Page 60 of Wedded to the Ruthless Duke

The thought irritated him more than before.

As he reached the hallway, he found the butler waiting for him.

“The carriage is ready, Your Grace,” the butler said kindly.

“Thank you. We won’t be long now. Why don’t you retire for dinner?”

“Thank you, Your Grace.” The butler bowed and left, disappearing through the nearest door that led to the servants’ stairwell.

Philip peered out of the open door to see that the carriage was indeed on the gravel drive, awaiting them. The driver and footman were all in place with the door of the carriage even open, waiting for him and Grace to climb inside.

Philip reached for the waistcoat he kept in his pocket and checked the time. It was bang on seven o’clock. It was exactly the time they needed to leave.

He turned and looked back at the staircase, but there was no sign of Grace at all.

“Damn,” Philip muttered under his breath as he started to pace. “I should have added a rule about her being punctual for events.”

He turned to face the hall mirror, somewhat struggling to stand still at all. He adjusted his cravat a little, making it just that inch more perfect. Then he checked his pocket watch again. It was now two minutes past.

We’re late.

He paced once more. He itched, scratching his chin and running his hand through his hair, now realizing that he should have kept the butler here, so he could go and find Mrs. Williamson and ask her to check on what was keeping Grace.

Wait… we are husband and wife now. I can simply go to her chamber and find out for myself what is taking her so long.

He waited another minute, but when the hands of his pocket watch showed four minutes past, he lost all patience. He turned sharply back toward the staircase and marched toward it.

His first footstep on the bottom step, however, was matched by another step, much higher. He froze, his body feeling it turned to an icicle as he looked up at the bearer of that step.

It was Grace. She was here at last.

Her eyes found his as she took hold of the banister and walked down the stairs though his gaze could not possibly stay on her face, for he was taking in every inch of her.

Her honey hair was curled beautifully, fastened into an updo high at the back of her head, so it cascaded down and emphasized the curve of her neck. A thick ribbon necklace hid the place where he had left a kissing mark upon her the night before.

The deep burgundy material was a shock indeed. The fashion for ladies of thetonmay have been pastel, but Philip didn’t care in that moment. The deep burgundy suited Grace perfectly, contrasting the tanned hue of her skin and her honey hair.

What had Philip’s mouth turning completely dry though was the cut of the dress. Unlike any of the frilly or oversized gowns he had often seen her wear, this one was completely fitted.

It hugged her breasts perfectly, the deep ‘v’ neckline revealing her round and perfect cleavage. The empire line of her gown stretched a bit deep down her ribcage, emphasizing how slim her waist was compared to the voluptuous curve of her hips. The burgundy silk skimmed those hips, taunting him with what was hidden beneath.

She looked down as she walked, picking up her skirt a little to reveal not only her burgundy shoes and a flash of ankle but even the curve of her calf.

A rumbling started in Philip’s chest, a rumbling he was sure would not be satisfied until he took Grace in that dress.

“That’s quite a look,” Grace whispered as she stopped in front of him, just two steps up so she was at his head height.

He swallowed, struggling to phrase any words at all.

“That’s what you’re wearing tonight?”

CHAPTER20

Grace felt her stomach knot tight. Despite the look Philip was giving her, as if he’d like to do nothing more than tear the gown right off her, those words were something her mother would have uttered.

Fury shot through her as she swept around him.

“Yes, I am wearing this gown,” she said tartly. “Celia helped me with it.”

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