Page 85 of The Lyon Whisperer
“There’s a large, grassy area behind the coach house.”
They walked around the building and set the dogs down.
He eyed his wife. Her frequent walks. The sound of her door opening and closing in the night. Her refusal to spend the entire night in his bed coupled with her insistence she visit his room and never the reverse.
It all made perfect sense.
Now that he was no longer fuming, he grew aware of the cold, dew-dampened gravel biting into his feet. Next time he would have to wear slippers.
The dogs seemed oblivious to the fact it was the dead of night. In addition to seeing to their needs, they frolicked, rolling one another, nipping each other’s tails, one chasing the others in a never-ending round of tag.
At one point when it appeared they might go on a long tear, Chase snapped his fingers and the three dutifully returned to the immediate area.
“How long did you expect this to go on without me knowing, Amelia?” he asked, keeping his voice low so as not to wake the household.
The household. God’s teeth, how many of the servants knew she kept secrets from him?
“You make it sound as if I were hiding them from you.”
He stared at her, the meaning behind his silence clear. Shewashiding them from him, or had been.
“I wasn’t hiding them, per se. I simply did not mention them.”
“And I told you not to bring them.”
She did not so much as flinch at the steel in his voice. She drew herself upright and lifted her chin.
Her skin was luminescent in the silvery moonlight. Somewhere along the way, she had lost the lacy cap she used to restrain her hair. The loose knot at her nape hung askew and tendrils of inky black hair framed her delicate face.
Bloody beautiful, as always. He wanted to take her. Right here, right now.
“You said they could not be in the manse. No puppies running around, and I quote, the manse,” she repeated for emphasis.
“I see.”
Roddy, the one-eyed, smallest pup in the litter pawed at his foot.
“Yes?” Chase asked him.
He drew himself up on his two back feet, raising his front paws as if demanding to be picked up. Chase snorted and hoisted first Roddy, then a second pup, tucking one under each arm. “Come along, then.”
Amelia obediently retrieved the third pup and followed Chase back to the coach house.
They shut the pups into their small, enclosed space without speaking.
Amelia, of course, cooed and praised the puppies when they nestled into one another, evidently exhausted from their recent feeding and play time.
They proceeded in lengthening silence to the house, retracing their steps across courtyard, into the kitchens, through the manse, and up the grand staircase.
When they neared Amelia’s door, she reached for the door lever, issuing a breathless, “Goodnight, my lord.”
Chase placed a hand on her shoulder. “We need to talk. My chamber or yours?”
Chapter Nineteen
Amelia felt thewarmth of Chase’s palm on her shoulder all the way to her toes. She’d been half afraid he would insist on speaking with her immediately, and half afraid he would not.
The truth was, she was not ready to say goodnight. Nor did she wish to argue. She wanted him to make love to her with a desperation that shook her to the core. She doubted he would appreciate the unladylike sentiment, however.
