Page 47 of Rules for Heiresses
His careful school notes scattered across the lake? He’d come here.
Worms dumped beneath his bedsheets? He’d come here.
And each time, he’d left his rage, his fear, his pain at the door. The fist around his chest loosened as the fragrant air enveloped him and the sweeping stained-glass panels crested above him. The flowers, shrubs, and vines were lit only by moonlight, giving them a silvery cast that was no less beautiful than their natural coloring. It felt as though he were inside some forbidden fairy-tale forest. A reluctant smile curled his lip. He hadn’t had such a fanciful thought in a decade.
He wished Ravenna could see it.
A soft noise behind him made him turn, and there she was framed in the arched doorway, as though his unvoiced desire had summoned her. His wife. Hisduchess.
Gilded in opalescent moonlight, she was the undisputed fairy queen of this vale. Her burnished auburn hair looked dark, her creamy skin dappled in shades of silver, that stunning dress of hers draping her beautiful body in seductive lines. His heart climbed into his throat, the blood thickening in his veins. Courtland didn’t want to speak. Didn’t want to disturb the thrall of this place. For the first time since he’d arrived in England, his soul felt at ease.
“I followed you,” his wife said softly. “Do you wish to be alone?”
“No.”
“Good, because I’m afraid I might no longer welcome at the party.”
He frowned. “How so?”
A smile trembled over those lush lips before she tugged the lower one into her mouth. “I might have called your stepmonster a bigot and told her karma was coming for her arse.”
Courtland couldn’t help it; he chuckled, and it felt like a huge weight had lifted off his chest. “You did?”
“I did. Andthenwhen she threatened to throw me out, I might have said you owned this house and everything in it.”
“Is that so?” he said, smiling, his heart giving a slow, aching throb.
“There’s more,” she whispered, eyelashes falling. “ThenI told her that I had to go find you because she has the intelligence of a rock.”
Courtland barked a laugh. He’d have given anything to see his stepmother’s face. After the rest of her confession, his wife didn’t say any more, standing there like a woodland nymph, eyes darting around the space, catching on a wide-frond palm and then flicking up to the vaulted glass before returning to him.
“This is beautiful,” she said softly.
“My grandfather built it,” he said. “They said it was his favorite place when he was in town. It was meant to be a reflection of the gardens at Ashvale Park.”
“I remember.” Courtland caught the gleam of her eyes, the expression in them hidden by the dimness, but heard the amusement in her voice. “My mother was ever so jealous of the duke’s grounds, constantly berating our gardeners to achieve the same level of splendor. She never succeeded, of course. Your grandfather had exquisite taste and an eye for design that no one could replicate.” She gave a tiny laugh. “Not even horticultural experts brought in from France and Italy. Trust me, Mama tried for years to best him before giving up in defeat.”
Courtland prowled toward her, noticing the slight hitch in her breath at his approach. When he stood an arm’s length away, he held out his ungloved hand. Whether she took it or not would be up to her, but if she did, all bets were off. Heneededher more than he needed breath in his lungs.
His wife stared at his calloused palm, the seconds trudging on, his pulse drumming in his ears. For a shaky heartbeat, he almost snatched his hand back out of reach. What was hedoing? He’d promised himself to stay away and here he was…begging for her touch. He moved to retract his hand, curling his fingers into a fist.
“Wait, don’t,” she whispered.
Curious, he stared at her as she dropped her fan and reticule onto a nearby bench, and then proceeded to unbutton the tiny clasps of her left glove. In a daze, Courtland watched, mesmerized, his breath seizing at the pop of every button, his groin clenching at the inch-by-inch reveal of pale, unblemished skin when the ivory kidskin parted. By the time she finished the first and was done with the second, his entire body was on edge.
“There,” she said, discarding both gloves with the rest of her belongings. “Now that’s better.”
With that, warm fingers slid over his, the bare rasp of skin against skin so erotic that a groan nearly spilled past his lips. She laced their fingers together. Courtland closed his hand around hers and pulled her in, hard enough to feel her intake of breath. “You shouldn’t have done that,” he growled.
“Done what?”
“Undressed.”
“Then don’t let my efforts be in vain.” A wicked smile lit her beautiful face.
It was his turn to be confused. “What do you mean?”
“Follow me and find out, why don’t you?”
