Dropping her gaze, Heather shifted the food on her plate with her fork. “Actually, I was … wondering about… appearances. How will it look if we … if you …”

“If I leave my bride alone on our wedding night? Who’s to know that we’re newly wedded?”

“I would know. I thought… you … we …”

“You thought we would consummate our union, is that it?”

Her cheeks flushed at his plain speaking. “It is customary for a married couple, I understand.”

Sloan muttered a curse under his breath. With such unsettling feelings of guilt and disloyalty churning inside him, he’d hoped to avoid the consummation tonight—maybe give them both time to come to terms with the strangeness of this situation, this unwanted union. But in fact, there was no real reason not to go through with it. Randolf’s car had ample space, where an ordinary sleeping berth would have been crowded. And the large bed was as inviting as any he’d seen, well-suited to the purpose of lovemaking.

Perhaps it was best to get it over with now. If only to put it behind them and help the duchess get over her obvious apprehension. She kept glancing at him like a nervous filly, like she expected him to tie her to the bed and rape her.

Hell, he was just as uneasy with her, Sloan reflected, though he doubted she would believe it. He’d never felt so uncomfortable with a woman; this proper lady with her elegant airs and treatises written in French was so different from his late wife. He didn’t like the memories of the past the duchess dredged up, or his unwanted attraction for her. Didn’t like what she made him feel, how raw she made his emotions.

And yet walking out on her now might be considered a bit cruel. She would doubtless find it humiliating to be left alone on her wedding night.

Could he stay? Could he take her body and bind her to him in marriage? Could he make the fact of their union irrevocable?

Truth to tell, it wouldn’t really be a hardship to make love to her… except for the danger to his own defenses. He didn’t want to be tempted by that white, silken skin, that lush, cool beauty of hers. He was scared as hell he would enjoy the experience too much, when all he wanted was to remain true to the memory of his late wife. Desiring the duchess the way he did seemed somehow traitorous.

He couldn’t ignore the powerful need she aroused in him. Couldn’t stop remembering their kiss yesterday, the way her mouth had softened and shaped itself to his … how they’d almost lit a brushfire between them. At the thought, his manhood began to stir.