Page 97 of His Enemy Duchess

ONE MONTH LATER

“If you wouldn’t mind, my love, bend your neck a little bit,” Sophia said, struggling to get the cravat over her husband’s head so she could tie it.

“Only if you kiss it first,” Thomas replied.

She leaned in close and pressed a kiss to the base of his throat. “Thisis where I want to put the cravat. Now, bend your neck, and don’t get any notions—we can’t be late.”

“We could be a little late,” he replied with a smile.

She promptly whipped his chest with the cravat. “You are trying to stop me from tying this for you, but I shan’t be wooed into mischief, much as I’d like to spend the next few hours in bed with you.”

“Spoilsport.” He finally obliged her, refusing to look her in the eyes.

“Would it kill you to look at your wife while she tends to you?”

“Sophia, it’s embarrassing…”

“How is it embarrassing?” She started tying the cloth around his neck.

“I am a grown man unable to tie my own cravat.”

“You are an incredible husband and a hero who risked his life and limb to save his wife. How many men can say something like that? How many wives can say that about their husbands?”

Thomas exhaled at her comment and finally looked at her as a smile spread across his lips. She also smiled, and it caused his smile to grow wider.

After the incident with Frederick, the physician had managed to remove most of the lead bullet, and at first, Thomas had thought the lingering pain was just that while his body healed. But it still bothered him, and no remedy of his grandmother’s helped much, meaning that several actions that were simple routines before were now a struggle. The slightest movement could trigger the wrong nerves and send a flaming wave of pain across his shoulder.

“How many men can say with confidence that they have the kindest woman in all of England for their wife?” he asked, and Sophia smiled gleefully as she lightly tugged at the cloth, straightening it.

Keeping hold of the cravat, she pulled him into a kiss, and he didn’t need to be asked twice. He wrapped his arms around her, risking the scolding he would undoubtedly receive if he creased her dress, and kissed her as if theywereplanning to spend the rest of the day in bed—slow and sensual and intense, their tongues dancing together, their hands wandering.

I can persuade her to be late. I know I can.

He let his hand skim over the swell of her hip, trailing his fingertips downward.

She pushed him and stepped back. “Such a naughty man! I know I am easily convinced when it comes to you, but we shall just have to save it for afterward.” She cracked a grin as she whipped out her fan and fluttered it close to her face. “Honestly, it isexhaustingto be so desired by my husband.”

He smirked and scooped her up in his arms, damning whatever trouble his shoulder might decide to give him.

“Put me down!” Sophia yelped, laughing.

“I can’t. This is the swiftest way to get us both out of the door without pausing at the bed,” he replied, carrying her out of the room and down the stairs, past the staff, who blushed and smiled at their besotted Duke and Duchess.

“Andthatis the truth.” Sophia slowly brought the bright blue covers of Eliza’s diary together as she hastily brushed away a tear.

“So that’s where that was. I thought I had lost it,” Rosamund said with a croaking voice and a chuckle.

The rest of the table was also rapt. Everyone was there, as they had been instructed to be. Sophia’s parents and her two brothers, Thomas’s brother, uncle, mother, and grandmother—even Emily, Gregory’s daughter, who remained quiet as usual, though she showed some semblance of humanity as she discreetly dabbed her eye with a handkerchief. It was the most emotion Sophia had seen from the girl in ages, and she couldn’t blame her.

They all shifted awkwardly in their seats. Some of them had heard the story for the second time, but it was no less impactful, especially with Eliza’s direct testimony to put a pin through any lingering doubts about how the feud had begun and how foolish it had all been.

A smile spread across Sophia’s face as she caught James, seated next to her, offering Emily a handkerchief.

Ever the gentleman. Never change, James.

The silence was broken by Thomas, who rose from his chair, grabbing the attention of the room.

“As you can all see… this entire feud was initiated by a ridiculous misunderstanding that led to the death of the first innocent—my great-great-great-aunt Eliza and her unborn child. As such, I think it’s best to officially declare this feud?—”

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