Page 132 of The Duke's Wicked Widow
They made it as far as the foyer before he pulled her to him. “Ellie, I…”
And that was as far as he managed. As far as his mind could work. Ellie was standing there, peering up at him with those trusting dark blue eyes, and every thought of his went right out the window.
With a groan of surrender he clasped the back of her neck, pulling her closer and claimed her lips with his. She made a little whimper and snaked her arms around his middle.
She felt so goddamngood, and tasted even better.
It had been too long.
The kiss didn’t last forever—it didn’t have the opportunity. They were interrupted by clapping.
Fawkes raised his head to see the strange little housekeeper—Mrs. Kettel, whom he’d met in the days since Rosie’s birth—standing beside the ancient not-quite-a-butler, Bruno. Mrs. Kettel was clapping enthusiastically, while two footmen stood behind her, hands clasped behind their backs and gazes firmly locked on the ceiling.
“Oh, dinnae mind us, dearies,” burbled Mrs. Kettel. “I always say a bit of a show does ye good, eh?” She nudged Bruno. “’S calledvoyeurism, and it keeps away the bats.”
“It does no’,” the old man corrected with a frown. “Ye’re thinking of owls.”
“Owls? Do owls do voyeurism? Perhaps I’m thinking of something else.”
“Ye’re always thinking of something else, Mrs. Kettel.”
“Sex! That’s what I was thinking of!” She brightened and clapped again. “We need more of it around here. Keeps the house healthy, timbers limber, struts strutting, that sort of thing.”
Bruno was nodding. “Shingles shangling.”
Shite. Fawkes was surrounded by madmen. Madwomen?
Muttering a curse under his breath, he dragged Ellie toward Demon’s study. Dimly, he heard Ellie call agood dayto the servants, as if she could possibly save face afterthatdisplay, before he slammed the door.
As soon as he did, Ellie burst into laughter. She threw herself against him, wrapping her arms around him and pressing her palms against his chest as she laughed into the back of his jacket.
Fawkes inhaled and held it, just reveling in the feel of her joy.
“Oh my goodness, I do not think I can look Mrs. Kettel in the face again!” she mumbled as her giggles subsided.
He pressed his hands against hers, holding them over his heart. “Keeps the house healthy?” he repeated. “She has the oddest beliefs.”
“Sex keeps the timbers limber, you know,” Ellie managed, before going off in peals of laughter again.
After what he’d just been through in the library, hearing her laughter was a balm, a relief. Feeling it through his shoulder blades. Christ, he hadn’t felt this drained in a long time.
No’ since Christmas morning, when ye slid into Ellie…
Nay, not even then. What he felt now was years of pent-up secrets, finally let loose. Even if Ellie and her sister never forgave him, he’dtoldthem the truth, and that felt… Well, notgood, exactly, but clear. He felt hollow, but without any of the ache that Ellie’s absence had given him.
Hollow, and ready to be filled by something else, Fawkes supposed.
Gently, he took Ellie’s hands in his and turned, tugging her toward the chairs in front of the smoldering hearth. The room was dark, otherwise, the lights unlit, and the only light coming from the gray late-December afternoon sky outside.
He settled into one of the chairs and pulled her down into his lap. “Is this aright?” He didn’t want to make her uncomfortable.
But she just snuggled up against him, tucking her legs across his. “This is perfect.”
Suddenly, it seemed harder to talk, to say what needed to be said, than it had been in a room full of people. But he tried.
“Ellie, I’m sorry—”
“I forgive you,” she said promptly, taking him aback.
