Page 12
A ilis stared out the window of the duke’s bedchamber the following morning and shook her head in dismay. The blizzard was still going strong for a third day, and there was no sign of its clearing. Not that she minded being stranded with the duke, for she enjoyed his company immensely.
When would she ever get the chance to know him better?
Nor was she worried about her uncle. The duke had sent young Leo Curtis to advise the vicar that she was safely ensconced at Langford Hall and would remain here until the storm passed.
Leo’s mother happened to be the vicarage cook, laundress, and housekeeper all in one, and would see to the vicar’s meals and any household chores.
The Curtis family lived next door to the vicarage, so Ailis knew her uncle would not be abandoned. Leo was there to lend assistance if additional hands were needed.
“You’re finally awake.” The duke’s deep voice slid over her like warm cream.
She turned to the doorway where he stood staring at her. “I slept late again, but I had a decent night’s sleep,” she assured him in response to the questioning arch of his eyebrow. “In truth, I have been doing little other than resting and reading these past three days.”
He strode to her side and followed her gaze out the window. “I’m surprised it hasn’t stopped yet.”
“It is most unusual,” she agreed, trying to remain composed while he stood so close to her. This was hard to do. Her heart was aflutter and her nose was twitching because she wanted to put her face to his freshly shaven jaw and inhale the delicious scent of lather and sandalwood on his skin.
To make matters worse, the duke had not bothered to wear a jacket, waistcoat, or cravat this morning, appearing before her dressed in a crisp white shirt of durable linen, buff breeches that molded to his long, powerful legs, and Hessian-style riding boots.
The shirt seemed to go on for miles across his broad chest and shoulders, and down the rippling length of his muscled arms.
Honestly, was this fair? He was beyond forty now, even graying at the temples. How could he still look this good?
He gave her a knowing smirk and smiled. “You’re looking quite lovely this morning, Temple.”
She glanced down at herself and groaned.
He was jesting, of course. She had on the same bright red stockings that were too big for her feet and that came to a point at the end so that they looked like elf stockings. For this reason, she had refused to wear the matching red cap for her hair that Mrs. Fitch had also found in storage.
She absolutely refused to look like an elf.
It was bad enough she had to wear his big black woolen robe that was enormous for her body, and a plaid shawl whose colors clashed with everything else she was wearing. Not to mention, her arm was in a sling.
“Yes, I’m sure I am irresistible,” she said dryly.
“You are.” He tucked a finger under her chin. “I meant it.”
“I would be tossed into an asylum if I walked out looking this way.”
“Yes, that is also true,” he said with a grin.
“By the way, your gown is dry and the mud stains have been washed out of it. Your stockings, too. I also took the liberty of having your boots polished. One of the maids will bring everything up to you shortly. However, I think you ought to wait another few days before you dress.”
“But I ought to go home as soon as the snowstorm clears.”
“I’d like you to stay on for a few more days, Ailis. I want to start you on some very light movement exercises, nothing strenuous because your shoulder is going to take another month or two to properly heal. It won’t fully mend for another six months.”
She stared back at him in dismay. “That long?”
He nodded. “You’ll also need to keep the arm in a sling for another week or two. Believe me, you’ll howl in pain if you attempt to go without it any sooner.”
She let out a deflated sigh.
“However, a little exercise is important. I’ve noticed that keeping the blood flowing through your limbs helps to heal a dislocated shoulder faster and reduces the pain.”
“Whatever you think best,” she said, offering no protest. “I would have spent these past days in agony had you not known how to fix my shoulder. So I am in your debt and willingly remain in your capable hands.”
“Good.” He gave a nod of satisfaction. “Glad to be of help. Have you had your breakfast yet?”
She glanced at the side table that had nothing on it but a few of those gossip rags she had read the night before. “No, Martha went downstairs a few minutes ago to put a plate together for me. Have you eaten yet?”
“No, I’ve spent the better part of this morning checking on my horses and making certain my grooms are all right in their quarters above the stable.”
She glanced out the window at the heavily falling snow. “Are the men not too cold?”
“They claim they are fine with their braziers for warmth. They’ll head to the kitchen if the weather gets to be too much for them.
Most have sense enough to avoid frostbite, but some of those fellows are stubborn and would rather sleep in the cold with the horses rather than come inside with the rest of the staff. ”
“How are the horses faring? You have some prize thoroughbreds stabled here.”
