Page 88 of In Need of a Duke
“There are advantages to being Duke.”
“Oh?”
“More beds.”
“That sounds like a challenge.”
Charlotte only ran her hand through his hair and pulled him closer. “One I think I would like to partake in.”
When he drew back, there was a silly, lovestruck grin on that handsome face of his. “You are so damn perfect, Charlotte. Don’t ever change.”
CHAPTER 24
Charlotte and Ianhad been riding in Hyde Park early that morning. It helped that they had never ventured to bed. Well, not to sleep anyhow.
And although she was tired, she had never felt so at peace before.
She stood in the back of the townhouse near the stable, her hands on her hips as she studied the space.
“I see you plotting,” he called out, leaning from out the library window. He clasped a pair of glasses in his hands.
Heaven, did she love the man in his reading glasses.
“Muddling over an idea.”
Ian rested his face in his hand, tilting his head and quizzing her over. “What idea is that?”
She waved it off, laughing at how ridiculous it was. Charlotte needed sleep, not to be dreaming of a home for her plants. But it was hard to ignore the call of the English countryside, and she wished to leave London behind. Cumbria would be brimming with fresh spring blooms, and she was determined to catalog them all, however difficult the task.
Until then, she would appease herself by growing her collection of rare plants. But even that felt nothing more than self-indulgent forthe moment. She would be laughed out of London if she ever revealed her desire to study orchids. As it was, the Naturalist Society accepted her work studying the flora and fauna of Cumbria under a pseudonym.
“I wish to build a glass house.” She stretched her arms as if sketching it into the sky. “Not here. At Stonehurst. Only, I was suddenly struck with the inspiration.”
“Come to bed, Lottie.”
“Shh,” she giggled, waving him off once more. “I am off to see the modiste.”
“Hold on,” he called out before disappearing.
The duke sprinted outside a few moments later, scooping her up in his arms and spinning her around. “Tell me more of this glass house. What will it do, and what will it look like? Let me build you one as big as you’d like, wherever you want.”
She cupped his face in her hands and giggled in between him peppering her with kisses. “I will be home in a little while. Then prepare to be beaten, I aim to play a foolish amount of Whist with you.”
“Here I was thinking we would go to the opera this evening.” He set her down, then reached out, and righted her crooked bonnet. “There.”
“I don’t wish to hear what anyone else has to say about us any longer.”
And while that was true, she was also concerned the longer they remained in Town, the more opinions would seep into their relationship. If they were to truly have a second chance, then they must do so free of judgment and gossip. If they failed, she wished the blame to fall solely on them, no one else.
“You aren’t enjoying London?”
“You do? You have avoided it often enough.”
“My life is here. And now my heart.”
Charlotte grinned, embarrassment suddenly swirling in her stomach. She never was good at accepting compliments.
“Keep dreaming, Lottie. I like seeing stars in your eyes.” He settledher into the carriage. “Also”—he paused, leaning into the door and grinning—“hurry home.”
