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into her husband. His hand continued to stroke her, as if soothing a skittish mare, and she could never remember being touched this way - not in kindness.       “Honor is a word men use so they may commit a multitude of sins.”
    “I will not hurt you.” Eva felt his breath in her hair.
    “Men always s-say that but they do not mean it.”
    “I mean it,” the duke vowed. “I know you have little reason to trust me, Duchess, yet I would ask that you try.”
    “Please, your Grace, don’t do this now, not when we both harbor such a distrust of each other.”  
     
    Daniel fell silent and just held her close. Her heartbeat had eased; one of her hands held his robe, the other lay flat against his chest. He could feel the dampness of her tears as they trickled down his neck and something inside him moved. Something clenched in the region of his heart, and he was discomfited to realize he felt at peace holding her, almost as if they were comforting each other. His fingers absently loosened the silken length of her plait as his mind worked through the emotions that raged inside him. Her words kept repeating themselves inside his head: Why are you loyal to a man who cared so little for you?  
    “Honor is the one thing my father has not taken from me.”   He heard the pain behind his words. The anger and sense of betrayal still ran deep within him.  
    “I...I have known you such a short time, your Grace, yet I had believed that unlike the other men in my life you were a man of honor, a man who would not force a woman to do his bidding.”
    Daniel listened as his wife spoke, her soft words tickling his skin and seeming to soothe the ache in his chest. Lifting a handful of her hair, he buried his face in the sweet-smelling curls. “I will never be like my father.”
    “As I will never be like mine,” she vowed.
      Her fingers were stroking his chest, the movements light as a child’s touch, but Daniel felt the sensation through his whole body. “I lived my life believing I knew the future I had mapped out for myself,” he said, “yet in the end, as he did in my youth, my father betrayed me.” Daniel felt the small puff of his wife’s breath on his skin as he finished speaking. “My words amuse you, Duchess?”
    She lifted her head to look up at him but in the darkness, her expression eluded him. “At least you had the choice of how to live your life, your Grace. Traveling here with you is the first time I have left my father’s home.”
    Slowly, Daniel trailed his fingers over her face, tracing the jut of one cheekbone, the rounded tip of her nose, then the full softness of her lower lip. Everything was different here in the darkness. Inside this room, they were two people who spoke only the truth. He could not do it, could not take her against her will knowing she had been mistreated her entire life.
    “No one will hurt you again,” Daniel vowed, swinging her up into his arms.
    “No!” She struggled as he carried her toward the bed.
    “Ssssh,” Daniel whispered, lowering her onto the mattress. Pulling the covers back, he slid her inside. Bracing his hands on either side of her head, he looked down at her.  
    “You are right, Duchess. I have no right to take you with so much rage inside me. I apologize for causing you more pain when the reality is that you have had more than your share for one so young.” Lifting a handful of her hair, he smoothed it on the pillow. “I must leave here now before the anger that burns deep inside forces me to do something I would regret. I will return someday under different circumstances, and then we will consummate this marriage and you will have your child, but until then, know that here at Stratton you are your own mistress, safe from the hands of your father.”
    She touched the side of his face briefly, her fingers soft as they ran down his cheek.  
    “Goodbye, Duchess.”
    “Goodbye, Duke.”
    Taking her fingers in his he gave them a final squeeze and