Waking Up With the Duke Read Free Page A

sheets was such an intimate act—how could he bear the thought of Ainsley knowing about her what only Walfort had ever known?
    “Ainsley has a reputation for being a marvelous lover—” he began.
    “I am well aware of that. He is all the ladies talk of.”
    “So he can make it pleasant for you.” He squeezed her hand. “You deserve that at least.”
    “All of London will know it’s not your child. That you’ve been cuckolded.”
    “No, they won’t. I’ve never taken out an advert in the Times stating my limitations. Oh, there will be speculation, of course, but we can quell that easily enough once people see how thrilled I am that you are with child.”
    “And if it’s a boy?”
    “Then I shall have my heir.”
    “But he will not carry your blood.”
    “He will carry Seymour blood. As I told Ainsley, it will be close enough.”
    Her mouth tingled. She thought she was going to be ill. “You’ve already discussed this madness with him?”
    “I had to know he was agreeable.”
    “Of course he’d be agreeable. It is a skirt to lift.”
    His low chuckle took her by surprise. “He was not quite so in favor of it as I’d expected. He did not think you would welcome him.”
    “I will not.”
    “Jayne, you’ve been a devoted wife. Why should you not have this?”
    She was grateful for the dark, that he couldn’t see the blush warming her cheeks or the tears filling her eyes.
    “He can give you what I cannot,” he said softly. “You are a young woman who has had to lock all her dreams in a musty old trunk, because of your husband’s poor judgment.”
    “In a friend. A friend to whom you would now give me. It’s revolting.”
    “He did not force the drink down my throat. I went willingly into the curricle, encouraged the horses to go faster—”
    She brought his hand to her lips, pressed a kiss to the backs of his fingers, knowing he would feel the dampness coating her cheeks, the tears gathering at the corners of her mouth.
    “Ah, Jayne.”
    He wrapped his hand around the nape of her neck and drew her down until her face was buried in the nook of his shoulder.
    “Do not ask this of me,” she rasped.
    “I will not force you. Neither will he, but know that I will understand if you change your mind. You deserve a child. You deserve a man who will not only put your pleasure above his, but will ensure that your enjoyment far exceeds his.”
    Not Ainsley. Never Ainsley. Sinners would have a need for overcoats in hell before she’d willingly give herself to the man she despised more than any other.

Chapter 2
     
    J ayne slipped out of her husband’s bed near dawn, leaving him in the company of his snores. She’d not slept well. Guilt had reared its ugly head, guilt that she’d lost his heir. Not that she knew for certain that the babe had been a boy. But in her heart she couldn’t help but think that he had been. Losing the child had been like losing a piece of her soul. And when the full extent of Walfort’s injuries had been made clear, all their dreams went astray.
    But for him to believe that she would welcome into her bed the man responsible—it was beyond the pale. Reviling. Made her sick at heart. She was grateful that she had far too many other things to occupy her mind today as she prepared for the arrival of her guests. The sooner she got started working on what needed to be done, the sooner she could shove these unsettling thoughts from her mind.
    She rang for her maid, Lily. Within the hour, Jayne was dressed in a simple lilac dress so she could move about quickly. At noon she would change into something more appropriate for receiving her guests. Once a yearly event, they’d not hosted a hunt since the accident. She’d feared it would serve as both a distraction from what might have been and a reminder of what had been. But Walfort insisted it was long past time that they begin to socialize once more. Finally embracing the notion, she had high expectations for uncharacteristic