Page 54 of A Duchess to Unravel
Her tone was suddenly so soft, so broken, that it caused in ache in Alistair’s heart. He took a moment to wrangle his need for control, and when he spoke next, his tone was gentler.
“Why? Is the food not to your liking? Is Steaphan’s cooking to wild for ye? If so, one of the new English hands can prepare your meals.”
A small smile touched her lips.
“No. I quite like his dishes,” she replied, “I just … since my mother took ill, what I ate had been the one thing I could control. I suppose as I ate less, my appetite diminished.”
Alistair’s brow creased, and he could not help but lean down and brush a delicate kiss along her ribs. It eased his worry slightly as she let out a soft sigh and undulated slightly under the soft caress.
“Ye miss ye mother.”
It was a statement. One Theo did not refute.
“I do. Very much. I could not make her better. But ….”
“What?” Alistair whispered, looking up at her.
Theo nibbled her bottom lip for a moment, then spoke.
“Perhaps it goes beyond that. Even before she fell ill, there was so much pressure on me to find a husband. Which was a feat, given my obvious resistance to doing so. No one wanted a bull-headed wife such as I. One that was a bluestocking and liked to question things. My reputation was precarious long before I found the Devil’s Masquerade. And the pressure of it … I think … It felt as if I were this great big thing being shoved into a very small space, and I was not strong enough to fight it. I had to make myself small somehow, and I could not bear to stop feeding who I was- who I am, as a person. My values, mythoughts. They are who I am. I cannot limit them. I found other ways to limit myself and to feel some control.”
She paused, her hand sweeping down toward the dip of her abdomen.
“I have never told anyone that before,” she murmured, her fingers grazing over her flat stomach. “Not even my friends.”
Alistair trailed his hand from her ribs down to her hand. He closed his fingers around hers and brought it to his lips, kissing her knuckles, her palm.
“Your secret is safe with me, little kitten,” he swore, looking into her eyes.
He was rewarded with a glimmer of relief in her blue eyes.
“Furthermore, you no longer need to restrict yourself in any way. You are now under my protection, and you may choose to be who you wish.”
Theo let out a small, hollow laugh.
“Except for Calypso. She may never rise again.”
Alistair said nothing. He could not deny that. Even as the threat of exposure seemed to be dwindling, he could not in good conscience allow her to take on her other persona. Not while herstalker remained a mystery, at least. However, he had plans to remedy that.
“Eat with me.”
Theo’s eyes flicked back to his, surprised.
“Each morning,” he went on. “Break your fast with me. I cannae promise you luncheon or dinner, not while I continue to my work, but I want ye to start having one meal with me a day. And while we are in London, I will do my best to be by your side for at least two meals a day.”
Theo studied him a moment, looking unsure.
“Why does this matter to you?” She asked.
“Ye are under my protection,” Alistair replied, letting go over her hand and sliding his body over hers. “From others and yeself. I willnae let my wife starve. For anything.”
As he said so he dipped his head to her neck, placing warm, wet kisses along her flesh. She shivered and reached for his naked back, pressing him further into her.
“Say ye will eat with me,” he said, his tone gentle yet commanding as he kissed down the column of her throat.
“I will,” she breathed, starting to writhe beneath him.
He hummed in satisfaction as he drew his lips lower to her breasts relishing the feel of her nails tightening against his back as he did so.
