Page 19 of The Duke’s Second Bride (Regency Second Chances #4)

A va left Christian’s office feeling more than a little short of breath. She couldn’t help but be slightly annoyed at Miss Grant’s interruption, though she knew it was probably for the best.

After all, what was she hoping would happen if they hadn’t been walked in on? Was she hoping that they would kiss?

If that were to happen, it would likely only last a moment before he rejected her again.

The memory of last night still stung more than she would have liked to admit. While she was relieved he had not expected anything from her, and respected him for being a man of his word, her relief was accompanied by more than a little disappointment.

It had been, after all, quite a good kiss.

But perhaps not so for the duke? Had she done something he had disliked? Or did he truly find her so unattractive that he did not want her, even when she came to his room on her own, perfectly willing?

She could not pretend to understand him even a little. After he had told her to leave—so suddenly, after that most excellent kiss—she had retreated to her own bedroom, feeling embarrassed and more than a little wanting.

She had not been with a man since William, and their time in the bedroom had been lacking even in the earliest days of their marriage.

And later, of course, William had all but stopped coming to her bed at night.

He grew accustomed to stepping out of the house, taking his pleasure elsewhere, and Ava had learned quickly to turn a blind eye.

Indeed, it had been so long, she had not realized she could feel any kind of desire, especially so much as this. Christian was inspired by her feelings, which were newer and more ravenous than any kind of longing she had known in the past.

In some ways, she could not have been luckier—of all the men in the world to lust after, surely her husband was the best possible choice. However, unluckily, he did not seem to want her.

She shook off these thoughts as Miss Grant brought her to the library, where Luke sat in a comfortable-looking chair with his sketchpad on his lap.

He looked up, and his face immediately brightened when he saw her—and brightened even more when he saw Pudding in her arms. She could not help but smile at the look of excitement on his face.

Luke reminded her so much of herself as a child, before her parents had disapproved of her interest in nature and animals, and had sent her to the city to learn how to comport herself like a proper and well-raised young lady.

“Ava!” Luke cried out, putting his sketchbook aside to rise and cross to her. He clearly wanted to embrace her, but held back as he eyed Pudding carefully. “Is this a n-n-new cat? I-i-is it yours?”

“This is Pudding. Would you like to hold him? He is quite friendly. You will just have to be gentle.”

He nodded eagerly. She gestured for him to go sit back in the chair. When he did so, she offered him Pudding. The sweet ginger cat took to Luke immediately, gladly curling up in Luke’s lap. Within seconds, Pudding had begun purring.

“W-where did he c-c-ome f-from?” Luke asked.

“I brought him with me,” she said. “He has been mine for a year now, and now I suppose he is yours, too. And your father’s,” she added, almost as an afterthought.

Everything that was hers was Christian’s now, and everything that was his was hers. It was a strange thought to have about a man she had barely known a few weeks ago. She shook off the thought.

“Did you know,” she said, “that I found him with his head in a bowl of pudding?”

“Pudding?” Luke exclaimed, clearly delighted at the prospect. “And is that how he got his name?”

“Yes!” Ava confirmed, smiling at the young boy’s enthusiasm. “His head was completely soaked in it, all the way to his whiskers.”

Luke burst into giggles at that, scratching Pudding behind the ears. “He shall f-f-fit in nicely,” he declared. “There are quite a f-f-few animals on th-the estate. I th-th-think Pudding will like it here v-v-ery much.”

Ava smiled. “I think so too,” she said. “Do you have any favorite animals here? I remember from our time in London that you are fond of horses, like me.”

He nodded vigorously. “Yes,” he said, loudly and clearly. “There are st-st-stables around the b-back of the manor. We have s-s-so many horses. I do not yet have one of m-my own, though I would like one. I hope F-Father might let me get my own this year.”

She nodded. “I think I was about your age when I got my first horse,” she said. “It’s a good age for it. Have you spent much time in the stables?”

“Yes. The st-stable master is very kind. He lets me feed the horses and help groom them s-sometimes. My favorite horse is named Merry,” he informed her.

“She is a bay pony. She was a foal last year, and since then she has grown up to be very strong and lively. She would be a good pony for me to learn to ride on my own, if Father lets me. That’s what the stable master said. ”

Though he said this last part slowly and carefully, he made it through the entire thing without stuttering.

