Page 49 of His Duchess of Scandal
Charles hated that he was so transparent. He said nothing, gave no indication of agreeing or disagreeing.
“She has sentyourforest aflutter, I dare say, Charles.”
Charles shot him a glare. “As I said, my interest lies in my daughter.”
“And mine strays to your wife, for I see the space she occupies in your mind. It is fate, is it not? You met a woman—a mysteriousbeauty that has never left your mind—only for her to become your wife. Whatever are you waiting for, Charles? What are you afraid of? You dreamed of finding her for weeks,months, after that party. You have finally found her. No, not only that, but now she is your Duchess. Why are you avoiding her now? What has changed?”
The question was not one Charles was ready for, but he gave it a moment of thought.
“You know that nothing has changed,” he replied. “I allowed myself one night of pleasure, and that is all it was. I made that promise to myself, and I will keep it.”
“But why justonenight? You have nothing to lose anymore, Charles! She is your wife now. Your reputations are no longer at risk.”
“Yes, but the painting remains,” he muttered. “It still looks scandalous.”
“Everything looks scandalous when the blasted ton wants a salacious story,” Levi mumbled, rolling his eyes as he drank deeply. Then, he shook his head. “Fine, have it your way. But do not think I cannot see your heart’s wounds on your face. I see how holding yourself back from her is draining you. I do hope you are enjoying your sleepless nights, my friend, for it seems you have signed yourself up for a lifetime of them if you will not bed your wife.”
“Levi,” Charles hissed.
“I am only saying what you should have been hearing for a while now. I am telling you because you will not allow anybody else to say it. Honestly, I am not certain you have anybody else to tell you?—”
“Oh, you tread averythin line.”
“I know, and while you still allow me to tread it, I will speak my mind. Approach her, Charles. You might find yourself pleasantly surprised.”
“I have my daughter to consider.”
“And? Forgive my nonchalance, but the Duchess is already living around Phoebe. I do not see a great deal changing if you were to bed your wife.”
The change will be that I cannot afford such distractions.
Charles took a swig of his drink.
Levi would know by the silence to finally stop pushing.
Regardless of whether the advice came or not, his friend had truly figured him out—Hermia had taken up far too much space in his mind, and no amount of painting was giving him the release he needed.
That same evening, Charles returned to Branmere Hall, strangely feeling not himself.
Both nervous and filled with dread, he stepped into the entrance hall, intending to head straight to his study. He had expedited the contract that had been ruined by the ink spill, and he needed to finish reading the terms and have it signed and mailed back.
As he made his way down the hall, he caught the light flickering in the parlor.
Walk on, Charles.Do not be tempted, for you know full well who is in there.
But how could he ignore the urge to enter a room in his own home? How could he ignore the desire when it coiled in his stomach and made his heart pound?
Get a hold of yourself, for Heaven’s sake.
He walked into the parlor and found Hermia curled up on the plush armchair he had definitely not noticed her favoring. Her nightgown covered her to her ankles, yet it left so much of her neck bare. He then noticed the color—champagne.
His mouth went dry.
Her head was bent, her eyes trained on a book in her lap. She had to know he had entered, but she said nothing, so he went right back?—
“You missed dinner,” Hermia said. “Again.”
Charles froze two paces away from the door. He could simply feign ignorance, pretend that he had not heard her, and hurry out of the parlor, but then her eyes rose to him.
