Page 18 of The Duke’s Second Bride (Regency Second Chances #4)

I t was very early in the morning when Christian left.

This was one responsibility he did not miss about being home on the country estate—he had to check on his tenants. Whether he liked it or not, however, it needed to get done, and he supposed it was better to get it over with earlier in the day, rather than later.

And, of course, it had the immediate benefit of allowing him to avoid his new wife.

All night, he had slept fitfully. When he was awake, he racked his brain all morning and early afternoon to figure out what on Earth had come over him.

He was not some animal in heat, or some lust-addled adolescent.

He was a grown man, with an estate, a family, and a title, and he had always demonstrated the restraint, self-control, and self-respect that came with having all of those things.

He was a member of polite society. He had never had any trouble acting like it.

Not before Ava, anyway.

What was it about her that drove him so wild, he wondered? It boggled the mind.

She was beautiful, of course. Perhaps it was only natural that he should react this way, after so many years without a wife. In any case, he would do better the next time.

Hopefully, there would not be a next time. He would have to get it into her head that he meant it when he said he did not expect anything of her.

Whether he wanted her was obviously a different question. But that was not what mattered. He had promised to treat her with respect, and he would.

When he got home, he made an immediate beeline for his study.

There was no sign of Ava throughout the house, which was good; hopefully, she was out exploring the property somewhere, and he would not have to deal with the inevitably awkward conversation that would occur when they were face-to-face.

If he played his cards right, maybe he wouldn’t have to see her at all until dinnertime, when Luke would be there and such a conversation would be impossible.

They would have to have the conversation at some point. He couldn’t spend an entire lifetime avoiding any sort of privacy with Ava, he knew. But by God, he certainly meant to try.

Entering his study brought no small amount of relief. He closed his eyes, letting out a sigh as he began to lower himself into his favorite chair—and immediately sprang back up when the movement was met with a high-pitched yowling sound.

“What on Earth?” he hissed, and his hiss was matched by a similar sound from the mass of ginger fur that had taken up residence on his chair.

For a moment, Christian was so bewildered that he could do nothing but stare in complete and utter shock. The ginger mass curled up there with complete confidence, as though it owned the place.

Was it some sort of ball of wool? Or one of Luke’s toys? Was he dreaming entirely?

He reached out to move it. But as soon as he did, he regretted it, as the little bundle of fluff hissed at him again. He took a step back.

“Oh! Pudding! I’m so sorry,” came a voice from behind him.

Ava rushed forth, a blur of honey blonde hair and the blue fabric of her dress, and scooped up the threatening ginger fur-ball.

“How did that creature get here?” Christian exclaimed.

“This is Pudding,” Ava said, stroking the creature in question until it had ceased its distressed meows—for it was, indeed, a cat—and turned instead to contented purring. “I had him brought over from my old estate. He is mine. I’ve had him a year, now.”

“I …” He took a deep breath. “I was not aware you had a cat.”

“Well, we did not exactly have much time to get to know each other before our wedding,” Ava said, continuing to pet Pudding.

While the cat had distinctly relaxed in its mistress’s arms, it still glared at Christian as though he had tried to murder it.

Which he supposed he had, almost sitting on it, but that was an accident, so it wasn’t quite fair of the cat to be looking at him with that much animosity in its eyes.

“Yes,” he said. “Well. I am now. Aware, I mean.” Then, to himself, he muttered, “Though I’d have preferred to know about the feral beast before it infiltrated my home.”

“Feral beast? Pudding, a feral beast?” Ava asked with a scoff.

He decided not to let the moment pass. “You ought to have told me in advance that you’d bring an animal with you to the house,” he said.

“Would that have changed anything?” she challenged him.

He laughed bitterly, a single, stark sound. “What?” he asked.

“If you knew I had a cat, would that have been the thing that dissuaded you from your idea to marry within the week?” she elaborated. “Leave Luke alone, and me under Dunfair’s control?’

“Of course not,” he said.

“Then I see not what difference it makes,” she said, chin raised in that stubborn expression he was beginning to grow so familiar with.

God, he wanted to kiss that expression off her face—no, he was supposed to be erasing thoughts like that!

“Fine,” he said. “I suppose it makes no difference at all.”

“So that cat stays,” she said.

Christian could only grunt back in response.

