Page 44 of The Duke's Wicked Widow
Although the midwife claimed the pregnancy was progressing, thanks to Georgia’s constant rest, Ellie’s heart was as heavy as the clouds outside the window, which heralded snow in the not-so-distant future.
Or, this being London, sleet.
Or miserably cold drizzle.
Half the staff had the sniffles—Ellie’s lips twitched at the memory of Fawkes explaining “boy sniffles” to Merida—and it was beginning to feel as if they’d all be locked inside until next spring.
London in the winter was really quite horrible, wasn’t it?
And yet…
Ellie pushed the chair away from her desk and crossed to the window, pencil still twirling between her fingers. Her other hand pressed flat against the cold pane of glass as she looked out over the square.
That little patch of green—or rather, snow-covered-green—had made Merida sohappy. There was so much joy in the outdoors, in the growing things that Ellie’s sister Georgia loved so much… Merida deserved that.
Deserved so much more than Ellie could give her.
Seeing the joy on her face yesterday when Fawkes had rescued that puppy… Actually, the entire outing had been wonderfully fun, hadn’t it? Merida had certainly enjoyed herself, and Ellie had to admit there had been something almostcozyabout being escorted about by a man like him.
No, nota man like him. Just…him. Just Fawkes.
She’d enjoyed talking to him, hearing his wit and soft compliments. Seeing his kindnesses. Seeing the way he didn’t dismiss Merida—even her silly jokes—but chuckled at the appropriate moment, treating the girl like her thoughts and sentences were valid.
Not even Rufus had treated Merida that way.
Fawkes had stepped into a dangerous situation to save a mere mutt, and the sight of him—after she and Merida had said their goodbyes and entered the house—resignedly scooping up the shivering dog to tuck under his greatcoat and trudging off in the direction of his flat, had kept her smiling all evening.
He was…nice.
In the Aycock family Fawkes’s name was rarely spoken, andno onementioned his mother; the earl’s disgraced older half-sister who’d hidden herself in Scotland. When Fawkes was mentioned it was dismissively, with a disgusted sniff at a working-class man who’d had to get his hands dirty withemploymentto support his mother.
But she also knew he was friends to powerful people, like Thorne and the Duke of Effinghell. She trusted their judgement.
And he was achemist. That wasn’t unsavory, it was barely employment, it was just…a profession. Perhaps not as noble as a doctor or surgeon, but he helped people, didn’t he? And yes, he might not have as much money as the Society bucks, but he was a gentleman by birth and habits—his actions yesterday made that clear.
Ellie realized she was no longer staring out at the square, but rather her reflection in the window.
Just like the first night she’d gone to him, when he’d commanded she watch as hefookedher.
You enjoyed that. Too much, which is why—even now—you are considering going back to him, yes? He might be a gentleman, but he knows far more about your body than even you do.
Yes.
Yes, she wanted him again.
But he hadn’t come to her.
Yes, he did. He was sitting in that square as if he had been there plenty of times before.
Had he come to Cumnock house…to watch? He hadn’t taken her invitation to join her in her bed?
Perhaps you were not entirely clear with your request. Perhaps you should return to him.
Squeezing her eyes shut, Ellie dropped her forehead against the glass.
Perhapsshe should get back to work on these puzzles. Georgia and Demon and the others were counting on her.
Think, Ellie.
