“You had good reasons for courting her, I’m sure.”

“Your refusal was not a good enough reason,” Hugo said. “Lady Woolhastings doesn’t deserve a man who is more than half in love with someone else.”

“Perhaps you deserve more as well,” Ophelia suggested. She took a step toward him. Now they were close enough so that the hem of her skirt brushed his shoe, and he caught a whiff of sweet lemon from her hair.

“I love that you don’t wear a wig,” he said. “Damn it, you make me feel as unbalanced as a lad of fifteen.”

Watching her eyes carefully, he took the last step toward her and his arms closed around her. “If you marry me, you’ll lose a part of your freedom,” he said, his voice roughening. “The life of a duchess is not easy, although I will do everything in my power to provide you as much privacy as I am able. I own a large castle and the grounds are protected from the public. We can do as we wish there.”

Ophelia met his eyes and then cupped his face in her hands, came up on her toes, and brushed his lips with hers. “I think I might give up my freedom for you. What would I miss?”

“Had I met you while I was married to Yvette and you were married to Sir Peter, I would have said freedom was the right to love you, body and soul. Beautiful, wanton body and proper, delightful soul,” he clarified.

“I may choose to use my minutes learning how to love you.” Her eyes twinkled. “Or I may not.”

Her hands fell away and she stepped back. “Your Grace, we must return to the drawing room or our absence will be marked.”

Blood was running hot in Hugo’s veins. He had a cockstand that was definitely not hidden by his cutaway waistcoat, and probably wasn’t going anywhere as long as Ophelia was within an arm’s length.

She raised a finger. “We cannot embarrass Lady Woolhastings. You must extract yourself from your obligations, no matter how ephemeral, before you pay me so much as a morning call.”

A smile burst over his face, together with a wild surge of lust. “After we marry, we shall retire to my castle and live there for a month—six months!—no society, just the two of us.”

She raised an eyebrow. “And a nursery full of children?” But she looked pleased. “I shall take your request into consideration.”

“May I kiss you, please, Phee?”

She shook her head. “I would not kiss a man who is nominally another woman’s.”

A duke always realizes the limits of his power.

Hugo bowed and kissed his lady’s gloved hand.

His heart sang.

Chapter Fifteen