Page 75 of A Scottish Bride for the Duke
“Thank you, my friend.” He rose suddenly. “I should get back. I feel uneasy leaving her alone at the house too long.”
Joseph hid his smile behind his whisky. “Marriage changes us all.”
When he got home, he found Isobel still awake, reading in the library. He came up behind her, kissing her on the cheek.
“I thought for certain you’d have gone to bed,” he said, and she leaned into his embrace.
“I thought ye would wake me up when ye joined me,” she said with a delightful curve to her mouth. Sometimes, he thought he was transfixed by the sight of her mouth. “Besides, I’m enjoying my book.”
“You didn’t mind that I was gone so long?”
“Of course not. Ye are still a man with a man’s pleasures.”
He sat on the sofa beside him and drew her onto his lap. “You sate many of those desires, wife.”
She dimpled at him. “I’m very pleased to hear it. Did ye have a good time?”
He kissed her, deciding not to tell her about Moreton. No need to worry her, and every time she thought about him, he felt the way she tensed. Uncomfortable. Unhappy.
“I drank a little,” he said when he came up for air.
“I can taste it on you. Whisky.” She smiled, eyes crinkling. “I hope it was the good kind.”
“And what’s the good kind?”
“Scottish,” she answered immediately, and he laughed.
Now, the prospect of returning to her at their home had become more appealing.
“I believe it was. Or Irish.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Terrible stuff.”
He tweaked her chin. “What would you know about it?”
“I used to steal my father’s whisky when necessary.” She nuzzled closer. “I’m glad you came home.”
“Oh?”
“It gets cold in the evenings.”
He held her closer, suspecting that wasn’t the true reason. But she had never been particularly good at admitting weakness to him, even if confessing to being scared of a very real danger didn’t strike him as weakness at all.
“Eliza came to visit me today,” she said. “She said we should return to society.”
“Do you want to?”
“Mm.” Her breath brushed his neck, and he resisted the urge to kiss her again.
Being apart from her made him mad to taste her in a way he’d never experienced before, but his concern for her wellbeing overrode even his lust.
An odd feeling.
“I think it would make sense to. But Lord Moreton is still in London,” she continued.
“Now he’s found you, I doubt he’ll leave again,” he said, and stroked a hand up and down her spine. “Are you afraid? I won’t let him hurt you.”
“I want to show him that I’mnotafraid. And…” She leaned back and looked into his face. “I want to show him that I have your support. Your affection.”
