Page 34 of Unraveled By the Duke
“Of course, how remiss of me,” Alexander drawled, stopping long enough to take off his boots and toss them aside, before resuming his dash across the grounds.
“That wasn’t what I meant!” Celia laughed as she followed.
They entered a copse of trees, slowing down to navigate the slim boles and thickening undergrowth. Then, they emerged into a clearing. A stream ran through it, collecting into a pool ringed with willows, except where a wooden structure stood.
“This was my castle when I was young. My impenetrable fortress that I could deny even to my parents,” Alexander revealed, trying the wooden door. “I would dive from the window into the pool.”
Inside, Celia felt mossy wood beneath her feet. A ladder stood in the middle of the room, leading up into a hole in the ceiling. Alexander ascended, and Celia followed, thinking this must still be a dream.
In the room above, one wall was absent, creating a balcony over the still pool below.
Alexander sat on the edge, and Celia joined him.
“Why is this house in such a state of disrepair if it is the source of such happy memories?” she asked gently.
Alexander frowned. “We left Finsbury after my mother’s death. Father couldn’t bear to live somewhere where he would be constantly reminded of her. This was Cheverton Estate back then, but Father had the name assigned to the house outside Kensington, and it has remained thus ever since.”
A long pause ensued.
Alexander took another long sip from the bottle before handing it to Celia. The drink was beginning to go to her head, blurring the lines of her inhibitions. She moved closer to Alexander,leaning against him. He wrapped his arm around her, silently encouraging her to rest her head on his shoulder.
Celia sighed, watching the glitter of moonlight on the water as it was disturbed by invisible insects and night creatures.
“If only everything could remain so simple as this,” she sighed.
“We would have to be the only two people in the world.”
“I’m afraid I am capable of creating complications all by myself,” Celia said, closing her eyes.
“I can attest to that.” He chuckled.
Celia opened her eyes at the jest. “You are a rude man,” she said, laughing.
“It is not what I am known for, but you seem to bring out the rebellious streak in me. I cannot account for it,” Alexander replied.
“I should warn you that I am known to be impulsive and mischievous. I used to dress as a young man and wander the streets of London. Who knows what such a wild woman will do next?”
“I cannot wait to find out.”
He looked at her in the moonlight, his eyes shadowed but his stare direct. She could not see his eyes, but she could feel them on her. She could feel their lingering touch. She wondered if they had wandered to the thick fabric that concealed the swell of her breasts.
“I might push you into the pool,” she threatened.
“And I might pull you in after me,” Alexander countered. “Then, we would both be wise to get out of our sopping clothes before we catch our deaths.”
Celia’s breath was coming quick and fast at the very notion. The dream remained at the forefront of her mind. Its substance was hazy, now that her mind was separated from it by the veil of wakefulness. But the sensations it had engendered were all too real.
Those same sensations caressed her body now, warming her from within and caressing her skin from without.
“That sounds like an invitation for both of us to jump in,” Celia whispered, her voice husky with desire.
He is my husband. Though it feels like the actions of a wanton harlot, I am allowed to seduce my husband.
Alexander leaned closer, as though to kiss her. But at the last moment, he seemed to shake himself. Turning away, he put the bottle to his lips and took a swig.
“I think not. A week, we said. There are still four days left. I would wait.”
Disappointment coursed through Celia, dousing the flames of her attraction like a deluge of water from the depths of a glacier.
