Taming an Unrepentant Earl (Taming the Duke's Heart Book 10)

by Tammy Andresen

“So what?” He straightened. “In my mind, our marriage is a foregone conclusion.”

  She stopped walking. “Well it never was in my mind.” She drew in a deep breath. “And if you really thought about it, you would know that the asking is important. That my opinion matters.” How did he not know that she was not a woman to be told? And for that matter, she wasn’t a woman who could ever accept an unwilling groom. She’d go it alone first. But she wasn’t telling him all this. He’d figure it out or he wouldn’t.

  He crossed his arms, looking down at her with narrowed eyes. “When a man of my station gets caught kissing a woman of yours, we marry. It’s that simple and you are making it complicated.”

  “Simple? Spending the rest of my life with a man who never wanted to marry me?” She drew in a shuddering breath. “I find I’ve lost my appetite.” Then she turned and left the room.

  * * *

  Harry watched her exit the room. His fists curled into tight balls. He wished there weren’t ladies present, he’d like to curse a blue streak. What the bloody hell had just happened?

  “You.” Bar reached out and poked him in the chest. “I need to speak with you.” Then he turned to the housekeeper. “Send a tray to Miss Sophie’s room. She needs to eat.”

  Without another word, Bar began walking out of the room. Harry knew his brother expected him to follow. Which irritated him to no end. “Now that you’re a duke, you don’t ask anymore?” he grouched as he fell in step behind his brother.

  “What’s your excuse, you bleedin’ egit?” Bar fired over his shoulder. “If you weren’t injured, I’d clock you the way you did Drew yesterday.”

  “Clock me?” Harry groused, despite the curl of regret blooming in his stomach. Bar had a point. He hadn’t asked a single thing.

  “You don’t go around demanding anything from a woman like Sophie. You ask. Very nicely. And then if she says no, you beg.” His brother stopped and turned. “She thinks you don’t actually want her because you didn’t ask her. And she’s too strong to marry you just because she’s in trouble. She won’t settle for an uncommitted man.”

  Bar turned and continued down the hall, but Harry couldn’t make himself move. Of course Sophie wouldn’t settle. How had that not occurred to him in the dining room just now? Or at any other point? “I thought we might both gain what we wanted out of life. She wants a baby and independence. I want to return to the army to stop the war, avenge Alfred’s death. It could be mutually beneficial.”

  Bar stopped again, now several paces away. “Did you articulate any of that or did you just grunt and demand?”

  Harry scowled. “I don’t grunt.”

  Bar released a long breath. “You’re one step from an ape. Now go ask her in a reasoned manner. If that doesn’t work, then tell her the moon sets in her eyes and the sun rises on the blush of her cheeks. And for god’s sake, use the word love in some fashion. I know you didn’t just kiss her on the cheek last night. I’ll not allow you to bring a bastard into this world. I’ll see you both married at the end of my pistol if it comes to that, but you’ll have an easier go of it, if she’s willing.”

  Harry’s breath ceased. “How did you know what we did last night?”

  Bar glowered, his brow dropping low. “I wasn’t born yesterday. Now go. And be gracious.”

  “You become more like our father every day. You know that?” Bar was taking command of this family while holding up its values. He gave his brother a pat on the shoulder. Bar was a good man.

  “Thank you.” Bar straightened but then pulled Harry in a quick hug. “Now get out of my sight.”

  Harry did as his brother bid. Bar was right on several counts, and if there was one thing the army taught a man, it was how to take orders. Now he just had to convince one little spitfire of a brunette that he could, in fact, take them from her.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Sophie lay across her bed, staring at the far wall. A tray had been brought in, but she hadn’t bothered to eat.

  Closing her eyes, she rubbed her temple with one hand. She blamed herself, at least partly. She should have discussed her decision with Harry last night. But she blamed him too. Or maybe neither was wrong. Maybe she was just too independent for a man like Harry.

