Page 53 of In Need of a Duke
“The night! Surely you could stay two?”
Kate glanced toward Gabriel who shrugged. “Whatever ye wish, Kate.”
She spun and waggled her brows. “He gives the best answers. Two nights it is.”
Her husband’s low chuckle reverberated around the empty space.
“Well come in. Make yourselves comfortable. Let me see to Ian, and then I will have tea and refreshments brought to the parlor.”
Charlotte grabbed Ian’s arm, but he quickly withdrew it on a hiss.
“Oh, sorry,” she whispered, her eyes wide at the pain etched in his face. “Come along. Are you sure you’re well? You look horrible.”
“Jessus Christ,” he cursed. But his lip was far too swollen. “Fine,” he settled on at last.
She glanced over her shoulder as Gabriel drew Kate into his arms and dropped a tender kiss on top of her forehead. Pride swelled in Charlotte’s chest, followed closely by the echo of longing.
Perhaps jealousy.
Once she believed she could have that with Ian.
And now she didn’t know where she stood with him.
“Ow,” he grumbled, pulling away.
“Some vinegar will help with the venom. Unless you prefer to use manure?”
He only glared at her as they went downstairs to the kitchen.
“Have you been down here?” she asked, guessing by his bewildered looks that he never had.
“Why would I? A duke has no need to go belowstairs.”
The house staff froze as they laid eyes upon the pair.
“Carry on,” Ian ordered.
“Cook?” Charlotte tugged Ian’s hand to follow. “Would you be so kind as to find us some vinegar?”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
The cook waved on the pair to follow as she moved through the busy kitchen.
With vinegar in hand, Charlotte led them into the empty dining room and gestured for Ian to sit.
He sat on the edge of the table. “I can do it myself.”
“Hmm,” she said, grabbing a rag and soaking it with vinegar. She leaned close to him, her eyes falling first to his lips. So close. Her body suddenly felt as if she had been stung as well, a prickle of awareness crawling up her spine. Those lips, she had kissed them again not long ago. But it had been an angry kiss, one that left far too many questions.
She gently pressed the damp rag to the inflamed skin around his left eye, then swiped it down to his mouth. And Ian sat there, looking a little broken and sad, and she couldn’t help but remember him standing by the garden gate earlier this morning with his hands tucked into the too-loose trousers and the easy smile that he wore.
It had felt, for a moment, a glimpse of what could have been between them. Or maybe it was more a memory of the man she had fallen in love with. Either way, it was silly to fall in love with him again.
And dangerous.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
She shook her hand, standing back a step to find some distance. But it was no use. She felt the heat rolling off his body, felt his skin beneath her fingertips as she grabbed his arm and pushed back the sleeves to his linen shirt.
