Page 35 of An Innocent Maid for the Duke
Jake did his absolute best not to look at Rose’s sumptuous figure wrapped about in a lace so sheer he was sure as she entered the room he had seen... No, he was not going to think about it. He was a gentleman. She’d given him her trust.
Even as he quelled the urge to stroke a finger down the rope of plaited hair lying over her left shoulder and breast, he could not prevent himself from inhaling the scent of lavender from her evening ablutions rising from the warmth of her body,
That was too much to ask of any man. Especially with a woman as attractive as Rose. In the light of their candles, her skin had a translucent quality. Like very fine china with a light behind it, yet the glow was all her own.
He would not give in to his urges.
He hoped.
For that would be a betrayal.
‘Are you in the mood for entertainment or sleep?’ he asked, forcing himself to focus.
‘Oh, something of each, I think.’ She smiled. The pretty curve of her lips took her face from merely lovely to beautiful, the gold in her eyes seeming to reflect candlelight. ‘I am not being very helpful. And I certainly do not wish to disturb you at your work. I really did think you were out.’
‘No matter.’ He had gone to the stables, found all there asleep including his horse and come back again. Restless, he had decided to work on some of the paperwork he had not got to during the day.
For a moment he thought he was dreaming when Rose floated in, for he had dreamed of her more than once. Dreamed of kissing her.
But a gentleman did not kiss a lady companion.
‘I decided my time would be better employed going through one more ledger before I retired.’
She glanced at the desk. At the brandy decanter and the empty glass. Her gaze skittered away. ‘Your grandmother worries about the hours you spend working.’
He grimaced, putting distance between them, as much for his own sake as hers. ‘I have a great deal to learn and not much time to do it.’ If the Duchy wasn’t to end up in a great deal of debt. His father had worked equally hard, but Jake was fast coming to realise that his father did not have much of a head for business. He had simply followed the methods his own father had employed.
Methods that were no longer working as well as they had once done.
Each year the income had declined and each year it had declined more than the year before. There were improvements that needed making, in farming, in buildings, in husbandry. All of which took money. And the coffers, while not empty, were not up to the task, either.
Rose wandered the shelves, cocking her head from time to time to read a spine that caught her eye. The wall opposite the windows did not contain any cabinets, because of the fireplace. As she walked past it, she glanced up at the portrait covered in black crepe above the mantel and then over at him with sympathy in her gaze.
‘Another picture of your family?’
Grandmother must have told her about the one in the drawing room. ‘My mother. My father couldn’t bear to look at it.’
Understanding filled her face. ‘Your father and brother were killed in an accident, your grandmother said.’
He stiffened. So Grandmother had gone into detail. He wondered what more she had said. Whether she had spoken of who should really have been in the carriage with Father that night.
The coldness he’d felt when he learned of the accident rose up like a fog. Surrounding him. Chilling him to the bone. Guilt pressed down on his shoulders. He turned away, headed for his desk. Pushed papers around. Aware of her watching him. Aware of her sympathy.
‘You miss them,’ she said. Not a question.
Yet for some reason he could not quite fathom, he answered, ‘Like the very devil.’ He closed his eyes. ‘I beg your pardon.’
‘It is all right, Your Grace,’ she said, her voice soft but clear in the silence. ‘You don’t have to pretend around me, either.’
He shouldn’t have to pretend at all.
A moment later she was by his side, slipping her arm around his waist, leaning a cheek against his shoulder and giving him a squeeze. Never in his life had he felt such comfort. He brushed his lips against her temple, felt the beat of her heart against his ribs and knew without a doubt this was a supremely bad idea.
As they turned towards each other she tipped up her face. She was a petite woman, barely coming up to his shoulder, and while robust, there was a fragility about her. Perhaps that was the reason he felt such a need to protect her from her world.
A heartbeat later, their lips met and he wasn’t thinking at all.
He was feeling. Relishing the soft curves pressed against his chest. Enjoying the way her waist dipped beneath her ribs as his hand roamed her back. Tasting the honeyed sweetness of her mouth as their tongues tangled and danced.