“They’re managing quite well. The grooms have cleared off much of the paddock area to allow the horses to walk around. We’ll see about having them actually run through their paces once the snowfall begins to ease.”
“I’m glad they are all safe, grooms and horses.”
“Yes, it is quite dangerous outside.”
“Are you here because you intend to join me for breakfast?”
“Yes, if you don’t mind.”
She nodded. “I have nothing else pressing, as must be obvious. I would be honored to have you join me.”
In truth, she was ecstatic.
However, she tried to school her features in order not to appear too obvious.
To her dismay, he tossed her another knowing grin. “Admit it, Temple. You enjoy my company.”
How was this man able to recognize her every feeling and expression?
“You are useful to have around,” she said with a casual air, “since I can do nothing with a busted shoulder and am quite bored.”
He gave her chin a light tweak. “As I am enjoying your company,” he said with surprising earnestness.
Ailis doubted this reclusive duke was as eager for her company as she was for his. She hardly considered herself scintillating, since she had been groggy and dazed for most of these past few days.
He left her side to start rifling through his wardrobe, and had just taken out a waistcoat for himself when Martha lumbered back in with a tray in hand. “Your Grace, I wondered whether you would join Miss Temple.”
“I shall. Do you mind bringing up a plate for me? And some coffee, too.”
“At once, Your Grace.” She set Ailis’s breakfast on the small table and then scurried off again.
He shrugged into his waistcoat, a brown leather and wool vest designed more for a day of field work than gentlemanly elegance. “Well, Temple. What do you think?”
She eyed him curiously. “What do I think of your waistcoat?”
“No, of our next kiss. Number three, to be precise. Are you ready for it?”
Her mouth gaped open.
He tucked a finger under her chin and nudged it upward to close her mouth. “Ah, and your eyes are growing wide again. Too soon for you?”
“No, it’s just… I look a mess. How can you want to kiss me now?”
He cast her an indulgent smile. “It is only your lips that matter, and they look rosy and sweet.”
“They do?” She gave them a nervous lick.
“Yes, Temple.” He stepped closer and gently cupped her cheek. “Unless you do not want me to—”
“Oh, I do. The charity business, you know. And we are only at three kisses if you count this upcoming one, and still have seven more to go after this.”
He smiled. “Close your eyes, love.”
She squeezed them tightly shut.
The butterflies in her stomach were in a wild flutter and she felt heat rush into her cheeks. She wanted the kiss, but was disconcerted because she hadn’t expected him to kiss her before breakfast.
Was this something usually done?
He chuckled. “You will burst veins in your eyeballs if you do not ease up. Try to relax. And do not pinch your lips together so fiercely, either.”
He ran his thumb lightly along the line of her jaw, and then gently along her lower lip.
Oh, heavens.
“Breathe, Temple.”
She let out a gust of air.
“That’s better,” he murmured with a chuckle, leaning in closer so that she felt the heat of his body and the strength pulsating from it.
His breath was warm against her lips.
In the next moment, he captured her mouth in a scorching kiss, the pressure gloriously deep and fiery.
Heavens, heavens, heavens.
That man’s mouth was a dangerous weapon. Sinfully effective.
He drew her up against the hard wall of his chest and held her in his protective embrace, all the while careful to avoid knocking into her sling.
When she remained unsteady, her legs turning to water so they could no longer hold her up, he wrapped his big hands around her and drew her even closer.
She could no longer tell where her body ended and his began, for they were melting into each other.
She had never felt so secure, so safe in anyone’s arms, and yet still wildly out of balance because of their intimacy and the heat ignited between them.
This had nothing to do with her shoulder, still healing and tender. This was all about her heart.
Did the man have to kiss her with such exquisite ardor? Did he put such heat into all his kisses? Melt every woman he touched?
He was a rake, after all.
However, she was a novice and could not possibly hold any significance for him.
She accepted their blazing kiss for what it was, a torch that would quickly die out, and allowed herself to revel in the pleasure of the moment.
His tongue probed against the seam of her lips and nudged them apart.
She held on to him, closing her hand over the bulging muscle of his upper arm to steady herself, but she could not get her fingers even halfway around its circumference.
Table of Contents
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- Page 11
- Page 12 (Reading here)
- Page 13
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- Page 19
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- Page 26
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- Page 39