Ambrose gave a disbelieving snort. “You do not possess a social climbing bone in your body, so forgive me, Willow, if I remain unconvinced.”
“That’s not entirely true,” she denied. “Every woman possesses at least one such bone.”
“Mm, then why, since gaining the coveted title, have you shown little care or interest in the responsibilities that come with it?
“I have not!”
“Sneaking out in the dead of night?”
She scoffed. “That doesn’t precisely unmake me a duchess. And what of your misbehavior?”
“Mine?” The thought was laughable.
“Your desire to control everyoneincludingyour servants.”
“Hardly misbehavior.”
“You find pleasure in punishing others.”
“I assure you, I find no pleasure in punishing anyone.”
“You threatened to deny my desires if I broke your rules,” she accused.
“You desire me?” His lips cracked in a wolfish grin.
“I do not,” she scoffed.
“Interesting to bring up that particular moment. No mention of toast this time?” Ambrose murmured. “Ah. Is that it then? You married me because you hold a torch for me?”
“Of course not!”
“Me thinks my duchess doth protest too much.”
“I married you to save my family from scandal, that’s that,” she replied hotly.
His gaze flicked to the sheet of papers lying untouched on her desk. “Still haven’t been tempted to read them?”
She cast him an unimpressed glower. “I’m quite happy ignoring them, I assure you. In fact, I should just rip them up.”
“Destroying a piece of paper does not destroy the weight of its content. Or change the man who wrote it.”
She ignored him and sauntered over to the rules, snatching them up. With a defiant glare, she crossed over to the fire.
Ambrose arched a single brow.
“I do not wish to change you, but neither do I want to live by a set of rules copied down on paper.”
“You aren’t living by them,” Ambrose pointed out.
“They exist.”
“That they do.”
“And as such, burning them will make me feel infinitely better,” she said and tossed the papers into the fire.
Ambrose folded his arms over his chest.
The sheets curled and burst into flames, the charred paper crumpling in ashes. She turned to him, her chin lifted high, eyes flashing with challenge. Christ, he wanted to kiss her.
