Page 51 of The Duke Says I Do
“What is it, then?”
Her grip on his arm tightened, and she shifted to face him. The patrician features were clouded with worry.
“There’s nobody around. It feels like a good time to kiss me.”
Astonished joy filled his expression. And a good dose of relief. He’d definitely been worried that she meant to withdraw from their arrangement. “I don’t deserve you.”
He loosely knotted the reins over the bar at the front of the carriage and slid his arms around her. She sank into immediate heat and a security which was absurd. But every time he touched her, she couldn’t help thinking that everything was going to be wonderful.
His lips explored hers with a thoroughness that set her blood rushing and stirred up that now familiar weight in the pit of her stomach. It was both alarming and thrilling to think that soon he’d fill that emptiness inside her, the ache that had started the first time he’d kissed her.
By the time they drew apart, both were panting. His smart gray hat had fallen to the floor of the carriage.
“Oh, my,” she sighed, opening dazed eyes. She shaped her gloved hand to that chiseled jaw. “This last week has been endless.”
“Hasn’t it just?” His lips quirked in self-deprecation. “Every time I saw you, I was tempted to steal you away and to hell with the consequences.”
An elated smile lifted her lips, as her heart expanded against her ribs. “Now you have stolen me away.”
His answering smile was free of all restraint, as it so rarely was. “Lucky me.”
***
The evening drew in as the curricle turned between a set of gates and followed a winding avenue of lime trees. Portia tightened her hold on Alaric’s arm, as the house came into view past a mellow brick wall and another gate.
“It’s lovely,” she said.
The lodge was four floors high, with a pavilion on the roof. Pairs of tall casement windows formed symmetrical lines along the cream stone façade. A graceful double staircase rose to a door beneath a carved pediment. Forest encroached on the garden, emphasizing the fairy-tale atmosphere.
Alaric drew the tired horses up on the gravel turning circle. “One of my ancestors built it for his mistress in the reign of Charles II. The story is that he wanted to keep her out of the king’s clutches.”
“Did he succeed?”
“By all reports, he did. He married her, once he was free to do so. It caused an almighty scandal.”
So this had always been a house for lovers. It still was. Alaric didn’t love her, but Portia loved him enough to make up for that. “How romantic.”
Alaric’s smile held no shadows. “It was rather. She was a parliamentarian’s daughter who gave up everything to follow her heart. She ended up a countess.” He looped the reins over the bar at the front of the carriage and descended from his seat. “Let me help you down.”
She held out her hand, experiencing the familiar jolt of awareness when his fingers curled around hers. “Do you come here much?”
“Not often.” His sly look set a host of butterflies fluttering inside her. “But that may change.”
A huff of amusement escaped. “Now you have a mistress of your own?”
Wry humor twisted his lips, as she stepped down from the carriage. “Now I have need of a bower that offers privacy I lack in London.”
After sitting so long, her knees were stiff and she stumbled. Alaric easily caught her and drew her into his side. When his arm circled her, she nestled closer. The air grew colder, and he was so big and warm.
“You must be cold. Shall I take you inside? I’ll settle the horses then follow you in.”
She tipped her face to gaze at him. She couldn’t help smiling, which didn’t say much about her grip on morality. Here she was, ready to be ravished by a man who wasn’t her husband, and she’d never been so happy in her life.
“Let me come with you. Many hands make light work, after all.” She didn’t want to be parted from him, not even for the half hour that he needed to care for his horses.
She and Alaric had a mere three nights together. He already spoke as if they’d come back here. Knowing that he planned to continue their affair after this rendezvous was reassuring. But she knew the world well enough to recognize that another opportunity to meet mightn’t arise in a hurry.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked, then laughed. “As every lover since Adam has asked the woman he wants.”
