Page 6 of The One With the Wayward Duke (The One With the Wanton Woman #5)

F REYA WAS SURE HER cheeks were back to their normal color, but her insides were still heated several degrees higher than what they should be.

If only her sisters could see her now, what would they think?

Would Audra and Amelia encourage or scold her?

Alice and Florence would laugh at her while blushing.

Would Phyllis be too blindly in love to notice?

Who was she kidding, her actions were far too scandalous for anyone to miss.

But it didn’t matter if they would chastise or commend her, she wished she could talk to even one of them about her feelings. They were always there for her, and now she was alone. She had to make all of her choices by herself. And she didn’t feel like she was making very good ones.

That dream that she had had in the carriage. Her cheeks would surely incinerate if she thought of it again. But how could she think of anything else? Once her arm had innocuously grazed the bulge in his breeches, her entire body had turned into one of the Finnish saunas she had read about.

God, the things she wanted to do to him.

Her dream had served its purpose, for in it, she was straddling him with her head thrown back and his head in between her breasts.

It was a replication of one of the poses from that pink book, The One With the Wanton Woman .

And oh, the sensations made her feel wanton.

In her dream, she rode him hard. Even though she had no experience with a man, she knew the book, and she knew her hand.

Her body knew what it meant to find relief.

And yes, in her dream she had found release when they came together, thanking the divine.

But there was no lingering relief in this moment. Only body-throbbing desire mixed with a few ounces of vexation.

How could she be so blithe about her actions in the carriage?

Curling up onto his lap as if she were a cat and he were her owner?

She had never in her life done such a thing.

Yes, her sisters were close and she would have rested her head on any one of their shoulders.

But her actions were scandalous. She couldn’t even blame it on the cold, for it had nothing to do with temperature and only to do with comfort. There was something about him…

The moment they had met, she had felt something about him.

Something safe. Something thrilling. Something that drew her in toward him, like she couldn’t stay away.

Well, apparently she couldn’t. Their bodies had some kind of magnetic pull that would take effort to resist. And resist him she would. Now that her dream was over.

He was a friend of Frank’s, but other than that, she knew nothing about him. What even was his name? She hadn’t asked yet because she wasn’t sure she wanted to share hers in return. As a matter of fact, she was undecided as to whether she would give him a fake moniker or not.

The magnetic man was an anomaly though. He put on airs of being cold, but she instinctively knew that he had a kind heart.

He had rescued her after all. And those eyes…

he had mahogany colored eyes. Warm. Inviting.

But it felt more like he was a comfortable old settee that no one could sit on. Except her.

Something was shut down within him. But then he had to reiterate to her to listen to her heart.

Damn it, that’s what she was trying to do.

Herman and her had been close. They had confessed their love for each other at some point, but he was a solicitor.

Not a gentleman. The aunts (especially Wanda) that had raised her in place of her parents would never forbid her to marry him, but there was a subtle questioning of the arrangement.

At the time, Freya had yielded to her family and decided to pursue someone else.

When she had left Herman, he told her that he would wait for her because he loved her that much.

His words hadn’t meant as much to her as she thought they should.

Then she had found Frank almost immediately, and somehow she had been swept away in his charm.

Both families were happy, she was happy—enough.

And then the wedding was upon them both.

It was a whirlwind and happened too quickly.

Love didn’t work that way. It was too fast. But her and Herman, that had been a slow build with a solid foundation. Surely, that was love.

Love. That’s what she was trying to listen to right now, and that’s why she had to find Herman.

As she walked toward the front entrance of The Man Trap, she hoped he would be there. It was a weekend afternoon, and he had told her that he often spent time there.

Just as she was about to take a step, a beggar-woman walked in front of her.

It would seem if on any day Freya were to cross paths with this woman, she would be having a more difficult time than Freya.

That kind of perspective was helpful. Freya would always have food on the table and a shelter for her head.

The woman in front of her struggled to meet her most basic needs.

That would always be a more desperate feeling than anything Freya would feel.

The sight yanked on Freya’s heart much the way an impatient amateur might attempt to play a stringed instrument, desperate for sound but unsure of how to produce it.

Freya wanted to help, but given her current circumstances, she felt helpless.

This resembled, far too closely, her plight with the meditation cabins.

She felt an unparalleled urge to help Phyllis with the cabins in some capacity, but how?

Looking at the beggar-woman again, Freya appreciated that there was a small way she could offer some provision.

Without even being asked by her Freya said, “I wish I had some coin to give you.”

The tender look in the woman’s eyes thanked her for seeing her and treating her like a person. “May I at least give you something?”

“You’re a dear,” the woman said.

“Please take my shawl.”

The woman’s eyes widened and her hands shook in refusal.

“Please,” Freya urged, “You need it. And if you don’t, you can sell it.”

“Thank you,” the woman graciously took the shawl and wrapped it around her shoulders. With a smile she took off.

That felt good. That was a feeling worth chasing. If Freya could find more ways to help put a smile on women’s faces, she knew in her heart that would fill a gap.

Taking a few steps to go in, she almost forgot about her shadow.

She glanced behind her to see if the man was still following her.

Of course he was. He was just that kind.

But the emotion she caught in his eyes almost threw her off balance.

He had the most inquisitive look. Written on his face, there was both disbelief and stupor to such an extent she felt a bit sheepish.

When he moved to close the distance between them, the air grew heavy between them, and it was hard for her to inhale deeply.

She had just spent the better part of their journey wrapped around his body, imagining delectable intimacy, so surely the proximity between them now was not more intimate than that.

Yet…she had the distinct feeling that something had shifted in his mind.

The way he was looking at her…less like he wanted to kiss her, and more like he wanted to know her… it was unnerving.

“You’re a better person than I.” His gravelly voice caught her unaware with the admiration it held.

She did not feel like a person to be admired.

She had, after all, just left a man at the altar.

Offering one woman her shawl didn’t make up for it.

Nothing would. She could only trust that time would show Frank that they weren’t meant to be together.

Certainly, she did not feel good about herself for running from him.

But wasn’t it right to follow her heart?

She should have recognized the truth earlier, but she hadn’t.

On the morning of the wedding, all she knew without a doubt was that she wanted love. She deserved love, didn’t she?

All the same, Freya didn’t want her travel companion thinking of her better than he ought. “I wouldn’t say that.”

“I would.” He said it with such aplomb that she didn’t want to argue with him. There was enough on her plate to sort through.

It was time to go into the tavern and face…

love? She hoped she was ready. She wanted so desperately to find her true love, and she only hoped it wasn’t too late for her and Herman.

And also, she hoped she wasn’t wrong about him.

Her heart was churning butter inside of her, she was so anxious with all the factors that needed to go right.

Oddly, the only thing that felt right in this moment was his gentle hand on her lower back, leading her into the tavern looking for love.