Page 55 of The Wayward Duke
The quiet empathy in his voice loosened some of the tightness in Caroline’s chest. “And then we lost Grace shortly after the wedding. He left to give the news to her father and sister.” She cleared the emotion clogging her throat. “And while he was gone, I lost our baby.”
“Oh, Caro. I’m so sorry.” Agony rippled across Richard’s face. This new father would clearly burn the world down for his wife and child. “I didn’t know.”
Caroline managed a tremulous almost-smile, emotions scraped raw and bleeding. “It was a long time ago.”
He shook his head, refusing to allow her to minimise the depth of those wounds. “May I hug you? You look as though you need one.”
At her slight nod, he came around the table and sat beside her, wrapping her in a fierce embrace.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured into her hair. “I didn’t mean to cause you distress with my prying. Simply say the word, and I’ll go outside and punch myself for my spectacular idiocy just now. I’d consider it a privilege.”
A faint laugh escaped her this time. She gave him a final squeeze before relaxing back. “No fisticuffs required, but I appreciate the offer.”
“Very well. But let it be known the offer remains open if you need it.”
Footsteps echoed down the corridor before Caroline could respond. She glanced up as Julian appeared in the doorway.
Caroline watched his expression shutter as he took in the cosy tableau; Richard’s arm was draped around her shoulders. For a heartbeat, his stride faltered. Caroline fancied she could hear the neat click of locks sliding into place. In the span of a blink, the remote and untouchable Duke of Hastings stood before them once more.
Without a word, Julian removed his gloves and overcoat, laying them neatly across a side table. He moved with calm, economical motions, giving no hint of his inner turbulence. When he turned back to them, his expression remained fixed in icy politeness. Only the arctic chill of his gaze gave any indication of his mood.
“Forgive the interruption, duchess. I wasn’t aware you had a guest.” He inclined his head in greeting. “Grey.”
“Hastings,” Richard returned coolly, still lounging on the divan beside Caroline. He made no move to stand or withdraw his arm from around her shoulders.
Julian’s gaze tracked the casual contact, pale eyes shuttering further. “To what do we owe the unexpected pleasure?”
Smooth as cream, that question. But the words dripped disdain.
Before Richard could come back with an equally biting riposte, Caroline interjected, “Richard stopped by to check on me. He wanted to ensure I was all right after the bombing.”
“How thoughtful. As you can see, my wife remains quite healthy and intact. So your concern, while admirable, was unnecessary.”
“One can never be too careful.” Richard’s own smile was tight. “I’ll always be here when Caro needs me. Whether it’s for cheering up or mending a broken heart. Wouldn’t be the first time.”
The temperature in the elegant little sitting room plunged. Caroline watched darkness sweep across Julian’s expression, there and gone between one heartbeat and the next. His sculpted features might as well have been carved from marble. Beautiful. Remote. Untouchable.
Sensing the mounting tension, Caroline extricated herself from Richard’s embrace and rose to her feet. She conjured up a smile that felt thin and brittle on her lips. “Thank you for coming, Richard. Do give your family my love.”
Richard rose as well, blue eyes intent on her face. “Of course. Visit us soon, won’t you? I’m sure Anne and Lillian would love to see you.” Then he leaned forward and whispered in her ear, “Best brace yourself when I leave. But a little jealousy is good for the soul.”
Before she could respond, Richard quickly kissed her hand and departed with a wink.
The silence left in his wake felt oppressive. Julian stood still in the centre of the room, muscles coiled tight beneath his expensive tailored jacket. A predator leashed by the barest of threads.
The stoic duke peeling away.
And then, gone.
Julian crossed the room in three swift strides and crushed his mouth to hers. No warning, no questions, just pure heat and blatant possession. His tongue swept past her lips to stroke along hers, staking his claim in no uncertain terms. Caroline melted into the contact, the heady taste and feel of him sweeping all coherent thought away in a hot rush.
Before she could catch her breath, Julian was lifting her into his arms. Caroline clung to him as he mounted the stairs, heedless of servants.
Once the bedroom door was shut and locked behind them, Julian set her back on her feet. His gaze scorched over her with its intensity.
“What happened at Charing Cross?” Caroline demanded breathlessly, still reeling.
“Crisis averted,” he said, ruthlessly unbuttoning her dress. “I need you naked.”
