“No point in delaying what?” he asked, his voice as calm as ever, as he started toward her. Ever so slowly, his feet moved, carrying him closer to her while his gaze held her immobile. Madeline felt like a fly caught in a spider’s web, waiting to be devoured.
As he approached, she could feel her eyes begin to water as it took all her determination to keep her gaze fixed on his, to not back down. Clearing her throat, she blinked rapidly, hoping to encourage the tears to retreat, praying that he had not already seen them. “There’s no point in prolonging this,” she answered, annoyed with the slight hitch in her voice. “We should…we should simply…retire.”
At her words, his gaze widened and for a moment travelled to the large bed only a few steps away.
The second his eyes fell from hers, Madeline exhaled in relief. The absence of his scrutinising gaze felt as though the downpour she had been subjected to had finally ceased, leaving her shivering and soaked but free from the almost painful drumming of the tiny droplets on her skin.
However, before she could gather her strength once more, he turned back to her. “Is that what you wish?” he asked, doubt in his voice as he stepped closer, his gaze once more holding hers, daring her to speak the truth.
“What I wish?” Shaking her head, she swallowed. “Hardly.” His shoulders tensed. “However, as much as I regret that fact, I am your wife and as such it is my duty to?”
“Your duty?” he growled, and for the first time, she saw something else besides calm authority reflected in his eyes. If they had been deep and unyielding before, now they burnt with anger as his long legs suddenly moved faster, carrying him to her in the blink of an eye.
Taken aback at the intensity of his reaction, Madeline shrank back, colliding hard with the wall at her back. Briefly, her eyes closed, and she groaned at the dull pain that rang through the back of her head.
“Duty?” he all but snarled, and her eyes snapped open, staring at him in open shock as her body screamed at her to run from the danger that loomed before her.
***
Cursing himself, Derek took a step back, his hands still balled into fists as he tried his utmost to subdue the anger that had seized him so unexpectedly. What was wrong with him? He ought to have more control than to lash out at her like this, frightening her out of her mind. Her wide eyes and rapid breathing as she pressed herself against the wall, no doubt wishing to put as much distance between them as possible, spoke to the fear he had just now so unwisely evoked within her.
Duty.
It had been that word, the way she had used it, suggesting that he did not care whether she came to his bed willingly, that had sent him over the edge.
After all, he was not the man she deemed him to be, and he could not deny that it drove him mad that she would think of him like that. From the first moment he had laid eyes on her, Derek had wanted her to see him as worthy. He had wanted her to see him for who he truly was beyond the mere measurements of his life.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, running a hand through his hair. “I did not mean to frighten you.”
“You did not,” she insisted as she raised her chin in defiance. “I was merely startled.”
At the sight of her courage and unyielding will, Derek could not help but admire her. The truth was only too obvious in the slight tremble that shook her body as well as the way her chest rose and fell rapidly under her breathing. And yet, she would not cower, would not bend her head. Instead, she held his gaze, her eyes searching his, waiting, wondering.
Derek inhaled deeply, trying to choose his words with care. “The duty you speak of,” he began, noting the way she drew in a slow breath, “is none I would ask of you.”
Her gaze narrowed, a touch of confusion marking her features. “You would not?”
Slowly, he shook his head.
“I see,” she mumbled, and her gaze became distant, sliding from his for the first time that night.
Confused, Derek watched her, wondering about the touch of red that came to her cheeks as her eyes drifted to the floor. “Are you all right?”
For a long moment, she remained quiet. Then she lifted her head, and he could see that her eyes were hard with defiance once more. And yet, Derek thought to see a touch of mortification in the way she looked at him as though he had just insulted her. He could not for the life of him understand her reaction.
“So, all you want,” she began, her shoulders tense as she spoke, “is my dowry? That’s why you followed me.” As the accusation left her lips, she straightened her spine and drew back her shoulders, the look in her eyes one of challenge.
Fighting down the urge to respond with equal measure, Derek inhaled a steadying breath. “Is that what you believe?”
Snorting in derision, she shook her head. “It is what I know,” she hissed, her eyes alight with anger once more. “For years now, I’ve had to be on my guard as so-called gentlemen refused to accept my decline of their marriage proposal and instead thought it the right course of action to force me into marriage. More than once, I’ve seen that very intention in a man’s eyes, knowing exactly what he intended as he offered to escort me outside for some fresh air. Always was I able to evade their intentions, to thwart their plans.” Pressing her lips into a hard line, she regarded him with displeasure. “Maybe it made me overly confident. Maybe that’s why I didn’t see you coming.”
Linking his arms behind his back, Derek could barely contain the outrage that her words had evoked. “You did not see me coming,” he forced out through gritted teeth, “because I never had any intention of trapping you into marrying me. I merely?”
Laughing, she shook her head. “Why would I believe that? After all, men are deceitful, only ever doing what is in their own best interest. Unfortunately, women do not have that luxury.”
“Do they not?” Derek snapped. “If that were true, I wonder why it is well known all over London that you had no intention of marrying a man who ranks lower than an earl. Are you not also choosing based upon secondary characteristics? Do you not also fail to see beyond a man’s rank and fortune?”
For a long moment, she simply stared at him as though the double standard of her opinion had never occurred to her before. “I do so because it is the only choice I can make.” She snorted. “Or at least until you decided to take it from me.”
“I did no such thing,” Derek insisted. Despite the urge to pace, to move, he found it impossible not to look at her. She was breathtaking in her anger, her righteous indignation of how society treated her. Her dark green eyes sparkled as though lit from within, and the candlelight bathed her ebony hair and porcelain skin in a warm glow. She was a woman who knew what she wanted and would not hesitate to fight for it.
Derek had known such women before. Tristan’s wife Beth as well as his sister Henrietta were birds of the same feather. However, the fire that burnt in Madeline’s gaze was unlike any he had ever encountered before. In a strange way, it matched his own, drawing him near, and despite knowing he would get burnt, he still found himself unable to resist.
“Why can you not admit that you only compromised me,” she began, annoyance clear in her voice, “in order to get your hands on??”
“On you?” Derek interrupted, flinching at his own bold words. However, the thought that she might believe he had only compromised her to claim her dowry stung just as much as her thinking that he had done so in the first place.
At his words, her eyes widened, and he could see her drawing in a stuttering breath. “On…on my dowry?”
Gritting his teeth, Derek stalked toward her, seeing the effect of his approach clearly written on her face. Although he did not wish to frighten her, he could not leave this room without assuring her that he had not once thought about her dowry as he had hastened after her that night. Indeed, it had been the farthest thing from his mind.