He had a distinct feeling that if he were to say no, then she would immediately leave and take the cat with her.

Which, given the way they were bickering every time they were left alone in a room together, wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

It would certainly save him a lot of hassle and headaches in the days, weeks, and years to come.

A whole lifetime of this—what joy, he thought bitterly.

“Good,” Ava said.

“Good,” Christian matched her.

“Good,” she repeated. The air between them still felt charged. Neither one of them had acknowledged the kiss. Perhaps he should. But before he got the chance, she continued, “Where were you this morning?”

He raised a brow. “And why do you care to know?”

She let out a huff of frustration. “Do you always intend to answer my questions with more questions?” she asked. “I am not trying to pry. But I am your wife, now, and lady of the house.”

“We agreed that you are to care for Luke,” he said.

“Yes,” she agreed, “but he does not always need my care. Indeed, he is often occupied with his nurse, or his physician, or one of his tutors. In the many hours when my time is free, I see no reason why I should not help you.”

Christian’s mouth was suddenly dry. “Help me?” he repeated.

“With the estate,” she said. “I am adept at balancing ledgers and organizing staff. I imagine you have borne the brunt of managing the estate on your own for a while now, but I can help. You shouldn’t have to worry about everything on your own.”

Christian was so shocked, he could have fallen over.

When was the last time someone told him he didn’t have to worry about managing the estate on his own?

From the time he was a child, his parents had raised him with expectations of the duties he owed, and that was before he had inherited his current title and position.

Since his cousin’s death and his sudden inheritance, there had been an extremely sharp learning curve that he had been forced to navigate more or less on his own, and that was after he had just barely figured out how to manage raising Luke without his mother there.

And now this woman, whom he had barely known a month, was offering to relieve him of some of the burden? And so casually, as though she didn’t know or understand how much it could possibly mean to him.

“I was checking up on the tenants,” he said slowly, once he trusted himself not to trip over his words.

God, at this rate, he would have more difficulty speaking than Luke. At least Luke’s speech seemed to improve in Ava’s presence, rather than deteriorate.

“It is one of the many responsibilities of the estate.”

She nodded. “I see. I should like to see them some day,” she said.

“So long as your small beast doesn’t insist on coming along,” he said, nodding at the cat.

Ava clearly was unsure of whether to take this as a joke or an insult—to his relief, though, she ended up chuckling.

“ Pudding ,” she corrected. “And he is hardly a beast. I imagine you have many animals on the estate.”

“Yes, but none so intent on stealing my chair,” he said. “Another week, and I suppose I shall be banned from my office entirely.”

That earned him another laugh from her. The rare moment of levity lit up her face as though she were glowing from within, evoking the memory of how the candlelight had danced across her features the night before.

The night of their kiss. The mere memory made Christian suddenly hyper aware of their proximity.

He could not help himself. He stepped forward.

At the movement, Pudding jumped from Ava’s arms to the floor, padding cheerfully out of the room.

Neither Ava nor Christian noticed. In this moment, they only had eyes for each other. Each step he took was matched by one of her own, until they were nearly close enough to kiss again. She tilted her face up.

He was about to reach up, when?—

“Luke is done with his morning lessons, Your Grace,” came a voice from the doorway.

It was Miss Grant. The two of them stumbled away from each other, as though they had been caught in the most compromising of positions, rather than just having a reasonable conversation.

Looking over at the housekeeper, he saw that she had gathered up Pudding in her arms. “And I believe your cat was looking for you.”

“Ah. Yes. Thank you, Miss Grant,” Ava said, taking the cat gratefully. It happily curled up back in her arms. “I shall go keep Luke company. He has not yet met Pudding, but I think they shall get along swimmingly.”

She walked towards the door. In the doorway, she stopped and turned. Her face was still flushed, looking as warm as Christian felt, and his heart skipped a beat as those shining hazel eyes locked with his.

“Assuming I have your permission to introduce the boy to my small beast, husband?” she said cooly.

The tension half broke. Christian couldn’t help but smirk, tilting his head to acknowledge he had understood the joke. “Yes, wife. You have my blessing.”

“Very good.” She gave a little mock curtsy and raised one of Pudding’s paws as though the cat was waving goodbye, and then left the room.

Christian let out a long breath and sank down into his chair, flinching slightly, even though it was obviously empty now.

What was Ava doing to him?