  That thought started an ache in her chest, but she pressed her hand to cover it. She’d already known they wouldn’t marry so why did the idea hurt so much?

  A knock sounded at her door. “Go away,” she called. She didn’t want to talk to anyone now.

  “Sophie,” Harry said through the paneling.

  She sat up and looked at the closed door. “Yes?”

  “Please let me in.” He paused for a moment. “I’d like to apologize.”

  That got her attention and she got out of bed. “Apologize for what?” she asked as she crossed the room, heart hammering with hope in her chest.

  “You were right, but I’d like to tell you that while looking at your face instead of a panel of wood.”

  A ghost of a smile touched her lips as she swung the door open. Harry stood on the other side leaning against the jam.

  “Right about what?” She stepped aside, gesturing for him to come in. Her heart beat wildly in her chest as he stepped into her room.

  He stopped, looking around. “This doesn’t look like the rest of the house? It’s less…”

  “Polished?” She folded her arms over her chest, wishing she could shield herself from the sadness squeezing her heart. “I thought when I married, I’d move to the room I have Bar and Emily in now. This would have become the nursery, so it didn’t need to be redecorated yet.”

  “I like it,” he said as he crossed the room and sat on her bed.

  She followed, taking a seat on the bed as well, though she left several feet between them. He drew in a deep breath. “You’re right that I never asked. I’m sorry. A woman such as yourself deserves a proper proposal.”

  She cocked her head to the side, ignoring the excited butterflies beating in her stomach. She would not get excited. He was being polite, and if she read more into it, she’d regret it. “A woman such as myself?”

  He gave a nod, reaching for her hand. “Yes. I should have known I couldn’t tell you to do anything.”

  Her lips pressed together, but the hope that had been blooming deep inside fluttered to her throat. “I am rather stubborn.”

  He lightly stroked her hand, his thumb making her skin tingle. “So I’d like to ask. Would you please consent to be my wife?”

  A rushing filled her ears. Oh, how she wanted to say yes. “But your career. It’s important to you.”

  He gave a stiff nod. “It is. And your ability to run your life is important to you. Why can’t we marry and meet both of our goals?”

  Suddenly, she understood. She wouldn’t be keeping him from the army. He had every intention of returning. “And a baby?”

  “I have a few months before I can return. We’ll see if we can’t give you what you want before I go.”

  She blinked. An absent husband? And an absentee father should he manage to get her with child before he returned to the front? A week ago, this would have been the perfect solution. But as she looked at Harry, she knew she’d been right this morning. Her feelings ran deeper than attraction. She loved him. Her heart was his and she couldn’t take it back. It was part of the reason she’d been so hurt that he didn’t ask for her hand. Deep down, she understood, he didn’t ask because he didn’t feel the same way, he didn’t return her feelings. “I understand the value of what you’re offering…” she started.

  He winced. “I am sensing a but.”

  She shook her head. “I want to say yes.” She cleared her throat. She’d been about to say but…

  He raised his eyebrows. “But?”

  How did she say this without completely humiliating herself? “I don’t have the same detachment from you that I might from another man. When you leave…”

  Understanding dawned in his eyes and he reached for her, pulling her acr
oss the bed. He crushed her against his chest fitting her head in the hollow of his neck. “I need you to think of this another way. Last night, we didn’t hold back. And I…” He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing against her cheek. “I spilled my seed inside of you.”

  She gasped, understanding making her bolt upright as her head knocked into his chin. His teeth snapped together as he grunted. “Ouch.”

  “I’m sorry,” she muttered then grabbed his face, looking into his eyes. “Are you trying to say that even now a…” It was her turn to swallow. “A baby?”

  He gave a jerk of his chin. “Whatever reservations you have about me, the nature of our relationship, think about what’s best for you and for a child.” He slid from the bed, his knee coming to the floor as he reached for both of her hands. “I can give you this, Sophie. I can give you the protection of my name and my family. I can give you a child of your own.” He gave her hands a little squeeze. “Please say that you’ll consent to be my wife.”

