Page 84 of Trapped with her Cruel Duke

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“You look untidy,” she replied, pulling at the ends of his cravat, which were already a little loose. She untied a section of it and then retied it so that it was straight.

Christian allowed it, lifting his chin as though she were his valet, and she smiled softly as he did so. She tied the ends and stepped back as he looked at himself in the mirror. His frown deepened as he touched his cravat reverently.

“How did you do that? I can never get the damned thing to sit right.”

“At least you look presentable now,” she said softly.

He turned back to her, the hurt look lingering on his face.

“Come,” she urged. “I want to show you something.”

Louise gently took his hand and led him out of the study, toward the library. There was something fragile and new between them now that she could not name, but she was desperate to hold on to it for a little bit longer.

As soon as they entered the library, Jack started mewing at them and trotted toward them. To Louise’s surprise, Christian bent down to pick him up and cradled him in his arms, and the kitten instantly settled.

Louise smiled at them both as she indicated the little writing desk where she had finally finished her drawings.

“I wanted to show you my encyclopedia,” she said, suddenly feeling embarrassed and wondering if Christian would have any interest in it.

He raised his eyebrows, moving to the pile of parchment. After eyeing it for a few seconds, he extended a hand and began to leaf through the pages while holding Jack in the other.

“Did you paint these?” he asked, leafing through the drawings with gentle care.

“I did.”

Christian dropped the paper, his fingers flexing before he stepped away, his jaw tight. “I am sure my brother has already given his opinion—you do not need mine.”

Louise sighed. “I have not shown them to Marcus yet.”

Christian looked over at her in amazement. “But you told him he would be the first person to see your encyclopedia.”

Louise held his gaze, trying to nurture the connection she could feel between them.

“When I promised him that, I did not believe you would be interested,” she murmured, picking up the book and walking over to the chairs before the fireplace. “Would you like to be the first to see it? I am almost finished with this category.”

Christian stood staring at the book, motionless, his head tilted to the side, before he joined her.

“It would be my honor,” he said wistfully as he rang the bell for a servant.

A footman walked into the room, and Christian handed Jack to him, asking that the kitten be tucked in his bed in the kitchens for the night.

After the footman had left, Christian settled beside his wife, his movements slow and measured as she smiled and opened the book, turning to the first page.

Over the next hour or so, she outlined everything she intended to do with the book. She spoke of the categories she had chosen and the specifics of the flowers that she wanted to illustrate. Christian made some pertinent points and asked many questions. He was interested in everything.

As they reached the final drawing of the Gallic rose, Louise passed it to him, and Christian admired it just as he had all the others.

“Beautiful. I think this might be my favorite. But where is its subject?” he asked curiously, glancing around the room.

“I am afraid it has withered now. They do not survive long once they are cut.”

Christian placed the drawing back in the book with delicate care.

“You know,” he said thoughtfully, “my estate in Derbyshire is rather large. We could build a greenhouse, and you could grow them all year round if you would like.”

Louise’s heart swelled at the twinkle in his eyes.

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