Page 54 of A Spinster for the Cold Duke

His eyes flew wide then, and Henry felt his jaw tighten involuntarily. Had she known about his gift all this while?

“Ahem.” He cleared his throat, irritated at the way he felt his cheeks heating up. “I just thought it would be a nice gift for the lady. Her grandmother has been helping you quite a bit. There’s nothing to it.”

Celia, however, did not look like she believed him one bit. “Ah, Papa, you really should take some lessons on how to woo a lady because you’re ever so terrible at it!”

“Excuse me?” He sputtered, snapping his head down to glare at his daughter.

“I think you should have just told her how beautiful she looked in the dress,” She continued as her nose turned up in the air and her lips curved in an amused line.

Henry scoffed. So, was he now to be subjected to receiving advice from a teenager? His daughter, no less?

As he was about to open his mouth to deliver a suitably repressive response that wouldn’t encourage his daughter further, the butler admitted them into the drawing room where Lady Oakley waited. The elderly woman’s face lit up at the sight of them.

“Your Grace, Lady Celia,” she greeted them as she rose from her chair with the grace of someone who had spent decades navigating society’s intricacies. “How lovely to see you both again today. I do hope you’re prepared for today’s lesson on the philosophical implications of natural science. Annabelle has prepared the most fascinating discussion on?—”

“Ah, about that,” came Annabelle’s voice from the doorway, and Henry felt his entire body tense at the sound. “Forgive the interruption, Grandmother. Your Grace, might I have a word? I’ve selected some additional reading materials for Lady Celia, but I thought it prudent to seek your approval first.”

Henry turned toward her, and his breath caught despite his best efforts to remain composed. She was wearing a simple cream dress that emphasized the elegant line of her neck and the graceful curve of her waist. He noted how she kept her gaze carefully averted from his and allowed her dark lashes to cast shadows on her cheeks.

God, but she was beautiful in a way that made his chest tight.

His mind, traitorous as it was, immediately supplied vivid memories of how she’d looked in that emerald gown at the shop—the way the silk had clung to her curves, how the low cut seemed to offer her breasts up to him like a full course buffet. Those memories had plagued his dreams for the past two nights, leaving him restless and aching.

“Of course,” he managed, and his voice came out rougher than intended. The simple words seemed to scrape against his throat. “Celia, I shall return shortly.”

“Oh, take your time, Papa,” Celia replied with barely concealed amusement while settling herself beside Lady Oakley with the air of someone preparing for an entertaining show. “I’m sure you and Miss Lytton have much to… discuss.”

Henry shot his daughter a warning look that promised a serious conversation about propriety later, before trailing Annabelle from the room. He couldn’t prevent his gaze from following the sensual sway of her hips beneath her dress and exciting his baser desires.

When they reached the library, Annabelle moved to a table where indeed a stack of books waited, their spines bearing the names of respected philosophers and natural scientists.

Henry’s attention was immediately drawn to the package beside them. The same expensive wrapping had contained his gift, and it was still unopened, sitting there like an accusation.

“You have the books ready, I see,” he said quietly, though his gaze remained fixed on the unopened package.

The sight of it sitting there, rejected and untouched, stirred something uncomfortable in his chest.

“Yes,” Annabelle replied in a voice that was carefully modulated and suggested she was working hard to maintain her composure. “I thought Lady Celia might enjoy these treatises. Bacon’s essays on empirical observation and Descartes on the nature of scientific inquiry. They’re quite advanced, but her mind is clearly capable of grasping complex concepts.”

She was speaking too quickly, Henry realized, as the words tumbled over each other in a way that suggested nerves. Or perhaps she simply wanted to be rid of him as quickly as possible.

That did not sit well with him at all. “Why haven’t you opened it?” He interrupted, nodding toward the package.

A flush bloomed across her cheeks, and she straightened up and raised her chin at him. “Because I don’t require charity from you, Your Grace.”

The formal address stung more than he cared to admit. “It was not meant as charity,” Henry said, stepping closer despite himself, drawn by some force he couldn’t resist.

“I don’t understand what game you’re playing,” Annabelle said, finally meeting his eyes. Her own were narrowed in naked suspicion. “One moment you’re dismissive of how I looked in that gown, and the next you’re purchasing it for me. I do not appreciate your games, Your Grace. If you want me to thank you for something, then you should probably?—”

Henry felt something snap inside him at her words. All the careful control he’d maintained for days suddenly crumbled. “You think you know what I want?” he demanded as his voice dropped to a husky whisper. “You believe you have the faintest notion of what I desire?”

“Then show me,” she challenged, though her voice trembled slightly.

CHAPTER 19

“Ibarely understand it myself,” Henry admitted, running a hand through his hair in a gesture of frustration that was entirely unlike his usual composed demeanor. His carefully styled hair fell across his forehead, making him look younger and less controlled. “All I know is that I cannot stop thinking about you. About how you felt in my arms, how you tasted when I kissed you.”

Annabelle’s eyes widened as her lips parted on a soft gasp that seemed to echo in the quiet library.

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