Falling for Her Captor by Elisabeth Hobbes

Author:Elisabeth Hobbes [Hobbes, Elisabeth]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2014-10-01T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

Aline waited in the Duke’s chambers, sick to her stomach. She had awoken from her faint, bewildered to find herself lying on the ground. Brushing aside Jack’s and Kate’s pleas for her to return to her own room to recover, she had insisted on going straight to Stephen’s quarters to wait. Seeing her determination, the pair had escorted her there before Jack had reluctantly left the two women together and returned to his duties.

The late-afternoon sky had turned a murky purple-grey before the door was slammed open and Stephen marched in. Aline rose from her seat, disconcerted to feel her legs shaking. She willed herself not to faint again, not entirely sure that Stephen would not leave her unconscious on the floor.

The Duke shrugged off his cloak, draping it over a chair. With a mocking look in his eye he bowed in an exaggerated flourish, then tugged Aline’s unwilling hand to his lips in a parody of chivalry. Aline could smell the wine on his breath and her apprehension increased.

Kate moved to stand at Aline’s shoulder and Stephen’s eyes turned to the girl.

‘Leave us,’ he ordered.

Kate looked to Aline for confirmation. Stephen walked around Aline to where she stood. Aline watched with revulsion as he took the girl by the hand. He led her to the doorway and took her chin in his hand, tilting her face upwards to gaze into her wary eyes.

‘Your concern for your mistress does you credit, my dear, but we need no chaperon. Farewell.’ He pushed her gently out of the room and closed the door firmly behind her, then turned to Aline, running his tongue around his lips with a leer.

‘You disgust me!’ she said.

His response was a scornful laugh. Aline found her palms itching to slap him and fought to control her anger.

‘I think you should start treating me with more deference now you are to be my loving and dutiful wife,’ Stephen said mockingly.

‘I will never love you,’ Aline shot at him.

‘I don’t need your love.’ He laughed. ‘I don’t want it.’

He crossed the room and stood in front of Aline. Taller by a head, he towered over her, a tight smile transforming his handsome face into something grotesque.

‘I want your obedience and somewhere to spill my seed until you give me an heir.’

With a gasp of horror Aline stumbled away from him and backed against the table.

‘Tell me when!’ she cried out, her voice cracking, no longer caring to hide her torment.

A look of triumph crossed Stephen’s face and she feared he would not answer—that he would force her to beg, or worse, for the information—but to her surprise he drew a fold of parchment from his jerkin and passed it to her.

Aline sank onto a chair and scanned the message rapidly. ‘And you agree to this?’ she asked warily. ‘I am to return to Leavingham for a year?’

‘Or until your grandfather dies.’ Stephen nodded. ‘So long, I know, but I’m sure it will barely feel like days.’

It was late before the Duke allowed Aline to return to her chamber.

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