Page 112 of A Duke Changes Everything
Her breath hitched. He loved the sound of it and the evidence of how they affected each other.
Mina drew her hand along his waistcoat buttons, down his chest to the edge of his trousers. Nick knew they had a dance to attend within the hour, but part of him prayed she’d continue her explorations.
“This reminds me of the one you wore the first day we met,” she said.
“You paid attention to my waistcoat?”
“Mmm.” A mischievous grin carved dimples in her cheek. “More the way you looked in your waistcoat.”
Talk of clothing made Nick want to remove every thread of hers. He dipped his head to kiss her again, but footsteps just over his shoulder stalled them both.
“A visitor to see you, Your Grace.” Wilder stood two feet away.
Nick narrowed one eye at the old man. His footsteps were as quiet as Milly’s and her little band of kittens.
“Who is it, Wilder?”
The old man’s mouth tightened into a grimace. “Mr. Gregory Lyle, sir.”
Mina tensed in his arms, and Nick suddenly wished he’d done more than slam the younger Lyle out of a saddle.
“Let me speak to him,” Mina said softly.
Nick held his breath when he saw the determination in her gold-brown gaze.
“Trust me, Nick.”
He did. Good grief, there were now four people he trusted. Five if he added Wilder. All things considered, he might even add Lady Claxton to the list.
This love business wasn’t quite what he expected. It wasn’t a tangle, but more of an unfettering. A feeling that grew and expanded, demanding to multiply and spread. Some sliver of it had begun to encompass the staff, the villagers, even the old stone walls of Enderley that Nick had spent so many years loathing.
“I do trust you,” he told her. “But I wouldn’t put my faith in him if he was the last man in England.”
“Just let me see what he wants.” She bounced up and pressed a kiss against his cheek.
Nick waited until she departed and then followed quietly, attempting to be as silent-footed as Wilder. He heard her voice and Lyle’s emerge from the sitting room where Nick had rested, and made love to Mina, after his injuries.
“I don’t care why you’ve come. Just go,” she told the younger Lyle. “I’ve found happiness. More than you can imagine.”
“If you’d just listen.” Gregory Lyle’s voice was oddly calm, not the high-pitched whine he’d employed during the business with the stallion. “I’ve merely come to apologize.”
“Why?” Mina’s tone was wary and gruff.
Nick grinned with pride.
“Because Lady Claxton insisted, and because you’re the Duchess of Tremayne. Our families have resided side by side in this village for centuries. We should not be at war.”
Nick bent his head, straining to hear her reply, but there was silence for a long stretch.
“Fine. I accept. Now go. You weren’t invited, Mr. Lyle.”
The young man had the audacity to chuckle at her.
Nick’s hands tightened into fists.
“Goodness, Mina,” the younger Lyle finally said. “Perhaps you will make a fierce duchess after all.”
“I think I will. Now go before I punch you again.”
