Page 30 of Wedded to the Forbidden Duke
Her infuriatingly handsome, glistening, and veryshirtlesshusband.
If she had thought Ian was distracting through the window, it was nothing compared to how it felt to be so close to him while he was wearing such little clothing. Up close, the contours of his muscles were even more well-pronounced. She could better appreciate his height from this proximity, as well, observing how his muscles stretched from the proud line of his shoulders, all the way down to the hard, flat planes of his stomach, and lines that disappeared into the top of his trousers.
“Tea is over already?” While the words he was saying were common, and unremarkable, there was a devious edge to his tone that set her loins on fire. A small smirk rose to his lips as his eyes raked over her. She tried not to flush at the expression on his face—and, more pressingly, the thought of how those lips had felt against hers. “Whatever did you do to chase Miss Banfield away so soon?”
Cecilia cleared her throat. “I will be hosting a musicale here, at the estate next week.”
“Oh? Is that so?” Ian raised an eyebrow. “I suppose you have forgotten the small detail of asking me first?”
“Why should I have to ask you?”
“I am the lord of the estate, for one thing.”
“And I am the lady of the estate,” she retorted. “I would have thought you would be glad, to hear I am taking my duties as duchess seriously. After all, this is a marriage of convenience, is it not?”
He paused, eyes raking over her in a way that sent a shiver down her spine. She half hoped he would kiss her again, would do more than kiss her… Instead, he shook his head abruptly. “Why do you want to do this?”
She folded her arms. “It is what wives do.” When he did not respond, merely narrowing his eyes, she tilted her head, and sweetened her tone further. “I promise I will not get in the way of your day to day activities,” she said. “And besides, I think you will enjoy the event. You have the pianoforte in the parlor already, after all.”
Ian paused. “It was my mother’s,” he said stiffly.
Cecilia’s smile dimmed. “Ah,” she said. “I see.” She chewed on her lip, searching for words to say. “I will not do anything you do not wish, my lord,” she finally said, keeping her tone gentle. “But it would bring me great joy to do this.”
Ian sighed but held his hands up in surrender. She could not help but glance at the movement of the muscles in his arms and shoulders as he did so. “Fine. If only because I know you would annoy me to death if I attempted to stop you.”
“Finally, a point which I concede to you,” she replied, a smile of victory rising to her lips. “Have a good evening, my lord.”
With that, she took off briskly down the hall. But even as she resisted the urge to look back, she could have sworn she felt his eyes following her, heating her through to her very core.
There were no footsteps, so she knew he was not following her.
But she would have been lying if she said she did not wish he would.
Chapter Twelve
“Thank you for inviting me back so soon, Your Grace,” Mr. Ainsworth said as he settled back into his usual chair in Ian’s study. “Though I can’t imagine things can have changed much with the estate in so short a period of time?”
“It is a large property. Things change all the time.”
“I see.” The old man took a deep inhale from his pipe. “And relations are not improved with your wife?”
Immediately, Ian’s thoughts flew to the taste of Cecilia’s lips, and the feeling of her soft skin beneath his hands, the contours of his body so perfectly molded for his touch.
“We are cordial with each other,” he said stiffly. “Just as before. I see no need to improve things beyond that.”
“Your Grace, the two of you are to be married for years. Decades, one would imagine. Do you really wish for your relationship with the woman you are married to remain cordial, at best? You really ought to consider getting to know the lady. If not for your sake, then for hers.”
“For hers?” Ian looked at his solicitor with a raised brow. “I assure you, Mr. Ainsworth, Lady Cecilia seems no more in a hurry than I to deepen our relationship.”
“You must try to see things from her point of view,” Mr. Ainsworth insisted. “Until very recently, she was living with her family. Mother, brother. Surrounded by friends in theton. And now, quite swiftly—if what you say about this being a marriage of convenience is true—she finds herself in a new place, all on her own, with no one she knows, expected to run a vast household with which she is entirely unfamiliar. I would be surprised if she were not at least a little overwhelmed.”
“Not at all. If anything, she is quite the opposite,” Ian said. “In fact, my wife informed me a few days ago that she would be hosting an evening of music at the estate in a few days’ time. You ought to come, if you are not busy.”
“I received my invitation this morning,” Mr. Ainsworth replied, a twinkle in his eye. “I very much look forward to attending.”
Ian paused, taking in this information. Good god, his wife was efficient. “Ah,” he said at last. “Well. There, you see, Mr. Ainsworth. She is not struggling in the slightest.”
“Yes, yes, she is adapting to her responsibilities with remarkable speed. But I can only imagine it could only help, for her to feel supported by the lord of the house in her endeavors.”
