Slightly Dangerous (Bedwyn Saga, #6)

by Mary Balogh

And infatuated be damned. He was near to being blinded by his attraction to her. He was in love, damn it all. He disliked her, he resented her, he disapproved of almost everything about her, yet he was head over ears in love with her, like a foolish schoolboy. He wondered grimly what he was going to do about it. He was not amused. Or in any way pleased.

She was horribly in love with him. Horribly, she supposed, being the operative word. Ignominiously might be even better.

He had never expected to fall in love. He had certainly never expected to develop an attachment to someone so very ineligible. And so he was quite unprepared to deal with the emotional turmoil that doing both had brought with it.

He feared that he was a little more than just in love with Christine Derrick. He very much feared that she had become essential to his happiness.

“I believe you were put on this earth to bring light to your fellow mortals, Mrs. Derrick. And I believe you should stop assuming that you know me and understand me.”

“I have never been quite sure what love is, but I certainly know what love is not. Love does not destroy the beloved or cause her endless suffering.”

Wulfric Bedwyn, the oh-so-toplofty, oh-so-frosty Duke of Bewcastle, was shocked into uttering a short bark of laughter. Then he smiled at her slowly until his whole face beamed his amusement and affection.

I knew that I could never marry unless I met the woman who could be soul of my soul. Frankly, I did not expect ever to meet her. I am not a man who has inspired much love.”

“Christine,” he said, “you are light and joy and the embodiment of love. If you were to agree to be my wife, I would not expect you to shape yourself into your image of what a duchess should be—or into anyone else’s image either. Aunt Rochester would have a good try. I would expect—I would demand—only that you be you. If anyone does not like your style of duchess, then to hell with that person. But I would not expect it to happen. You have a gift for attracting love and laughter, even from people who have no intention of loving you or laughing with you.”

I love the Duke of Bewcastle as he is. He is formidable and magnificent and dangerous—especially when he hauls villains to their feet with one hand and dangles them above the floor and throws terror into them with a few soft words.”

But then his face came into focus. It was handsome in a cold, austere way, with stern jaw, thin lips, high cheekbones, and a prominent, slightly hooked, finely chiseled nose. The face of the Duke of Bewcastle. The face of the man she loved with all her heart. Wulfric’s face.