  * * *

  Harry sweated like he was being burned by a fiery blaze. He touched his clammy temples, rubbing some of it off. He now understood why she’d wanted him to ask. Asking meant she could say no. Asking gave her a voice in the matter.

  He wasn’t worried about the wound his pride would take if she turned him down. Harry was far more worried about losing her. He could admit that to himself at least. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he’d thought that if he just held her, made love to her, he might be freed from the obsession he had with Sophie. That was always how it had been in the past for him. A good tup and he was ready to resume life as usual.

  But not this time. She’d only worked her way in deeper.

  He knew he was using her deepest wish against her, which made him horrid. But he couldn’t lose her and couldn’t lose the chance of providing for his son or daughter. He hated himself for giving into his worst rakish tendencies and he knew that fact made him unworthy of Sophie, but he’d deal with his regrets later. Right now, he just needed to keep her at his side. If he didn’t, he’d fail Alfred and the promise he’d made to protect her. He closed his eyes. Alfred had specifically requested that he keep his sister safe and provide for her future. His friend had never asked Harry to avenge his death. How had that not occurred to him before now?

  “Can I think about it? I didn’t want to be in this position and…” She nibbled on her lips again.

  This time he leaned down and kissed that mouth. Because watching her worry her lip made his insides frantic with lust. He sucked on her lip, just enough to soften her lips into a full kiss. She breathed into him, and he held her face, wanting her more than air. “I’d give you forever to think as long as you didn’t leave me, but Bar is quite anxious for an answer,” he said softly when they broke their kiss. “Seems he’s suspicious of my behavior.”

  She pulled back a little. “It would have helped if you’d been a bit more discreet in your comments.”

  In answer, he began trailing kisses down her neck. “That’s why I need you. Discretion has never been my strength.”

  She pulled in a breathy laugh just as her stomach gave a loud gurgle. “Oh dear.” Sophie covered her midsection with both hands.

  Harry pointed at the tray of food. “Big decisions are best made on full stomachs.” Truth be told, he was about to do exactly what Bar had suggested and beg. But she crossed the room and pulled a pasty from the tray. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Last night seems to have worn me out.”

  His jaw clenched. Thinking of last night made his loins tighten. Now he was adding desire to desperation. “I can’t say the same. I slept well for the first time in months.”

  “You don’t normally sleep well?” She took another large bite. “Is it because of your hip?”

  “Yes. Despite the exercise I’ve done, the damn thing pains me still.”

  She dropped the pasty and looked at him. “Is there a chance you might not return to the army? A chance you’ll just have to stay because your hip isn’t well enough?”

  He blinked twice before he schooled his features. Leading troops was a grueling affair and he could barely sit or stand without pain. Though he was improving, the pain may increase during the stress of battle. But if he didn’t go back what would he be? Another lord with a weak moral constitution? Not that all lords were but he feared that’s what he would be. What would Alfred say in this moment? What would he want Harry to do? Was Harry a man like Bar or like Mayfield?

  He looked at Sophie as she leaned toward him, her lips parted and her hands pressed to her belly. She wanted him to say that he might stay. He didn’t need to add that he’d yet to decide the best course of action. He drew in a deep breathe through his nose. “It is entirely possible that I will never be fit enough for field duty.” His jaw ticked with guilt. “But I have to warn you that I intend to try.”

  She picked up a strawberry and took a bite, red staining her lush pink lips. “I’ve decided to accept your proposal, just in case I am already with child.”

  Relief tugged at his shoulders. “Excellent.” He stood from the bed, his hip screaming from the sudden movement. He ignored the pain. Now if he could just ignore the guilt making his gut churn.

  Chapter Eighteen

  That night, Sophie paced in her room. She’d gotten engaged today, not that she’d had even a moment to contemplate the fact. Once Danielle and Emily had discovered the news, the day had been a flurry of activity.

