Page 12 of Her Sinful Duke

“Take care of yourself, my dear sister,” Adeline whispered, her voice tinged with sadness.

“And you, too,” Penelope replied, her voice catching slightly with the same emotion. “Don’t forget what we agreed.”

“I will not.” Adeline’s face lit up at those words.

The duke proceeded to bid them farewell, too, and then Penelope’s family had gone, leaving her with a stranger as her new family. But she did not have any time to start feeling uneasy or restless. More guests were leaving, and she had to play the part of the good host, the dutiful new duchess, thanking them for their time and wishes before their departure.

CHAPTER7

James wondered if he should even be there. It was the middle of the night. All the guests had gone home. All the servants were in their quarters. His new wife was in her chamber. Only he was not where he was supposed to be. But… where was that?

He found himself standing outside his wife’s door, the grandeur of the hallway around him fading into insignificance as he hesitated before the closed entrance. Thoughts swirled within him like a tempestuous sea, each one vying for dominance over the other.

Did he have to knock? Was she sleeping or was she awake? Should he intrude upon her solitude on this night, the first night of staying in her new home? Even if he did knock, would she welcome his presence, or would she recoil from it, closing the door in his face?

A torrent of uncertainty washed over him, threatening to overwhelm his resolve. But amidst the tumult of his thoughts, a single impulse rose above the rest — a longing, a yearning, an undeniable desire to see her, to touch her, to inhale the scent that was the essence of her.

With a decisive motion, he raised his hand and rapped gently against the polished wood, the sound echoing through the quiet corridor like a whispered plea.

And then, he waited.

The silence stretched on, pregnant with anticipation, until finally, the faint sound of movement emanated from within. James held his breath, his heart pounding in his chest as the door creaked open, revealing the dimly lit chamber beyond. Their eyes met in the muted lamplight, a silent exchange fraught with unspoken truths and unfulfilled promises.

“Yes?”

He could never imagine that just the very sound of someone’s voice would have such an effect on him. All the little hairs on his body rose as his ears were caressed by the melodious sound of her voice.

“May I come in?” he asked before even clarifying why he was there, out of fear that she might close the door immediately, not letting him in.

She hesitated. He noticed it. But a moment later, she moved to the side to let him in. As he did so, she closed the door, and he turned to her, their eyes locking. He swallowed heavily, unprepared for the sight that unraveled before him.

Her nightgown was a cascade of delicate fabric that enveloped her slender form, like a present he yearned to unwrap so desperately. Her long hair fell down her back in waves, a silken curtain that framed her delicate features with an ethereal glow. Her face, bathed in the gentle flicker of the flames, held an otherworldly beauty that seemed to transcend mortal existence. Her eyes, pools of shimmering darkness, reflected the candlelight with a mesmerizing intensity that held him captive for much longer than he was willing to admit.

She walked around him, moving to the center of the room with quiet confidence as the fabric of her nightgown rustled softly against her skin, accentuating the subtle curves of her figure in a tantalizing dance of shadow and light. He noticed that she had opened the window, and the sounds of the night filled the room.

From the shadows, he watched her with an intensity that bordered on reverence, his heart swelling with a mixture of longing and admiration. At that moment, bathed in the soft glow of candlelight, she was the epitome of loveliness — a vision of purity and grace that stirred something deep within him.

“Was there something Your Grace wanted?” she asked, her voice down to a titillating whisper.

He wanted to walk over to her, cup her face with his hands, and drink in her warm breath, making her his. But he knew that he had to go slowly. He could not frighten her by ravaging her on their first night, no matter how much he wanted to.

“James,” he corrected her. She immediately lifted her eyebrow in confusion. He clarified. “Not Your Grace. James is fine. We are married, after all.”

“James,” she nodded. “Was there something you wanted?”

Yes, there was much something he wanted, and he would have taken it right then and there, but she was so innocent, so lovely that he feared taking her and breaking her in the process. No. He had to do it tenderly, slowly, build his way to her, so she would give all of herself to him.

For the purpose of an heir and nothing else,a small voice inside of him forced him to remember. He agreed, of course. That was the only reason he was doing this. Nothing else. Fortunately, the fact that his new wife was beautiful and desirable made that process so much easier.

“Just to see if you are all right,” he said softly.

“I am, thank you,” she nodded. He could see that she was trembling.

He took a step closer to her. “Are you cold?”

“No,” she shook her head, rubbing her upper arm with her other hand. “Just… sleepy.”

Now, they were standing dangerously close. He could sense it as much as she could. Yet, he could not tear himself away from her. He felt that was where he needed to be. There and nowhere else.

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