Page 71 of His Enemy Duchess

Itshouldhave been the perfect place for Thomas to forget about Sophia, but with each measure of brandy, it grew more difficult.

“Not at all,” he replied curtly. “I am quite well.”

It is just that my wife ran off to my grandmother’s house, but I spent half a morning haring around like a madman, trying to find her because I had not yet received her note, and… I don’t know if she will come back. I think I have hurt her, and I don’t know how to remedy it. I wasn’t trained for that.

“Nephew,” Gregory said with a raised eyebrow. “I know you. And I know that your wife is not at the manor anymore. I like to think I am a reasonably intelligent, perceptive gentleman. Your sour mood and her absence can’t possibly be unrelated.”

Thomas swirled his brandy in his glass, wondering how to broach the subject that weighed so heavily on his mind. Still, if there was anyone worth telling, it was Gregory.

“I… kissed Sophia,” he said finally, choosing to make the occurrence more innocent.

He wasn’t about to tell his uncle, trustworthy and honest or not, what had really happened, primarily so he wouldn’t repeat the entire thing in his mind and yearn for it again.

“And…?” Gregory gestured expectantly.

“That’s it. I kissed her.”

The older man frowned. “Is… this Sophia person not the same Sophia you are married to?”

“What? No, never.”

Now that Thomas knew what he had been missing with his wife, he wouldn’t have dreamed of partaking in such things with anyone else.

“So, you’re telling me… you kissed your wife.”

Thomas realized how that sounded and cringed. “It’s not as simple as you think.”

“What is there to complicate it? You are married. You kissed. Married couples kiss.” Gregory sounded almost exasperated, or amused—Thomas’s mind was too foggy to tell.

“Uncle, you know about me and her and our families.”

“Of course, I do. I also know it’s a thing of the past. Wasn’t that the point of the marriage?”

If you could stop making such excellent points, that would be wonderful.

Thomas huffed out a breath. “It’s not that far back in the past. Eighty years is barely any time at all in the grand scheme of things.”

“Thomas.” Gregory steepled his fingers and blew out a similarly huffy breath. “She’s an attractive and kind young woman, and you are a handsome and kind young man, both at your prime and owners of abundant wealth and power. Did she… resist the kiss?”

“No. No, she didn’t.” Thomas cleared his throat, remembering how she had begged for his touch. “In fact,shebrought up the idea.”

“Perfect!” Gregory clapped his hands together. “That means there is mutual attraction—half the battle, my good man.”

“For pity’s sake, will you keep your voice down!”

“These louts are a bottle in each. They wouldn’t bat an eye if the King showed up,” Gregory said, gesturing around them. “Besides, maybe they should overhear, for you are behaving rather foolishly—they ought to share in the ridiculousness.”

“It is foolish, isn’t it?” Thomas dropped his head into his hand. “I shouldn’t have kissed her.”

And I shouldn’t have left a note. I should have said what I wrote to her face.

He regretted that, most of all. But if hehadtried to say it to her face, he knew he would have ended up kissing her, and more, again. He wouldn’t have been able to resist.

“No! That’s not what I meant.” Gregory sighed.

“Uncle, she is aKendall.”

“Oh, not this drivel again.” Gregory clicked his tongue. “I have been sick to death of it for years, and though I know everyone thinks Rosamund is half mad, I am inclined to at least agree with her in regard to burying it as deep as it will go. Their feud is not our feud. It never should have been. It’s… more foolish than you are being right now. Has always been.”

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