Page 44 of Hawthorne

“Well, if you never get to be king, I’ll just keep living my best life then,” Edgar says. I can hear his voice and understand what he’s saying, but I am not paying much attention. Everything around Vincent is a blur at this point.

All I can think about is him, and what we done and how good it felt.

“What’s going on?” Edgar’s voice had risen a few octaves, snapping me—and Vincent, it seems—out of the trance.

Vincent’s head snaps to the side, looking at his brother, slightly alarmed, while I stand flustered at the realisation that we’ve probably been caught.

So much for keeping it between the both of us.

Damn hormones.

“I-if you don’t need me any longer, I’ll go. It was lovely to see you, Your Grace.” I bow and turn around, heading for the door.

“I’d like you to meet me in my office after lunch, Camilla. We have to go through the menu,” Vincent lies.

Nonetheless, I nod and exit quietly, leaning against the wall again for a moment. Just enough to take a deep breath and ground myself.

Instead, it allows me to eavesdrop.

“You have the hots for the housekeeper,” Edgar exclaims cheerfully. “If Mother were to find out, she’d throw a huge fit. I dare say, disown you! Oh god, this is outrageous! I love it!”

“Shut up, Edgar,” Vincent answers, clearly aggravated.

This is bad, but I can’t help but giggle silently at the brother’s antics, purposefully choosing to ignore the huge consequences that will come out from this. Because they will; it’s just a matter of time, and all I can do is prepare myself.

14

Camilla White

After leaving the brothers to their own time together, I kept myself busy for the remainder of the day. Once everything is finished properly, I walk to the kitchen and look at the watch. It’s way past ten in the evening.

No wonder no one is around anymore. At least, not a living soul is seen or heard in this giant house. Not even the duke.

It’s late, and I am so tired that the only thing I can think of is my fluffy, cosy bed. Especially after not having slept last night.

The last stretch from the kitchen to my bedroom feels like torture, with my body close to shutting down due to exhaustion. Opening the door, I walk inside. With one hand on the doorknob, the other is already on my button-up, ready to open it up.

However, before I can shut the door, something blocks it. Confused, I look down to see what’s wrong, only to find an expensive shoe wedged between the door and the frame.

Then it opens slightly, and the light movement is enough to make me let go of the door and stumble back a couple of steps.

“Sweet Camilla,” Vincent’s husky voice chills my bones while it warms my skin. “And here I thought you’d be meeting me upstairs.”

“Your Grace, you didn’t say you wanted me to–”

“Let’s make one thing clear then,” the duke closes the door behind him and locks it. Then, he slowly takes a step forward in my direction. His movements resemble the way a lion stalks its prey—steady but slowly. “I’d have you in my bed every single night if possible.”

His arm stretches to me, and the pad of his index traces my cheek. It lowers, following my jawline until it reaches my chin, where it continues toward my neck and ends up on my collarbone. That act alone leaves a strong trail of goosebumps behind, putting my nerve endings on edge.

His hungry eyes jump between mine and the trails his finger is tracing.

The drowsiness from the exhaustion lifts upon his touch, bringing my body back to life, making me forget completely that I am dishevelled with huge, dark circles under my eyes. Yet, he still looks at me like a starved animal.

What does he see in me?

“But—”

“Night has fallen, sweet girl.” A couple of buttons are popped open, and I do nothing to stop him.I want it, too.“It’s time to take things to my bed. Now, be a good girl and turn around so I can unzip this skirt.”

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