Page 51 of Wedded to the Forbidden Duke
“I feel the same,” she finally murmured into his shoulder, trying to steady her breath even as her muscles twitched with the aftershocks of pleasure. “I feel just the same.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Cecilia had not realized what bliss marital life could be.
During the days, she now often ran into Ian. They often ate dinner together, smiling at each other across the table. Of course, they still argued; but more playfully now. Now they had reached a better understanding of each other, they were no longer out for blood.
Instead, their arguments only served to tease the passion they would show to each other after the sun had set.
She had not known any man could be capable of making her feel this way. He took his time in exploring her, learning what made her body respond in which ways.
Sometimes she teased him more during the day in anticipation of bringing him to his breaking point. Their intimacies did not only flourish in the dark; indeed, Ian had made a point of showing his passion for her at a variety of hours.
She went to sleep in Ian’s arms more nights than not, always after having passed hours being brought to the heights of pleasure. She slept well, and deeply. When she did dream, it was only ever of pleasant things—sometimes, things that made her blush, like the feeling of Ian’s hands roaming her body; his mouth, against her lips and against her neck and in between her legs.
However, no matter how many times she went to sleep in her husband’s embrace, she always woke up alone.
There were worse things, she knew. Ian was an early riser. Perhaps he did not wish to wake her up. And he truly did have a lot of work to be done regarding the managing of the estate. The grounds were vast, and he took the work seriously.
And, of course, as happy as their marriage was, she still knew it was what it had begun as—an affair of convenience. He had not confessed his love for her, or any such thing.
She knew better than to expect a life like out of one of her romance novels.
Still, she could not deny that there were feelings forming deep within her. Something more than lust. She had grown to like Ian. More than that, she had even grown to care about it.
So it stung, a bit, to always find him gone in the morning. But then she would run into him on the estate later in the day, or find him in his office, and their delicious game of verbal foreplaywould begin again, which was a most effective balm to her half-bruised feelings.
After finishing yet another breakfast alone, she took off towards his office. It had been a while since they had done much socializing with anyone but the other and their staff; a week, at least, since the night Nancy and Zachary had come to dine. Just the day before, she had received a letter from her mother, saying she missed her and hoped to see her in London soon.
Perhaps they could travel there together.
It would be a logical decision,Cecilia reasoned to herself. Surely Ian had business to tend to in the city, and certainly he would want to see Zachary, and his other friends.
The door to his office was ajar. As had become their custom, Cecilia knocked lightly on the door twice before entering. “And what business are you up to today, husband?” she asked sweetly.
Ian, seated at his desk, smiled up at her. “Ah, Cecilia. Good morning.”
A figure sat up from the chair opposite him—a well-dressed, kindly-looking figure with a tobacco pipe in hand. “Good morning, Your Grace,” he said.
Cecilia smiled at the solicitor. “Good morning, Mr. Ainsworth. Good to see you. What business brings you here?”
“Ah, you know your husband, Your Grace,” Mr. Ainsworth said, chuckling. “He is the most fastidious lord in all of England, if not all of the continent! He always insists that I go over the numbers, as though he hadn’t already perfectly balanced all of his books himself.”
“Have I really? Then what on Earth am I paying you for?” Ian laughed. His brow furrowed slightly in jest, but he still wore a smile.
He had taken on a new look of ease over the past few weeks, Cecilia noticed. Almost as though their improved marital relations had truly taken a weight off of his chest.
“Do not tell me you mind our visits all that much, Mr. Ainsworth.”
“Oh, of course not, my lord. I jest. You know I am always glad to see you thinking so seriously about your finances, and the future of the estate. It is especially important now, given your current state of affairs—and the likely future.”
“What do you mean, Mr. Ainsworth?” Ian asked.
Mr. Ainsworth took another puff of the pipe he always carried with him and smiled. “Well. I have no doubt that the estate will be overrun with little lords and ladies, before long. After all, it is no secret that the two of you would make a lovely family.”
With her arm tucked into the crook of Ian’s elbow, Cecilia felt him stiffen. She looked up, and saw his jaw had tensed, as well. He shook his head at Mr. Ainsworth.
“Why,” she began, surprised. “What is the matter, Ian?”
