He couldn’t begin to understand what might be going through her mind just then. From birth, he had been revered as the future duke, and then once assuming the title, he’d been showered with praise and opportunity. Eliza, meanwhile, had been fed a steady stream of disapproval. Why should she believe him now?
“I must understand something first. Our agreement will still hold, yes?”
He studied her face, delved into her gaze. Why was it so important that he get her with child? She was adamant about it, and yet, he couldn’t quite grasp why.
“Yes, of course,” he answered quickly. “I shall never go back on my word.”
She continued to watch him, warily now, and practicality took over for emotion. He nudged her plate.
“I know you did not sleep well last night, and you need sustenance. Please eat. Cook really is a master at gravies.”
She reached up a tentative hand to grasp her fork again, and this time she speared a piece of hen and brought it to her mouth. She made no sign she enjoyed it, but she took another bite and another. Carefully, he picked up his own fork and resumed eating.
Henry’s snores filled the silence between them as the dog had collapsed next to his empty dish, rolled on his back to stick his paws happily in the air.
Next he looked up she had cleared her plate and was replacing her napkin in her lap. She met his gaze directly.
“Thank you,” she said.
He raised an eyebrow.
“For bringing up the tray. That was considerate of you.”
He realized a truce hung between them. A shaky, fragile one it might be, but it was still a truce, and he would do everything he could to make the most of it.
The clock on the mantel chimed the hour.
“It’s quite late,” he said, and the sentence hung between them.
He was really asking if she wanted him to stay.
God, he wanted to stay. He wanted a chance to right the wrongs he had committed on their wedding night. He wanted the chance to show her how desirable she was. To prove to her she was worthy.
Worthy of what though?
He swallowed, realizing he’d come so close to admitting he was falling in love with her.
“It is.” She pushed back her chair, set her napkin aside. She looked directly at him. “Will you help me extinguish the candles?”
Her lips were soft, and her gaze knowing. She was asking him to stay.
“Yes, of course,” he said and got to his feet.
Chapter 9
She had promised to give him a second chance, but just because her mind agreed to something did not mean her body listened to it. She shed her dressing gown and slipped between the covers of the opulent bed while his back was turned, extinguishing the last of the candles along the mantel.
The fire still crackled, and it cast a yellow glow about the room, softening edges and muting colors.
“Oh.” She hadn’t meant to make a noise, but she suddenly sank in the divine heaven of the mattress.
Ashbourne whirled as if she’d startled him, but a smile soon came to his lips.
“The mattresses are made here. They’re quite luxurious, are they not?”
For the first time, she realized she was in danger of immediately falling asleep. Her body ached from the journey, and the large meal and warm bath had only helped increase her sense of fatigue. But she couldn’t fall asleep. They had an agreement, and she expected them both to comply.
Safely under the bedclothes, she could look her fill of her husband and his undressed state as much as she pleased for she was fairly certain he couldn’t make out her features in the near darkness now.
He had entered her room in nothing but trousers and a shirt. Even his feet were bare. She could see his toes, and she’d never found toes so enticing. He gave Henry a scratch before heading in her direction, and the dog did nothing more than fumble a snore.
“What is it that you fed him?”
He stopped short of the bed at her question.
“The stable lad’s father keeps the hounds for the Earl of Dobbin across the way. He swears by feeding the hounds the purest of food, so only meat straight from a fresh kill.” He pointed at Henry’s sleeping form. “The dog, I fear, ate better than we did this evening.”
“You mean it’s given to them uncooked?”
He perched on the bed still fully clothed. “It is. I can’t say I would enjoy it, but Henry didn’t seem to mind.”
“Fascinating. Do you think perhaps I could meet the stable boy’s father?”
Ashbourne laughed softly, but it was a warm sound, not a teasing one, as if he’d found her delightful. “I can see to that if you’d like.”
“I would enjoy that very much.”
The crackle of the fire was the only sound for several seconds, and then she felt Ashbourne’s gaze on her. She moved her attention from Henry to her husband.
He studied her carefully, and she wanted to squirm under his attention.
While he’d explained what he had meant when speaking with the Duke of Waverly the previous night, it still did not assuage her fears. She had been speaking the truth when she said she didn’t believe him. How could she when what she had overheard was precisely what she’d been hearing from so many of the ton for so long?
Except he’d been honest with her when the laws of marriage required he needn’t be. That coupled with everything else he had done for her left her wondering.
“Our agreement suggests there should be far fewer clothes between us.”
His voice had turned deep and coaxing, and unbidden, a heat coiled low in her stomach.
“Yes, of course.” She swallowed. “I can close my eyes to give you privacy until you are beneath the bedclothes.”
She had nearly shut her eyes when his words stopped her.
“You don’t want to watch?”
She was watching now but not because of any sort of conscious effort.
“Watch?”
His smile was warm, teasing. “I’ve heard some women enjoy such things.”
She thought of his toes and licked her lips.
“I don’t think that will be necessary.” Except she didn’t close her eyes.
“Are you certain?” His fingers began to undo the buttons of his shirt, one solitary button at time.
She watched his fingers, mesmerized.
“Yes, yes, I’m quite certain.”
With each button he revealed an inch of warm, enticing skin. Before long the smoothness of his collarbones was replaced with a dark mat of hair she had not anticipated. She may have lain with this man once before, but she remembered hardly any of it. It had been so brief and disappointing.
But now she watched as each button slipped free, revealing her husband in his entirety. She had expected broad shoulders, but she hadn’t expected the scar that ran the length of his right one. She’d expected sculpted muscle as she’d felt it beneath the contour of his jacket when they danced, but she hadn’t expected the way his hips would taper and narrow until they slipped into the confines of his trousers.
His fingers went there now, deftly undoing the buttons, and she must have whimpered or made a sound because he stopped and met her gaze. She snapped her eyes shut but not because he’d caught her looking, but because she feared she couldn’t take anymore.