Page 45 of How to Capture a Duke

“You are c…c-oming home with me.”

She cocked her head to the side and studied him. “Why?”

“What do you mean, ‘Why?’ Because that’s where you belong. And because I demand it, dammit.”

“Not good enough. There is nothing there for me.”

He scrubbed a hand down his face. “Has my cousin said anything untoward? Has he p…p-ropositioned you?”

“Propositioned me? You cannot mean…” She reached out a hand against the wall to steady herself. “Do you?”

He prized himself for his self-control in the past. He’d always been adept at keeping himself distant from others, but Olivia had a maddening way to make him feel. To draw him out of his comfortable routine. It was the reason he was here tonight, to fetch her away from his good-looking and damnably charming cousin.

Now she was looking at him, and he had no idea how to answer. All he knew for certain was that his wife had indulged in one too many drinks and he wanted her away from his cousin, the Raven Club, and all the temptations it offered.

“You’re wrong. Lord Jeffries did not behave badly. But your cousin did reveal something quite extraordinary about you.”

“What might that be?”

She moved away from the wall to press a finger against his chest. “You do not want children because you fear they will be like you. That they will speak like you.”

He stiffened beneath her finger. He stared wordlessly at her, his heart pounding like a drum. His throat tightened, and his fists clenched at his sides. He couldn’t believe Spencer had revealed that truth to his wife. Betrayal, sharp and bitter, cut through him, and he wondered what the hell his cousin had been thinking.

Spencer knew only because he’d told his cousin a decade ago after arriving home from Oxford on holiday. Tristan had had a particularly difficult session after a professor had required his students to speak on a topic. He’d known he stuttered worse under stress, but the half hour speech had been intolerable. He’d been convinced that he’d never want his offspring to go through a similar, miserable experience.

Unwanted, old emotions arose within him. Incompetence. Frustration. Embarrassment. His mother’s voice could never be silenced. He wasn’t good enough, intelligent enough, worthy enough to be her son and his father’s heir.

It was Tristan’s shame, his cross to bear.

He’d never been celibate, but the women in his past knew how to prevent an unwanted pregnancy. But Olivia was his wife. He couldn’t take the risk.

“I do not wish to s…s-peak of it.”

“Of course not. But your beliefs are unfounded. There is no reason to think that your children will—”

“I said I do not wish to speak of it.” This time, the words were delivered clearly and harshly.

Pain flashed in her eyes. He knew how badly words could hurt, and he wanted to take them back, to pull her into his arms and kiss her, to soothe the sting of his harsh delivery.

She knows, dammit.

No one could guarantee a child would not be like him. She’d never understand, could never live a day in his shoes. He knew firsthand that no one could shelter a child for its entire life.

“You believe the worst of everyone, especially me. That I trapped you into marriage. And you came here tonight believing I’ve seduced Lord Jeffries into having a liaison.”

At the mention of Spencer, his jaw hardened. He didn’t believe she’d seduced him, more like his cousin had seduced her.

He reached for her hand. “Enough talk. It’s time to go.”

She evaded his grasp. “Why? Since I am such a nuisance as your wife, leave me here.”

“Olivia.” His voice was full of warning.

“You needn’t worry. I shall find my own way home. I’m sure Lord Jeffries will be more than happy to escort me.”

His mind exploded with all his pent-up fears and frustrations. He didn’t think. Tossing her over his shoulder, he headed for the back doors of the club.

…