Page 74 of His Duchess' Mischief

But Alicia had caught him playing with the kitten too many times to believe that.

The Duke leaned forward, his big body pushing against her gently as he turned the handle and opened the door behind her, his eyes meeting hers.

Her breath hitched, wondering if he had changed his mind.

“I am not a saint, Duchess, but I will not claim you until you are sure of what you want. When that day comes, I will bring to life all the fantasies I have had since I first saw you in your wedding dress.”

He leaned in close, his warm breath fanning her cheek as he smiled down at her.

“But I would urge you to think of me when you go to bed tonight, and how exquisite you looked with my fingers inside you.”

Alicia’s knees went weak, and she collapsed against the door as the Duke smirked with satisfaction, walking away to his rooms.

The man will be the very death of me.

CHAPTER 23

The next morning, Alicia went down to breakfast with two feathers in her hair instead of one.

For the first time, she was not embarrassed when she saw the servants, and instead of nervousness at what Seth’s reaction might be, she only felt anticipation.

Hiding a smile, she sauntered onto the terrace, relishing the little smile on his lips as his eyes traveled up to her head until they reached the tips of the feathers.

“Good morning,” she said cheerily, sitting down and pulling the plate of toast toward her.

Seth sipped his tea, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Will you be wearing that to meet your friends today?” he asked.

“Oh no,” she said with mock outrage, running a finger over one of the feathers. “They would never fit in the carriage.”

Seth chuckled, placing his teacup down as he continued to read the paper, and Alicia smiled to herself as she buttered her toast.

A few letters sat beside the newspaper, stacked neatly in a pile, and Alicia eyed them, recalling what he had said about who had written them.

“Did you find what you were searching for?” she asked tentatively, wondering if it was impertinent to mention them.

Seth glanced up at her, but there was no hint of irritation in his gaze. He picked up his tea again, sipping it thoughtfully. “No, not yet.”

“But you are still searching for something?”

“Indeed. But as it stands, I am not certain what it is.”

She watched his eyes grow sad once more, the need to banish the sorrow from his countenance rising within her. She wanted to see him grin again as he had done the night before, but his mood this morning seemed contemplative.

She was curious, not to say intrigued by what he was looking for, and a part of her wanted to probe for answers. Something terrible must have led to the accusations against him and the subsequent trial, but looking at his expression, she decided not to pry.

She usually liked to solve mysteries, but she did not wish to make him unhappy. He would tell her in his own time.

She took a bite of her toast. “I hope you find whatever it is you are looking for. It is clearly important.”

Seth stared at her over the rim of his cup, his hand frozen momentarily. Then, he lowered it and tilted his head to the side as the breeze rustled the trees beyond them.

“Thank you, Alicia,” he said softly. “I very much hope I will.”

They both ate their breakfast silently, but the tension bled from Seth’s shoulders with each minute.

Slowly, he relaxed back in his chair, watching her curiously.

“Are you taking the carriage to the park today?” he asked. “It is still your intention to promenade with Lady Bridget and Miss Hill, is it not?”

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