Page 11 of A Gamble with the Rakish Duke
He squinted at her and slowly shook his head. She glanced at him strangely.
“Well?” he prompted.
“I like the flavor,” she said, nodding agreeably.
But Oliver suspected she liked the cake more than she let on; there were mere crumbs left, and she had barely touched the rest of her breakfast.
Oliver was tempted to let her eat the rest of her honey cake while he looked her in the eye.
“Oh, do you?” he asked, raising an eyebrow as he rose from his chair.
The sudden movement made Alexandra flinch. She closed her mouth just as quickly, her cheeks pinkening again.
“Are you finished with your breakfast?” she squeaked, looking at him with alarm.
He was amused to see the hunger in her eyes as she looked over the rest of her breakfast.
“Finish your breakfast, Duchess. I am simply going against decorum and will sit next to you,” he said as he strode towardher. “How can I be the master of this house if I cannot make my own rules?”
“That sounds like a novel idea, Your Grace. But what is the purpose of such a rule?” Her eyes followed his movement, and her shoulders rose to her ears and stayed like that until he sat beside her.
“Why, to get to know my wife, of course.” His tone was slightly teasing, but he realized he truly wanted to get to know her.
A footman stepped forward from his post by the wall and, as if he could read the Duke’s mind, poured tea into the cup to his right.
“Thank you, Alfred,” Oliver acknowledged as the footman retreated.
He thought he heard approaching footsteps, urgent and a little louder than normal. Did he have visitors early this morning?
“You don’t have to be this close, Your Grace,” his wife protested in a low voice.
Oliver somehow suspected that she would have screamed at him if not for their present company.
This close, he could smell her scent.
Violets. Interesting.
“Oh, but you must finish your breakfast. Let me pour some honey on your bread.”
“You don’t have to do that.” Her tone was no longer as polite, but he had already reached for the honey.
His hand brushed against hers, and she instinctively recoiled, squaring her shoulders. The movement pushed her breasts forward.
Oliver didn’t pull back his hand. Instead, he studied her face. When she pulled back her hand, he let out a long breath slowly.
“Stay with me here in London, Duchess.”
Oliver made the offer not because he wanted her there; it was simply convenient. That way, he would not need to worry about her whereabouts or her plans. The incident at Devil’s Draw was proof that he had to keep a close eye on her. Much like his sister, she could very well disguise herself and get into the gambling hell again.
“I am no longer who I was a year ago, Your Grace. You and my father thought that I was merely an object to be bartered.”
“It was not how it happened,” he replied.
“Would you like to keep me here, as the pitiful wife everyone calls a weakling, while you continue your affairs?”
Oliver was shocked by the bitterness in Alexandra’s voice. No, not bitterness, he decided. She was right to question him. He had not sought her out for the whole year they were married. It took her attempt to save her father to draw him back to her. For him to remember that she existed.
“I have not been with another woman since the day we got married, Duchess. Yes, I was a rake of the first order for a long time, but I am not completely without honor.”
