Page 54 of Her Beast of a Duke
“Let me take you to your chamber,” he murmured. “I will get you comfortable, yes?”
“That sounds good,” she hummed. “Although your chest is most comfortable.”
Oscar let out a quiet laugh as they both reluctantly shifted. He wrapped an arm around her waist, telling himself it was only if she stumbled in her fatigue, but the truth was that he could not bear to let her go, not yet.
They left his study, walking on through the hallway and up the stairs, to Isabella’s chamber. After a moment, Oscar entered with her. It occurred to him that he had never been in there with her. He could see she had redecorated this room, too. The curtains he had kept up for years had been taken down, replaced with gauzy fabric that let in light.
How she slept with so much sunlight on her face in the early dawn hours, he did not know.
Her bedsheets were pale and light, and he smiled at the flower arrangements she had put up around various surfaces. The whole chamber smelled beautiful, just like her.
“Do you like it?” Isabella mumbled.
“I do,” he admitted. “It is very… you.”
“You scarcely know me.”
And perhaps it was because she was tired, pleasure-addled, that he let himself answer softly, “I would like to.”
She smiled. “You can stop walking away from me, Oscar. I truly meant it when I said I am not scared of you.”
He didn’t quite know what to say to that, so instead, he got her to her bed, encouraging her to lie down. Isabella went willingly, a honey-like smile still on her lips as she gazed up at him with so much adoration he could not stand it for a moment.
But he leaned down, first pressing a kiss to her forehead, and then her cheek. After a moment’s hesitation, he pressed a chaste one to her mouth, finding it reciprocated eagerly. With a laugh, he pulled away.
“Rest,” he ordered gently.
“Have breakfast with me tomorrow,” Isabella requested, her voice almost too thick and mumbling to understand.
Still, Oscar tensed in worry. Pleasure was one thing, an exchange of bodies’ vulnerabilities, but speaking and growing emotionally closer was quite another.
“I… I must meet the tenants,” he told her. “I am sorry.”
“Do not be. I now know you have thought about having dinner together.”
Oscar let out a breath of a laugh, backing away from her bed. “Then we shall arrange it.”
He was not certain it was a lie, either. He wanted to. Heavens, he did. Still, he nodded again and then opened the door to his own chamber from within hers.
Morris was already in bed.
Oscar paused. After a second, he grabbed a pillow and left his chamber, whistling for Morris to follow him this time. Striding down the hallway, fatigued and softer than he had felt in a long time, Oscar went into the northern turret, not sweating nor fearing for his life, but knowing he did it for Isabella’s sake.
He would not disturb her tonight.
But soon, he would tell her about the nightmares.
Soon.
Chapter Thirteen
“What will you be doing while we visit Hyde Park?” Isabella asked as she exited the carriage alone.
Isabella was still having trouble deciding if everything she had experienced in Oscar’s study was a dream by the time they pulled up outside Wickleby House, her former home in London.
Having planned to return to the city for a few days, both for Oscar’s business and for Isabella to spend more time with her sisters, Isabella was quite ready to switch off and relax.
If her parents refused to bring her sisters to her, then she would go to them.
