“Good afternoon,” he said. “Has the Duchess of Willowby left us?”
Abigail nodded. “Just now.”
“And did you have a good time?” he asked, even though he could see the answer written all over her face.
Her smile widened. “Oh, it was marvelous, Nathan!” she burst out as she came across the room toward him. “Diana is wonderful. She’s so clever and she’s been an actual practicing healer for years. She was so complimentary about my library, and then we walked the garden together and she helped me finally instruct the gardeners about what to plant and how. She also gave me some wonderful ideas about how to best utilize the greenhouse in Cornwall. I think she and the Duke of Willowby might come to visit us there. If that is agreeable to you.”
He had leaned back in his chair as she spoke, and he couldn’t help but grin. “Of course. I hoped you would get along and I’m so glad you did.”
“We are going to meet regularly,” Abigail continued. “And she has also invited me and your sister to a tea with the Duchesses, which is what everyone calls their group of friends.”
“That is an exclusive invitation,” he said. “I have never heard anything but wonderful things about their group, though. I am sure you will have a fine time and it will be good for Ophelia.”
She nodded. “Perhaps I could even help you out with the dukes. Get you in their club.”
He chuckled because it was clear she was teasing him. “A place in the famous 1797 Club. I might expire from excitement.” He waved his hands around playfully and she giggled.
But as she took a step closer to him, close enough to run her fingers down the edge of his desk, her smile fell. “Why did you…why did you do that?”
He wrinkled his brow. “Do what?”
“Arrange the meeting,” she clarified.
He held her stare as he reached out to catch her hand. He drew her closer, closer, into his lap. As she settled there, he lifted a hand to trace her cheek. “Why do you think?”
Recognition flared in her eyes, an understanding of what he was saying even if she darted her gaze away to avert it. Pretend it away. She cleared her throat. “Well, it was truly wonderful. Thank you.”
“I will do everything in my power to make you happy, Abigail,” he said. “For the rest of my life.”
She stiffened against him, and now she did force herself to look down at him. “Nathan,” she whispered. “We said that…I…I can’t…”
He ignored the sting that accompanied that truncated refusal. He had tested the waters, and while they were certainly warmer than they’d ever been, she still wasn’t ready. That was fine. He could wait.
“Don’t tell me what you can’t do,” he said softly. “I wasn’t asking for anything.”
Her brow wrinkled. “How can you not?”
“Ask for anything?”
She nodded. “I’ve been thinking a great deal about our arrangement since the argument a few days ago. You could have married a woman with connections and a dowry to add to your coffers. Instead you ended up shackled to me, a woman who drags a scandal behind her big enough that you had to create an elaborate lie to make me palatable. A woman you likely considered your enemy until recently. You share your home, your connections, your money, your time and…what do I give in return?”
“You give so much,” he said. “I like how you challenge me. Not just how we play, because we both know the wagers and the insults are all play. They’re seduction. Perhaps they have been for a long time.”
She caught her breath at that, but did not declare it untrue, so he continued, “I mean that you are so intelligent it makes me want to be more so. I mean that you are so kind and nonjudgmental, you make me want to be the same. I want to be clear: you make my life better.”
Her breath was coming short now, her fingers clenched against her lap, tears gathered in her eyes. He could see she was on the edge of running because what he said was too meaningful, too intimate. So he switched tactics.
“Also, you are remarkable in bed.”
That worked. She barked out a laugh of surprise, the tension gone from her face in a moment. Then she looked at him, playful sensuality on her face.
“Remarkable in bed, but what about not in bed?” she said. “Am I not remarkable in your study against the desk or on the settee in the parlor?”
“You were very remarkable on the settee in the parlor not that many weeks ago,” he said, massaging her thigh through her gown. Her breath caught and she ground against him slightly. “Though I wouldn’t want to try that one again until my nosy sister is out of the house.”
“Good plan,” Abigail whispered.
“However, if we lock the door, I think I would very much like to test just how remarkable you are against the desk. Or the wall. Or on the rug in front of the fire.”
She bent her head and kissed him deeply. Her fingers slid into his hair, and he felt all the desire pulsing in her. It was all a way to distract him, of course. To make space from the emotional connection she so feared. But he didn’t mind. After all, having her body was just another way he told her he loved her.
And one day, he would get to say those very words as he slid home inside of her. He knew it.
Chapter 22
Abigail smiled as her maid left the room, but the expression fell as she turned her attention back to her image in the mirror. Tonight she would host her first ball as Duchess of Gilmore. Tonight this house would fill with people who had once been her betters, people who wanted to see her fail. Of course, it would also fill with friends, old and new, but she couldn’t help but be nervous.
She made a move toward the door to begin her day and all the final preparations there still were to manage when there was a knock. She halted and said, “Come in.”
She was surprised when Ophelia stepped into the chamber. “Good morning.”
“Good morning, Ophelia. Oh, your hair looks very pretty.”
Ophelia turned her head so Abigail could see the back and the complicated twists and turns of her blonde locks. “Do you like it? I’m trying something to see if it would work for the ball tonight.”
Abigail came closer and turned her head to look closer. “It’s divine. I think it will be perfect for tonight.”
“Good.” Ophelia let out a sigh. “I admit, I’m nervous. Isn’t that funny? After attending so many balls and parties. I still find myself standing in front of my wardrobe, fighting with myself over gowns and hair.”
“You’ll do wonderfully, as you always do,” Abigail assured her. She wanted to take Ophelia’s hand as she did it, but she held back. Although the waters between them had warmed considerably in the past few days, she didn’t want to push too hard.
“Do you think you might…come look with me?” Ophelia asked. “You have a wonderful sense of style and I swear I’ve debated this until my poor maid, Laura, has started to block it all out to keep herself from going mad. I need a fresh set of eyes.”
Abigail drew back. This was the first time Ophelia had reached out to her. She certainly wasn’t going to waste the opportunity provided here. Not when their getting along meant so much to Nathan.