So, it only occurs when he is nervous , Ava thought, making a note.

She took care not to react as though she had noticed a change. “Merry is a wonderful name for a horse,” she said. “Did you pick out the name yourself?”

“Yes. The stable master let me, after she was born. We have lots of other animals on the grounds, too. There is a pond with ducks. Me and my governess bring bread to feed them sometimes when we go for walks. You may join us tomorrow, if you like,” he offered.

She smiled. “I would like that very much,” she agreed, making a mental note to ask Miss Grant to put aside some bread.

“There are also lots of games in the woods, deer, squirrels, and rabbits. The rabbits come out more in the springtime. And birds, too. They sing to us. Have you heard them yet?”

“No,” Ava said, “but only because I have yet to explore the grounds so much. You shall have to be my tour guide, you and your governess.”

He nodded solemnly. “We would be honored,” he said, with such seriousness that Ava had to fight not to laugh. He really was such a delightful child.

If I’d borne a son of my own , she thought, I hope he would have been something like Luke .

Just as she had the thought, she became aware of a movement in the door, past Luke’s head. Glancing up, she saw Christian there, watching them. But he only lingered a moment before leaving.

Ava hoped he had stayed long enough to hear Luke and how easily he spoke around her.

That night at dinner was much the same as the night before—the three of them sitting around the table. The food was much heartier this time around, now that the three of them were fully settled from their travels.

There was only one hiccup in the night. “F-father,” Luke had asked, in a nervous, trembling voice, “can P-p-pudding c-come eat with us?”

Christian looked at him with his brow knit, though more from confusion than from annoyance or anger. He supposed that to outsiders, it all looked the same.

“What?” he asked.

“P-pudding. Our cat,” Luke said, then looked nervously at Ava. “Ava’s cat, I m-m-mean.”

Ava smiled gently. “It’s all right to say our cat, Luke,” she assured him. “Pudding is a member of the household now?—”

“Except for the fact that he walks on four paws and licks himself clean,” Christian interrupted, his tone firm. “Which makes him an animal, unlike every other human member of this household.”

Luke frowned, but nodded. Ava, also frowning, didn’t seem ready to back down so easily.

“He isn’t asking if he can feed the cat with a fork,” she said, keeping her voice gentle, but with a prodding undertone. “Only if the cat can keep him company. He is fond of animals, as well you know by now.”

Christian bristled, not liking the implications of his unfitness as a father.

“And you should well know the way a proper household is run, since you seem so keen to lend a hand in running it. I am not trying to entirely throw the cat off the property—though, quite frankly, I would be well within my rights to?—”

“I know you are surely joking about that, husband,” Ava said sweetly, though through gritted teeth. “If Pudding were to leave, surely so would I.”

Christian sighed. “I am just saying?—”

“I-i-It’s p-perfectly all right, F-f-father,” Luke chimed in, clearly regretting having raised the question at all. “P-p-pudding c-can k-k-keep me c-company outside-outside of the dining r-r-room.”

It was the worst he had stuttered since their arrival back home.

Immediately, Ava and Christina both fell silent.

Christian caught eyes with her for a moment across the table and wondered if she was feeling the same way as he—the distinct realization and regret for turning such an innocent question into an opportunity to bicker, when they both knew the main thing the boy needed was to avoid stress and nervousness.

Ava cleared her throat. “You know, Luke,” she said, her voice returning to an entirely gentle one.

“I saw the most beautiful orchard as part of the grounds when I was looking out the window earlier. Can you tell me about it? What kinds of fruit grow there? I haven’t yet had a real moment to fully explore the grounds. ”

Luke nodded—carefully, though the spark of excitement had re-entered his eyes at the changing of topics.

He immediately launched into an enthusiastic description of the apple orchard, and all of the work that went into maintaining it, and how the main worker allowed him to help out with it.

He still stuttered, but less than before, and he seemed calm in a way that Christian realized more and more he seemed to reserve for Ava’s presence.

She was patient with him, asking follow-up questions slowly, and not making him feel as though he had to rush at all when he stuttered or forgot a word.

Once again, a wave of inadequacy washed over Christian.

How was it that this woman, this near stranger, now his wife, was able to sweep into their lives and immediately know what Luke needed?