Page 42 of My Dark Duke

“Not as often as I should,” he admitted, grabbing her hand and lifting it to his mouth, to place a kiss upon it. “I am usually accused of running to fat, whenever I venture in.”

“I wonder what he would say, if he saw my stomach,” Lillian laughed, poking at it with her finger. Though she was slender, her stomach was soft, especially when compared with his.

“He shall never have the opportunity to see you in such a state of undress,” the duke replied, his tone less amused. “Besides, you are perfect. A vision of feminine beauty.”

Lillian rolled her eyes at his ridiculous possessiveness; it was highly unlikely she would ever waltz into Gentleman Jackson’s club and request he assess her physique. There was no need for him to take such umbrage with what had been a joke.

She did not get a chance to voice her chagrin, for the bells of St George’s rang out the hour, causing Thorncastle to start.

“I forgot the time,” he said, offering her an apologetic glance. “I am required in the House of Lords; there is a vote on a member’s bill.”

He pulled her into his arms one last time, for a slow lingering kiss, before letting her go with a sigh.

“I would stay here all day if I could,” he said, as he threw back the covers. “Once the season has ended, we shall retire to the countryside, where I will have fewer duties to attend to.”

Lillian watched him as he padded across the room, to where his clothes were strewn. He was unabashed by his nakedness - though, given his fine physique, one could understand why. He was built like a Greek statue; broad shoulders, narrow hips, muscular thighs and calves. Though, unlike a Greek statue, Thorncastle’s skin was gold and peppered with whorls of dark curls.

“Are you enjoying the show?” the duke queried, as he caught her spying on him as he dressed.

Lillian grinned, unashamed. “Very much,” she answered, tartly. “I am hoping you will stage a repeat performance.”

“I’m dedicated to my craft, Miss Smith,” he said, with feigned formality. “I shall endeavour to perform for you nightly.”

“With an afternoon showing on a Saturday,” she finished, earning herself an amused chuckle.

“I believe you shall have me worked to the bone, my dear,” he said, loosely tying his cravat, as he returned to her.

His disheveled appearance afforded him a rakish air; dark stubble shadowed his jaw, his thick locks fell over one eye, and his unbuttoned collar offered a faint glimpse of chest hair.

“Careful,” Lillian cautioned, as he leaned over her. “Or I shall undo all your good work and demand you undress again.”

Thorncastle closed his eyes, as he inhaled a sharp breath. When he opened them, he looked no more in control than before.

“I will acquiesce to any demands you make of me,” he whispered, sounding almost mournful.

“Then I shall not make unreasonable ones,” Lillian answered lightly, to break the mood. “You have your duties to Parliament, far be it for me to stand in the way of governance. Go, vote on your bill - just promise you’ll return to me later.”

“I will always return to you,” he said, dropping a kiss upon her lips.

Though he sounded sincere, Lillian was not foolish enough to take him at his word. The permanence of his affection was no certain thing, she would be silly to fall for platitudes.

“Go,” she said, waving her hands to urge him away. “You cannot waltz into Westminster with half your buttons undone. While I appreciate your half-dressed state, I do not think your peers will.”

“One or two might,” Sebastian jested, though he heeded her advice and returned to finish dressing.

When he was done - and following several deep kisses - he took his leave, leaving Lillian alone.

She remained in bed for a while, allowing her mind to wander over the previous night - to assess it piece by piece. So much had happened, so much had been said, yet in the end, it had only taken her a moment to decide to give herself to Thorncastle.

Another life changing decision, made on a whim.

A knock upon the door stirred her from her reverie.

“Come in,” she called, and Polly pushed the door open.

“Shall I send Maude up with water for a bath?” she questioned, her face betraying no sign she knew just what Lillian had been up to all night.

“Please,” Lillian nodded; a bath sounded divine.

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