His Grace, The Duke: Second Sons Book Two
His Grace, The Duke: Chapter 6

Rosalie’s surprised little gasp sent Burke’s heart racing faster. He meant every word. He would marry this woman today if she’d let him. This very hour. From the moment they met all those weeks ago, he couldn’t be near her and not want to look at her…to touch, to worship, to claim.

She consumed him…or he ached to be consumed.

Either way, it didn’t matter.

She blushed, trying to lean away. She was nervous. Retreating. Building her walls. He saw the way her heart fluttered. He felt it rising and falling between them as he pressed in slightly.

“Heavens,” she said on a breath. “So now you want to marry me?”

He raised a hand and let his fingers trail along her jaw, down the line of her neck. He didn’t bother to hide his smile as he felt her lean into his touch. This little siren was always hungry for more. “Would you ever let me?”

She sighed, closing her eyes tight, before she whispered, “No.”

It shouldn’t have hurt him to hear her say it aloud…but it did. The twinge was most definitely there. And she knew it too.

She leaned in. “Burke, I love you. But—”

“But no cages,” he replied, placing two fingers over her parted lips to quiet her. “I know. I respect your choices, I do. I just…please don’t explain it again. I don’t think I can bear to hear you deny me twice in the same breath.”

“But do you believe me?” she pressed. “You believe I have no intention to marry your friends either? I like my life. I like making my own decisions, being my own mistress—”

“I know,” he repeated, more firmly this time.

She quieted with a nod.

Looking at her made his heart ache. The long hours he’d just spent thinking she’d left him for James were a torture. He’d been a madman. A man possessed with a single purpose: getting to Rosalie. Following Rosalie. Holding Rosalie again.

Was it possible to still miss a person when they were right before you? When you actually had your hands on them, feeling their warmth against your skin?

“You are so beautiful,” he murmured. “I want to feel you everywhere. Every moment, I want you. I want your skin against mine. Married…unmarried…I just want to be yours.”

She closed her eyes again, shaking her head with a soft whimper. “Burke, this is madness. How can this be real?”

He cupped her cheek with a gentle hand. “You know you feel it too. You’ve felt it from the beginning.”

“I don’t even know your name,” she whispered, opening her eyes. “You won’t tell me.”

He grinned. “And if I tell you, you’ll marry me? Is that your condition? I accept—”

“There should be no conditions between us,” she replied with exasperation. “You should want to tell me. You should want me to know everything about you. No secrets. No hiding. I couldn’t bear it.”

His smile widened. There was no great mystery to his name. Indeed, if she was really interested, she could have asked any of a dozen people at Alcott to reveal the secret. Hell, even Blanche Oswald knew it. But he was willing to play along. Let this be his great sacrifice for his unpardonable behavior in the morning room.

“Fine,” he said with a fake sigh. “If it means that much to you, I suppose I can tell you my name. But I must warn you, it’s terrible.”

She leaned in, eyes alight with new interest. “Tell me.”

“There’s only one person living who actually uses it,” he hedged. “Not even my brother calls me by my Christian name. Not Tom. Not James—”

“Just tell me,” she cried, slapping his chest.

He laughed, snatching her hand, and planting a kiss on her palm before she could pull away. “It’s Horatio.”

She blinked, her lips slightly parted. “Horatio? As in…”

“As in ‘There are more things in Heaven and Earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.’”

She smiled softly, her dark eyes sparkling with delight. “Hamlet, right?”

“Aye, my mother is a whore, but a well-read one,” he replied, giving her hand another kiss. “Hamlet was always her favorite.”

“So you are Mr. Horatio Burke,” she murmured in the sweetest voice. Raising a hand, she cupped his cheek. “And now you are my Horatio.”

The sound of his name on her lips made his cock twitch…which was deeply confusing, as the only person he allowed to use it was his sweet maman. Perhaps it was her claims of ownership that had him aching. Or perhaps it was merely Rosalie’s touch that excited him. Her presence. That spiced floral scent that filled his senses. She was still using his massage oil. She had to be nearly out of it by now. Was she rationing? Did she think of him as she dabbed it on her delicate wrists?

“Stop looking at me like that,” she whispered.

“Like what?” he replied, knowing damn well what she meant.

“Like…”

He leaned in, ghosting his lips over hers, teasing them with the tip of his tongue. “Like what, sweet siren?”

“I want you too,” she whispered. “I want all of you. The parts you show the world, and the parts you hide away. I want Horatio and Burke. Can you ever let me have both? Even without the piece of paper binding us one to the other…can you learn to trust me with both?”

“I’m untrusting by nature,” he admitted, cupping her cheek again.

She covered his hand with her own, turning her face to kiss his palm. “We can both try. That’s all either of us can ask of the other. Patience and the will to try…the will to trust. I said I love you, and I meant it. I loved you as Burke, and I mean to love you as Horatio too. Will you show him to me?”

He groaned, pulling away from her. “Christ, enough. Say more, and I’ll show him to you right here on the library floor.” He glanced over his shoulder towards the door. “I can’t imagine we’ll be alone much longer. Tom was only going around the corner. If not him, a nosy maid is sure to come in with a tray at any moment.”

Rosalie blinked. “Renley? He came with you?”

“Of course.” He stepped away from her, checking the time on the mantle clock. “I’m surprised he’s not back already.” He sank onto the sofa, stretching out his long legs. “Marianne said you met last night. Did you like her?”

At the lady’s name, Rosalie flinched. That was proof enough for Burke to confirm his suspicions. He smirked.

“Did she—she journeyed north with you?” she murmured, her cheeks blooming pink.

“Yes, well we were rather impatient to follow after you,” he mused, taking a sip of his coffee. He watched her with open curiosity. What thoughts now spun through his sweet siren’s mind? “She offered Tom and I use of her carriage. Did you like her?” he repeated. “I sensed from Tom that perhaps the two of you didn’t get on…”

Rosalie sank onto the sofa opposite him and busied her hands with pouring herself a cup of coffee. “Yes, we met,” she replied, her voice clipped. “She told me their happy news.”

Burke raised a brow. “Happy news?”

She nodded, both hands holding tight to her cup as she raised it to her lips. “Their engagement. Marianne told me herself.”

Burke’s heart stopped. Fear mingled with rage and confusion. It wasn’t true. It couldn’t be true. He rattled his cup onto the saucer, smacking them both down on the side table. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Renley and Marianne,” she replied. “They’re engaged.”