A peal of laughter pierced the air, and Edmond lifted his head. He tried to convince himself to remain planted behind the oak desk in his study, but he was indelibly drawn to the sound of such joy. Rosette Park had been so silent and weary, as if it had been waiting for the right moment to come alive. It had slowly done so in the two weeks since he had brought home his new duchess. His daughters seemed more relaxed, fresh roses and flowers had appeared to decorate the house, dinners seemed more varied and frivolous, and even their servants seemed more content. His mother had taken a shine to Adel, and Lady Harriet had even gone as far as to congratulate him on making a fine match. Shaking his head in bemusement, he pushed himself up from the high wing-backed chair and strolled to stand in front of the window that gave him a clear view of his wife and children.
Since their late night meeting by the lake, Adel had slowly been fascinating Edmond, so much so that now he couldn’t tear his gaze from her. Wisps of hair escaped her topknot and framed her lovely features. She ran with the children, her form lithe and graceful. When not beset with the society of the polite world, as she had been for the past several days, Adeline behaved without the decorum of a duchess, and his children seemed to be falling in love with her for it. Her shout of laughter rang joyously in the air, and against his inclination Edmond moved even closer to the windows.
What were they doing?
He blinked when his duchess darted around a thicket of bushes and fell on her stomach. In the grass. She came up on her knees and peeked through the thicket, and his gaze dropped to her rounded derriere. Hell. She was arched just right. He could see himself loving her in that exact position. He could taste her sighs, hear her whimpers, and feel her wetness… He bit back a groan.
She clasped one of her hands over her mouth as if to prevent laughter, and Edmond found himself holding his breath, hoping she would succeed in hiding her merriment, and not reveal her position.
He was a damn fool, standing there, watching her, waiting for a smile…a laugh…a glance in his direction, instead of tending to his untold responsibilities. A dukedom did not operate by itself despite what others believed, but his feet remained rooted. Staying away from her had been sheer hell. They dined every night, and had even played chess the evening before because of the rains, but then they had taken to their separate chambers. Every night she inspired dreams of tangled sweaty limbs, twisted sheets, and heated cries. But it was more than lust. He liked her, truly liked everything about her, her wit and vivacity, and her strength in the face of his reserve. A reserve he desperately wanted to shed, and had no notion where to start.
It did not escape him that they were not legally bound until he consummated their union. He’d almost entered her chambers last night. He’d thought to be perfunctory and quick, so that part was done. But he’d been unable to do it, remembering the flush of passion when he’d kissed her. She deserved more, yet the thought of such intimacy and where it could lead…
“Your Grace?”
He glanced at Mr. Dobson, his secretary. Edmond had forgotten the man was in the room, awaiting his dictation. A young and upcoming barrister, Edmond had hired Mr. Dobson for his political leanings and his keen intelligence. They had been going through several motions together, and he a
ssisted with writing his speeches for the House of Lords.
Bloody rotten hell.
The man must think he had taken leave of his senses.
“We will resume in an hour.”
Mr. Dobson frowned but nodded in agreement and departed from the room.
Another peal of laughter tore through the air, and Sarah came barreling around the corner, shouting some nonsense Edmond was unable to ascertain. He watched them play, a need rising in him to join them. He glanced at the mountain of paperwork he had to wade through, mainly sent by his estate managers. There were many letters to be answered, his stewards had informed him there were repairs required at Kellwich Castle. Ditches needed to be dug on his Suffolk estate and drainage needed to be installed. He would be lucky if he had time to write the article he had hoped to on providing training and education for those orphans who were dependent on parish relief for their nurture.
Both girls spied Adel, and with rousing shrieks, they launched themselves at her. They were all acting like hoydens and Edmond never wanted them to stop. The laughter dwindled, and his duchess said something to the girls. They nodded vigorously, and his heart clenched when she brushed a fingertip over Sarah’s cheek with a tender smile.
Only God could have conspired to drop a young lady who was kind and patient with his daughters into his lap. There was no other explanation. He watched in fascination, almost pressing his nose to the glass pane, as his girls tipped their heads back and chortled. How did Adel accomplish such a feat?
After Maryann’s death he had lost a part of himself, sinking into a roaring drunken stupor for weeks, then an icy distance to protect himself from the ache. When he had resurfaced, it was as if his daughters did not know him, and he had been at loss as how to reconnect. He’d abandoned them in their grief, and he despised himself for it. How had his duchess achieved so effortlessly what he had been trying to for months?
His girls went in one direction, and Adel stood, brushing grass from her gown, and walked hurriedly inside. He lost sight of her and rocked back on his heels. Unable to help himself, he exited his study, and spied her heading down the corridor, toward the library. He followed, cursing himself for the need to see her face up close, to smell her, to even see a glimpse of the smiles she had bestowed on his daughters.
He was merrily leading himself to his own downfall, and he was unable to stop it.
…
Adel slipped into the library, the most glorious room in all of Rosette Park in her opinion. Mahogany bookcases lined the wall and rose beyond the second floor extending to the vaulted ceiling. There was even a ladder to climb to fetch and return books, and there was a staircase for the higher levels. She bent down and randomly selected a volume, caressing the leather binding with loving care.
The door opened, and she did not need to look to know it was Edmond who entered. Awareness hummed through her veins, and predictably, her heartbeat quickened.
“You spend a few hours every day in here. Do you enjoy reading?”
Without lifting her head she responded, “Quite so. I find there is no better pastime. Your library is wondrous, Edmond.”
“Our library,” he said gruffly.
At that, she faced him. He leaned against the doorjamb, looking very casual and disheveled, yet so powerfully handsome her breath caught. How she wished to glide her fingers through his hair and pull his lips to her. “You have been riding?”
“Earlier.”
She nodded, at loss of what to say further, but very happy he had sought her company. Many of their chance meetings this past week as she settled into Rosette Park and received a few neighbours’ calls, had been filled with very banal and inane pleasantries. Very much like their time by the pond, but she yearned for something a bit deeper. Adel felt he kept their conversation light so as to maintain the wall of friendship he had erected. While she liked the idea of being his friend, she also wanted to be his wife, and it seemed he had no notion of that happening anytime soon. She would have to be much bolder with the unfathomable man. She didn’t like that everything she was learning about him was through his mother and even at times through his girls.
He strolled farther into the room. “Riding is one of my favored pastimes. To feel the wind on my face as I leave the cares of the world behind for several minutes…”