So he was never able to touch for affection? Since the age of five? Luciana’s heart ached when she imagined how lonesome he must have been. She paced toward the chairs in front of the hearth. By the goddesses, she should be afraid the Beast would touch her. But she was much more upset by the wretched truth that he could never touch her. By marrying him, she was joining him in a life of loneliness.
Her father settled into a chair with his goblet of wine. “Leo swore to me he would never harm you. I believe he is sincere, so I agreed to let him meet you alone.” He took a long drink. “Did the meeting not go well?”
She wandered back to the sideboard and took a drink from her goblet. “I wasn’t alone when … the Lord Protector came.” She wasn’t comfortable calling him Leo. It seemed to denote an intimacy they could never have. “A few minutes before his arrival, Captain Bougaire barged in and demanded I elope with him.”
“What?” The duke’s eyes widened with horror.
“Did you know that he and—” Luciana drew closer to her father as she quickly glanced around the room to make sure no guards were nearby.
“Damn him,” the duke growled, then lowered his voice to a whisper. “I warned her over and over to stay away from the captain. But it seemed like the more I objected, the more she was determined to thwart me.” He jumped to his feet and picked up a poker. “I should have sacked him.” He jabbed at the fire.
“The Lord Protector challenged him to a duel. Dawn tomorrow in the courtyard.”
“Damn!” The duke stabbed at a log, then glanced back at her. “Was Leo … angry with you?”
Luciana thought back over the conversation. He’d certainly glared daggers at the captain, but his gaze at her had been … different. Filled with hunger and longing. Pain and anguish. “No, he wasn’t.”
“Ah, good.” Her father returned the poker to its rack, then rested a hand on her shoulder. “I know it must be frightening for you, but it will all work out well. In order to keep you safe, Leo has agreed to be wed in name only. He will return to his duties as Lord Protector, traveling with the army and patrolling the border.”
“I see.” He would spend his life avoiding her so he wouldn’t harm her. At the convent, she’d always dreamed that marriage would include love and joy. And children. Not a lifetime of loneliness.
“He has a small estate near Ebton. He said you were welcome to live there. But if you prefer, you could remain here.” The duke squeezed her shoulder. “Of course, I would like for you to stay here.”
Tears stung her eyes. “I would like that, too.”
“Wonderful.” With a smile, the duke drew her into his arms. “Then it’s all settled.” He patted her on the back. “Leo will be happy with the arrangement. He thought you would be safer here.”
He would be happy? Did the man even know what happiness was? She buried her face in her father’s shirt. Her dream man would never touch her, never be a true husband. And she would be safe.
She should be relieved. She could remain here at Vindemar with her father, and her every need would be taken care of. So why did she feel like crying?
Chapter Fifteen
Hours later, Luciana was back in her room in the tower. The newly installed bolt was shot, and there were a total of six guards posted in the tower: two on the ground level, two on the floor below her where the privy was located, and two outside her door.
Before returning to the tower, she’d made a quick stop at her dressing room. Gabriella had helped her remove the gold brocade gown and put on a simple one she could handle alone. As soon as the sun had set, she’d donned the hooded black cloak, so she could secretly return to the tower. Jensen had warned her, though, that Captain Bougaire had spread the word that he was defending her honor at dawn. Soon everyone would know she was not at death’s door. Including the assassins.
Alone now in the tower room, she paced about. A candle on the table cast flickering shadows on the walls. With a sigh, she stopped at the window where the Lord Protector had made his dramatic exit. Would he come see her again? What if something happened to him during the duel?
A surge of sympathy swept through her. The poor man. How many times since the age of five had he endured the pain of lightning strikes? At eight, he’d lost both parents. Seen his mother murdered by his uncle’s assassins. Had there been no one who could embrace him while he’d mourned? Had he grown up never able to hug anyone? How terribly lonesome his existence must be.
As she put on her nightgown, she recalled how he’d said they had no choice but to marry. But now she wondered if he actually wanted to marry her. When he’d sneaked into the tower, his heated gaze had slowly wandered over her. She’d seen the hunger in his eyes. Oh, he had wanted to touch her. She’d felt it down to her bones.
A shiver ran down her spine, and she glanced down at her sheer nightgown. Goddesses, help me! She could see a hint of pink and the hardening tips of her nipples. Was it her imagination or could she actually glimpse the shape of her legs and the darker patch between them?
She pressed her hands against her hot cheeks.
You’re bold. I like that.
She groaned. Not that bold. How would she ever look him in the face again?
Her sister suddenly appeared beside her. “Luciana!”
She gasped. “Must you always startle—” She noticed the distraught look on Tatiana’s face. “What’s wrong?”