Page 14 of A Duke Of Her Own

He laced his fingers through hers, his thumb stroking across her palm. Her throat tight with emotions, she held his hands as they went inside his cottage. One more night, she promised herself, and then she would leave for London and resolve never to see him again.

CHAPTER7

Francie’s stray strands of hair had somehow made their way into Alexander’s mouth. With a smile, he delicately removed the few errant locks, taking care not to wake her as he gently shifted her off his shoulders. Despite his caution, she stirred, muttering a vague protest as though aggrieved by the disruption of her peaceful slumber.

For a long moment, Alexander found himself captivated by her sleeping form. His heart pounded in his chest, fueled by an awareness so intense it felt almost like physical heat. It was her, and the realization washed over him with the finality of an irrefutable truth—it could be no one else.

Sure, there were mysteries yet to unravel, depths of personality and layers of experience that they had yet to explore in one another. But as he watched her sleep, he was consumed by a comforting thought—they had an entire lifetime ahead to dig deep, to learn, to challenge, and to grow together with shared moments of passion and laughter. He would not allow her to leave without knowing his feelings and his family’s background. Perhaps then she would open up to him about the sadness in her eyes.

The distant clatter of carriage wheels grew increasingly louder, causing Alexander to frown. He wasn’t expecting any visitors, and only a select few—primarily his family—were privy to the fact that he occasionally sought refuge in this secluded cottage to escape the clamor and demands of his daily life.

Careful not to disturb Francie, who lay entangled in the sheets, her face a portrait of serene sleep, Alexander eased himself out of the bed. He swiftly pulled on his trousers and moved stealthily, his feet making minimal contact with the wooden floor as he approached the front door of his rustic hideaway.

As he opened the door, he was greeted by the sight of a grand carriage parked just beyond the threshold. The vehicle bore his family’s emblem, and a team of four strong horses stood at the ready, their breath visible in the cool air. Almost immediately, his brother descended from the carriage, alighting onto the ground with an air of urgency.

The unexpected arrival of his brother signaled that something significant was afoot. While part of him was annoyed at the intrusion into this time with Francie, another part couldn’t help but feel a surge of curiosity and concern. What could be so important as to warrant such an abrupt visit? Thankfully, his brother did not seem overly worried.

Alexander closed the door. “What are you doing here, James? Is all well with Mother and Henrietta?”

His brother arched a brow and pointedly stared at the door Alexander closed behind him. Of course, he would not allow his brother inside the cottage, especially when Francie still deeply slept, exhausted from their night of glorious excess. His brother reached into a satchel he carried on his shoulder and removed a folded piece of paper. He came forward and held them out to Alexander.

“What is this?”

“The report you wanted on Lady Francie Walcott.”

Alexander stiffened. “Lady?”

“Yes,” his brother said tightly. “A lady.”

Naturally, Alexander should have recognized that she was a lady. It had been evident in the very fabric of her behavior. Her manners were impeccable, each gesture executed with a grace that spoke volumes. And then there was her walk—a unique blend of poise and sensuality that commanded his attention without demanding it.

Silver eyes, very much like his own, narrowed. “I thought it a mere slip when you asked for information on Miss Francie Walcott. She is the daughter of an earl. Her brother is the current Earl of Blade.”

Alexander looked behind him at the door. She was the daughter of an earl. A wide smile touched his mouth.

“Do not think it,” his younger brother warned. “There is a reason I traveled to meet you instead of waiting for you to come to town and see this report. The lady is not suitable!”

“You do not know what I think in regard to her,” he said icily. “Do not be presumptuous.”

“I will damn well be presumptuous. Clearly, you did not re-read the letter you sent. You extolled her beauty and wit and smiles for the entire damn page. I had to hasten here to warn you that her reputation is sullied beyond repair, and you cannot associate with such a lady.”

A cold feeling lodged inside his chest. “What did you say?”

“She is damn well ruined. She left a huge scandal in town and—”

A sound from beyond the door froze him and cut off James’s words.

“Someone is here?” James said, his expression a mask of astonishment. “This cottage is your treasured space. You have never taken anyone here …”

“Wait here,” Alexander commanded, opened the door, and went inside.

His lover stood there, her bare toes curled onto the wooden floor. Francie’s lips were delightfully swollen from his kisses, and her dress seemed as if it was hastily put on.

“You are awake,” he said gruffly.

“Yes. Who were you speaking with just now?”

Alexander stilled and stared at her. Her eyes were wide and had a vulnerable and heartbreaking look. They also burned with unshed tears and mistrust.Bloody hell. She heard their conversation. Alexander raked his fingers through his hair. “It is my brother, James. Francie—”