Page 15 of A Duchess Untouched
Lord Marlow watched his cat keenly. Then, he asked, “Selina, did you come in contact with a dog as of late?”
“Oh, yes. My husband has a dog. A large mastiff the size of a pony,” she explained, as her hand started petting Napoleon’s soft, warm fur.
“A mastiff?” Lord Marlow huffed, shaking his head with disdain. “This is why Napoleon looks upset. I must say, I am not certain I can trust anyone who prefers dogs over cats. A cat has its own dignity, as you can see in Napoleon. A dog is merely waiting for someone to tell him he has been a good boy.”
“Norman, please!” Lady Marlow cried. “That is entirely beside the point! Our conversation is not about cats and dogs!”
“It should be, then,” Lord Marlow grumbled, picking his gazette up to focus on the news instead. “I have never met a mastiff owner who did not display quite a temper himself.”
“Grandpapa is right about that,” Selina murmured. “The Duke has a temper. In fact, both he and his dog were furious about the lie concerning my supposed death. You have put me in so much trouble, Grandmama! My husband thought I had a hand in what he believed was a prank. He still probably believes that I did it so that I can lure him to my bed!”
“Stop being hysterical, Selina,” Lady Marlow chided. “Let your husband think what he pleases. What is important is that he is back in London. I made that happen. Now, it is your turn to do your part and keep him here as I told you!”
“My turn? There was absolutely no point in bringing him home under false pretenses! Do you know what he said last night?”
Selina did not have to tell her grandmother that he had uttered those words after passionately kissing her. No, she was frightened the Baroness would exclaim in triumph.
“What did he tell you?” Lady Marlow urged.
“He informed me that he plans to leave again soon.” Napoleon paused his movements over her lap. Then, he resumed purring as if trying to comfort Selina.
“Oh, that is why it is pivotal that you act fast,” Lady Marlow said.
“Act fast?” Selina echoed, feeling a cold dread. “What do you mean?”
“You are going to seduce your husband, Selina,” Lady Marlow replied, fixing her granddaughter with a determined stare. “You must do it before the week is over. You should ensure that he leaves you with an heir!”
“Grandmama!” Portia protested, her eyes bulging. “What has come over you lately? That is utterly scandalous. That does not sound like something one should say aloud.”
“You will one day understand what this is about when you have a husband of your own. Men are not so different from horses. Both require a firm hand, regular feeding, and the occasional reminder of who is truly in charge.”
“Who is a horse?” asked Lord Marlow.
“Do not get involved in this, Norman!” the Baroness yelled. Then she muttered, “I swear, this man is deaf whenever it suits him.”
“Well, this is why I never wish to marry! You make it sound so much like warfare.”
“Silence, Portia,” the Baroness admonished. “Marriage can be warfare for women like us.”
Selina’s mind drifted back to how easily the Duke could unravel her. He had made her want things she did not even understand. How was she meant to seduce a man who had already promised to strip her bare, to take her against his desk while she trembled helplessly in his arms? Her face burned at the memory of their last encounter.
“I… I cannot do that, Grandmama,” Selina stammered. “You do not understand. I have been married for four years, and my husband was never once there to teach me anything about marriage, let alone seduction. Nobody teaches these things to young ladies. I can play the pianoforte. I can pour tea and arrange seating according to precedence. But seduction? Besides, Matthew will be hard to win over. He already resents me.”
“Oh, Selina, you know you are my pride and joy, and my most accomplished granddaughter. But you are quite right. None of those skills will keep a duke in your bed,” Lady Marlow agreed. “However, look at yourself. You underestimate yourself terribly if you have forgotten you have a face every debutante envied that Season, and envies still, and a figure men once dared to write poetry about. I am not asking you to become a lady of the night. That would be preposterous. I am only asking you to go after what is already yours by right. Be a woman who refuses to be ignored a moment longer.”
“But he does not want me,” Selina breathed out, her fingers seeking the comfort of Napoleon’s fur. “He has proven it with his words.”
“The Duke might still be angry, but this anger can mean something else. He knows you have the power to elicit strong emotions from him. The man abandoned whatever business kept him in the country and rode half his horses to death to reach London, by your own account. Anger does not ride like that, my dear. Not on its own.” Lady Marlow’s eyes gleamed.
“Then what do you suggest I do?” Selina asked, sighing. She had to admit she was curious about what her grandmother knew and could do.
“First of all, do not fret. I know precisely what must be done. Follow my instructions, and I promise you, your husband will not think of leaving London again.”
Chapter 8
“Stay, Maximus.”
The mastiff immediately froze at attention. Maximus sat on the damp grass, his tail swinging excitedly. His impatient eyes focused on Matthew’s pistol, waiting for it to fire.
