Page 33 of The Duke's All That
He’d had breakfast sent to her room, with a good quantity of strong coffee, so she’d not had to enter the dining room for sustenance—and been forced to see him for the first time in a public setting since waking nearly naked in his arms. No, she had not had to contend with that uncomfortable moment until she appeared in the busy yard for their departure. She’d stepped into the late-morning sun, breathing in deep of the fresh air, ready to finally see Iain and get past that first uncomfortable moment.
At the sight of him standing beside the equipage talking to his men, however, she instantly forgot all about remainingdistant and cool. His shoulders were broad under the snug fit of his black coat, his legs strong where they peaked out beneath his kilt, the hair atop his head catching the sunlight and transforming to a myriad of browns and golds and auburns. A shiver of electrical awareness skittered through her body, her mind emptying. Her steps slowed, her gaze traveling over him from the top of his head to the tips of his boots. Remembering all too well what he looked like beneath those clothes.
Phineas, secure in his cage once more, must have sensed the change in her, for he ruffled his feathers and called out, perturbed, “Noo jist haud on!” Which, of course, caught Iain’s attention. His head jerked up, his gaze snagging on her.
It was as if time froze. For the barest moment, she felt as if the entire world had been encased in amber, achingly still, only she and Iain seemingly aware of one another.
And then a horse neighed, and a man laughed, and the spell was blessedly broken.
Face hot, Seraphina raised her head and stormed forward, determined not to show a bit of her nerves. “Good morning, gentlemen,” she said as she approached Iain and his men, nodding her thanks as the groom took her bag from her. And then, without another glance Iain’s way, she climbed up into the carriage with Phineas. She had been so determined to make certain he understood that nothing happened between them and that there could be nothing physical between them, she had not considered how painfully awkward it would be to do so. But no matter how uncomfortable she felt in his presence now—something that should have dissipated after their conversation the night before but which their climbing into bed together hadcompletely negated—she was determined to get through today, even if it killed her. Which, she thought as her eyes once more traveled to Iain standing just outside the carriage door—only to see his gaze quite firmly on her, though he talked to his men, a new awareness in his eyes that had her skin pimpling—it just might.
Chapter 15
Iain had no sooner hefted himself into the carriage and settled across from Seraphina before he began speaking, determined to tackle the elephant in the room… er, carriage.
“About last night—”
Unfortunately, she chose that moment to speak as well, and not only that but the exact same words, her voice at once echoing and clashing with his in the close interior. Which caused them both to lose whatever momentum they had managed. They fell into a charged silence, staring at each other, uncertain how to continue.
It was only when the carriage jolted forward that Iain finally reclaimed some ability to think. He cleared his throat. “Nothing happened last night,” he finally blurted, needing to get it out in the open, needing her to know. After witnessing the horror in her face when he had woken and how swiftly she had torn herself from the bed and his arms,God only knew what was going through her mind. He could not have her questioning what had occurred between them.
“Yes, I’m aware of that,” she replied with a quickness that told of relief.
He let loose the breath he hadn’t known he was holding as his own relief coursed through him. Thank the saints she had not been torturing herself with questions about what might have happened. But when her expression suddenly shifted, tension bracketing her mouth in a frown, his muscles seized once more. Whatever else she felt she had to say, it was not pleasant.
“What is it?” he demanded, wanting to get it over with—whateveritwas—quickly.
Gripping the seat beneath her as if to anchor herself to the spot and keep from spinning off in a blur of agitation, she blurted, “I want you to know that, no matter the state we happened to wake in this morning”—her cheeks blossomed into a hue so vibrant it battled with her hair for attention—“nothing will happen between us.”
It took him some seconds to understand what she was saying. But when he did, he couldn’t help but gape at her. “I would nae ever expect that, Seraphina.” No sooner were the words out of his mouth, however, before he remembered his body’s reaction to her atop him, how his cock had sprung to life. Right against her leg.
He cleared his throat. “I assure you,” he said, his voice strangled, “that part of me has a mind of its own but in nae way controls me.”
She nodded, her gaze dropping from his, as if she could no longer stomach looking at him—or was just too damn embarrassed. He winced. That he could understand only too well.
“That’s… good,” she finally managed. “I’m glad we have gotten that out of the way then.”
They fell into silence once more. The carriage rocked beneath them, the jangle of the tack and the steady and unrelenting pounding of the horses’ hooves on the road muted inside the plush interior. Phineas, that damned pigeon, made a few low, trilling sounds. And he was left wondering what the devil he could say after such awkwardness.
Which was ridiculous, considering the revelations of the day before. They now knew that neither of them had betrayed the other. Their animosity and unease with one another should be gone, banished along with the lies they had unearthed. But things were no easier between them than they had been. In fact, they seemed so much worse, each of them seemingly unable to comprehend how to act with the other.
Suddenly she spoke again, her husky, uncertain voice filling the interior of the coach. “And… you are still intent on securing a divorce?”
He blinked. Perhaps that was the source of unease then. He had not even thought to question their determination to continue on with their plans to divorce. But it made sense, didn’t it? Everything they had been led to believe about the other leaving had been a lie. It was only natural that one of them might wish to take up where they had left off.
He nearly snorted at that. As if the past thirteen years, more than a third of his life, could be so easily brushed under the rug as if it was of no significance. As if he could forget all the heartache and life-changing events that had transpired in that time.
Even so, it took some effort to reply to her. The words he knew he must say, that they needed to move forward withthe divorce, stuck in his throat, refusing to budge for several long, agonizing seconds. “Aye,” he finally managed, forcing the words past the strange lump in his throat, “I am still determined to divorce you.”
She nodded again. “Good. I am as well.” She looked at him then, the bright blue of her gaze seeming to hide some deep emotion he could not name. “After all, we are not the same people we were, are we?”
“Nae,” he replied quietly, even as his chest ached with the truth of it. “That we are nae.”
Something in his tone must have affected her, for her eyes suddenly turned unbearably sad. It was quickly gone, however, as she turned away to busily smooth her skirts over her lap. “I’m glad to see you’ve given it as careful consideration as I myself have,” she said, her voice brusque. “I would have us on the same page where something so momentous must be accomplished.”
The moment of their shared grief, as if they both mourned what might have been, had been brief. Yet it had shaken Iain to his core. As it did to her, if her trembling hands were any indication. Forcing a bark of laughter in an attempt to dissolve the loaded emotion of the moment, he said in a careless way he knew would rankle her, “Oh, there was nae careful consideration on my part. Rather, it was the decision of a moment.”
As he’d hoped, Seraphina quickly took the bait. All hint of vulnerability vanished as she turned a scowl on him. “But that’s pure carelessness.”
