Sacrifice (Fashionably Impure Book 3) by Natasha Blackthorne Page B

the
risqué meaning of what he’d said dawned on her.
    And then the shock that she should be
shocked by any man’s frank talk.
    However, all this time, Ruel had been a
perfect gentleman with her.
    Then again, she’d never before smelled
the strong odor of whisky coming off him.
    Unease began to wind through her
mid-section. They had all treated her with the utmost respect. She had become so
used to being treated like a lady. Like a relative by marriage.
    She had forgotten the truth of what she
was.
    The bastard-born daughter of a duke. A
former courtesan.
    And whilst Adrian held this cousin in the
highest regard and trust, she didn’t really know these people.
    God, what would she say or do if this
nobleman should make an advance…or worse, a demand?
    It would be his word against hers. And
being a nobleman, likely if caught or confronted, he would claim that it was she who had propositioned him?
    She began to feel slightly ill.
    Ruel was studying her. “You’ve turned
pale.”
    She touched her cheek. “Have I?”
    She heard the sudden shaking in her
voice.
    “Are you sure that you are feeling all
right?”
    She nodded.
    “You look more afraid than ill.” He
paused. ”Lady Danvers, surely you don’t fear than I am going to do anything
untoward?”
    “Oh goodness, no, I…”
    He frowned and studied her all the
harder. “It is indelicate to mention it, but given your history, surely you
understand men better than that.”
    “I don’t know what you mean.”
    “Lady Ruel has been with child and rather
unwell with it for some time now. But you think that if I were of a mind to
betray her that I would wait until tonight?” Mild amusement lit his gaze.
“You’re certainly a desirable young woman. It is not hard to guess why Danvers
lost his head over you.”
    A pang of alarm resurged beneath her
breast. Yet, she saw no trace of lust in his gaze.
    Instead, there was a softness there that
she had never seen from him before. A sincere type of friendly regard.
    “Adrian had said that you were more
innocent than you seemed.”
    Again, she didn’t know what to say. She
didn’t really know how to interact with a nobleman outside a sexual type
situation, did she?
    Oddly, she felt a blush heat her cheeks
and she looked down at her book. But the words on the page were still a jumble.
    “So, you’re going to put Danvers through
this business some day, eh?”
    “Err, what business?” she replied,
dumbly, his words not registering through her flustered senses.
    It wasn’t simply this awkward moment with
the Earl of Ruel. Lady Ruel’s labor had brought back all the disturbing
memories of the night Mama had struggled so hard to bear her brother.
    All that struggle and yet, he had died in
his infancy.
    The remembered grief, both for her brother
and for Mama, weighed upon her.
    It also brought to mind all her sadness
about her delayed childbearing, all the years that she thought she would never,
ever be a mother, for Carrville’s seed had never taken root.
    But she also was aware of all her buried anxiety
over what it would be like to deliver her own child. To be a mother to a
helpless infant.
    God, was she even adequate to fulfill
such a responsibility?
    “This business of childbearing.” He
paused. She heard the sound of him pouring another drink. “She can be so proud,
so stiff-necked, knotty-headed proud.” He said this last as though he were
alone, his words slurring more noticeably. “You women live to torment us men,
don’t you?”
    She attempted a smile but she couldn’t
look at him. His intoxication, his self-revelation made her feel like an
interloper. “I suppose I should find my chamber.”
    “You know you’re not going to sleep.”
    “I should try—”
    “None of the adults in this house will be
able to sleep a wink this night.”
    Thwack!
    Something had hit the table.
    She looked up and saw a deck of cards
splayed there.
    “Indulge me,” Ruel said.
    She stared at him, dumbly. “But you