  The bans would be posted this Sunday and the wedding two weeks after that. Emily had done a careful inventory of their dishes and held a meeting with the cook to discuss the wedding breakfast. Apparently, because she didn’t get to play matchmaker, she’d decided to become wedding coordinator instead.

  They’d also pulled out linens, dresses, silver, and surveyed the wine collection. Emily made a list of needed supplies as they worked. “Tomorrow we’ll go shopping. We’ll commission a dress, of course, and…”

  She’d continued, but Sophie stopped listening. She appreciated Emily’s work, of course. But deep down, she needed some time to understand what she’d just committed herself to. She was about to become a countess. A lady and a soldier’s wife.

  What would her duties be in relation to the land? Would she continue to live in her beloved home? Fear brewed in her stomach, and she touched it, pressing her fingers into the fabric of her dress. She’d so much wanted a husband who would give her control, and ended up losing all control of the situation. A man of his standing, surely, had certain expectations when it came to a spouse. What if she failed him? Only one person could answer these questions and so, she finally snuck out, softly closing her door and making her way down the dark hall.

  She knew which room Harry was in, she’d chosen it for him. Taking a deep breath, she softly knocked.

  He didn’t reply, but his boots on the wood floor alerted her that he’d heard her knock. Swinging open the door, he didn’t say a word as he pulled her inside and then closed the door behind her.

  “How did you know it was me?” she managed to ask just before his lips crashed down on hers.

  The kiss was like fire, branding her. Passion and heat blazed inside of her and for a minute, maybe more, she let it course through her. Then she placed her hands on his chest and pushed him back. “Harry, we need to talk.”

  He let out a groan. “I don’t want to talk. We talked this morning. I want to kiss you.”

  Despite herself, nervous energy curled her finger tips. She needed to understand before she allowed passion to consume her. “True, but I’ve only thought of more questions. Did you inherit a home with your title? Where will we live? If you return to the army, what will be my duties as countess?”

  He paused for a moment. “I have questions too.” He reached for her hands and began pulling her toward the bed. “Did you like it better when I kissed your left breast or your right?”

  She stopped, staring at him. “I don’t know. Is that important?”

  “Very. Let�
��s try again and I want you to decide.” The back of his legs hit the bed and he fell onto it, pulling her with him.

  The contact of her body on his sent a shiver racing down her spine. “Harry, please,” she panted out, trying to gain control of the situation again.

  “Very well, then. I can see you’re in need.” And he began kissing a trail down her neck.

  “That isn’t what I meant.” She tried to push up and off him but that required her legs to splay on either side of his hips and as she rocked to sit up, her core came in contact with the very large bulge in his pants. “Oh,” she moaned. This time, the moan was indeed one of passion.

  He knew it, and reached for her hips, working them back and forth down his length. The movement sent pleasure shooting through her core. Her hands braced on his chest as her toes curled.

  “Take down your hair,” he ordered.

  She did as he bid, unraveling the braid, as her hair cascading over one shoulder. Her hips, having found the rhythm, moved on their own accord. He slid his hands up her rib cage over to her breasts. As he kneaded the flesh, she arched her back into his touch, her head tipping back as her lips parted. “Yes,” she moaned.

  Her night rail had already ridden up her thighs, but one of his hands slipped down the hem and then cold night air slid along her legs and behind. Next thing she knew the garment sailed over her head, floating to the floor.

  She only had a moment to feel exposed before he tipped her down and popped one of her nipples into his mouth. She moaned again and he eased the touch but only to switch sides and taste the other.

  “Which one?” he asked, his arms wrapping around her back.

  “You answer one of my questions first,” she gasped as he increased the pressure.

  “You may live wherever you like.” He moved a single hand to grasp her behind as he once again guided her movements.

  “They both feel equally good,” she answered.

  He pushed her back up to sitting but only long enough to shrug his shirt off and then she was pressed to his bare chest. His hair tickled her now-damp nipples and she rubbed against him to feel it again.