together in her lap and forced a hollow-sounding laugh. “I think we have had enough of your foolish speculations, Your Grace.”

A tightening sensation twisted in her chest. The duke was not entirely correct; there was much more to her situation than feeling lonely. However, his assumptions were near enough to the truth that Evelina desired nothing more than to forget the subject entirely.

His Grace slowly nodded. “I will not press you.”

His calm acquiescence grated against Evelina. She felt suddenly as though she ought to justify herself, which was ridiculous. Evelina did not know this man and so owed him nothing, much less an explanation. “I simply want to have my own home.”

“You have one,” the duke said, gesturing to the room around them.

“No, I have a house,” Evelina said. “A home is something else. It is something that you make, something that makes you happy. I want my home to be filled with joy and laughter, and I know that itcanbe. I just need to bear a child and become the mother I am meant to be.”

His Grace shook his head. “Homes are…your notion is so romantic.”

Evelina frowned. “I think it is a charming notion, just myself and my child.”

“Unrealistic,” he said.

Evelina stared at him in disbelief, a hand coming instinctively up to her chest. “You are being most unkind, Your Grace.”

“For good reason,” he grumbled.

Evelina narrowed her eyes, studying his face for anything which might reveal why His Grace was suddenly so dour. Her search uncovered no answers, but she sensed that there was something more than he was saying. Something about the mention of ahoneas a pleasant, lovely place left the man strangely disturbed.

“Nevertheless, that is my desire,” Evelina said. “If you are going to insult me for it or tell me that my dream is unachievable, I have no further use for you.”

“Are you using me?”

“I am indulging you,” she clarified. “You said that you have an invitation of sorts for me, and I assumed that it would be a…”

Evelina could not bring herself to say the words. She had hoped that His Grace might have some idea for how she might bear a child. Even though Evelina could not imagine what his idea might be, she still hoped. Perhaps he would propose that they go to her bedroom and try again?

“I do have an invitation,” he said. “A proposal, if you will. I could marry you.”