Page 59 of The Heiress Gets a Duke
Evan gave a soft laugh at the idea of it. “No. He despised London.”
“Would he have begun brawling for his dinner?”
Another reluctant smile tugged at his mouth. “William was a scholar, and while he could hold his own in a gentleman’s match, he could never have fought the likes of Wilkes.”
“Then I think had he lived you might still be the one saving your estates.”
He was stunned dumb by that conclusion, because she might well be right in her assessment. He had spent his life looking up to his older brother and knowing that he would never live up to William’s example. Never once had it crossed his mind that William might not have been up to the challenges of being duke.
“I miss him.” It was the first time he had said that to anyone.
“I know.” She leaned down so that their noses almost touched. Her eyes had darkened and become more intent. Something had changed within her. “I cannot say how things would have been different had William lived; no one can. But I can say that you have done well by your responsibility, and I admire you greatly.”
The tightness in his chest that had held him prisoner for so long loosened with her words. It was as if she had cut the rope binding him and he could breathe freely for the first time in years. “You...” His voice was thick and raw when he spoke. “You admire me?”
“Yes.” Her fingers stroked his cheeks. “Very much so.”
He had no time to consider what that might mean, because she pressed her lips to his. He opened beneath the soft pressure, greedy for her after having denied them both this simple pleasure. She tasted as sweet and good as he remembered. The soft brush of her tongue should have been a balm to his pain, but instead it made it surge, setting the dam inside him to wavering perilously. She curled her fingers in his hair and made a sweet little sound as she kissed him with all of the pent-up hunger he had been harboring for her and slid into his lap. Salt mingled with her taste. It was only then that he realized he had been crying. He was crying. With the twist of pressure in his chest gone, there was nothing to stop the flood of pain from spilling over the top, sending the dam crashing down.
The swell of sadness inside him was so overwhelming that he let out a gasp. She jerked back as if she was afraid that she had hurt him. “I’m sorry.”
“No.” He pulled her back to him, taking her mouth as if he needed it for his next breath. “Do not be.”
She wrapped her arms around him, and he held hertight. But the pain would not be held back. It surged to the surface of the kiss to make itself known. Another gasp moved between them, and then another. A sob welled, and he had to break the kiss to hold it back.
“Evan?”
Burying his face in her neck, the sob tore out of him. She gathered him close to her breast and placed small kisses along his hairline while murmuring encouragements. It was only in that moment that he realized he had never mourned his brother. He had gone through the motions, but Father had always been there lurking in the background, waiting to swoop in on some perceived weakness. Evan had opted to hold the pain of William’s loss inside, hoping that if he held it long enough, it would dissolve into nothing. And then when Father had died, Evan’s life had become a series of obstacles, each more damning than the last, as if the man had designed them as a sort of punishment that would continue long after his death.
“I miss him,” he whispered.
She kissed his temple and ran a soothing hand down his back. His muscles rippled beneath her touch, like a cat being soothed by a beloved human.
She held him for a long time, until he had stopped trembling and managed to halt the tears. Taking one last deep inhale of her scent, he pressed a kiss to her neck, then another to her chest, and one more to the swell of her breasts. Her fingers lightly tugged at his hair, drawing him upward. He pressed a soft kiss to her lips, but it quickly burned hotter and hungrier than before. Experienced now, she opened to him, and the bold brush of her tongue only inflamed him more. One of her hands moved down the column of his throat, her thumb gently pressed to his pulse before dipping lower, trying to find its way between the buttons of his shirt to reach his skin. He groaned with the need to touch her, too, and feel the warmth of her skin against his.
“August.” He whispered her name as he took a breath. Her mouth chased his, taking another kiss. And then another. She had assuaged the pain so sweetly, there was onlyfire between them now. He took control of the kiss, seizing her mouth with a need bordering on desperation.
“... reading, most likely. It’s where she normally sneaks off to at home.”
Violet’s voice came crashing down around them mere seconds before the door was pushed fully open. She stepped in just as August jumped from his lap. Violet’s eyes went wide at the sight of them, and she whirled to face the twins, who likely stood behind her, obscured by the door. “Perhaps we should go fetch some cakes before we disturb her. I’m famished.”
“Excellent idea,” Louisa agreed, and the voices began to fade.
August’s chest heaved as she struggled to catch her breath, and her cheeks were flushed. Their kissing would be no secret to anyone who looked upon her. Or him, especially if he stood up.
“I should go before they come back,” she said.
He nodded. It was the logical thing, but he wanted her to stay. He wanted to spend the whole rainy day with her. First here in the library, and then in his bed. It was probably the one thing her parents would not agree to allow. Or perhaps they were desperate enough to permit him the indiscretion if it would entice her to say yes to him. A wild impulse to test the theory nearly propelled him out of his chair, but one look at her stopped him.
She stared at him with such beautiful trust and tenderness that he could not act on his dishonorable thoughts. If they went further, it would be because she chose him, not because of her parents or his need for a wife. It would only be because of their need for each other.
“Goodbye.” She cupped his cheek, and he turned into the touch, kissing her palm. Smiling, her fingertips traced the ridge of his jaw in a lingering caress as she walked away, leaving him alone.
Evan was left too weak and disoriented to move right away. He leaned forward, propping his elbows on the table and resting his head in his hands, much the way she had found him.
Chapter 17
Truth is such a rare thing, it is delightful to tell it.
