Page 40 of Unraveled By the Duke
They walked past Alexander, out of the sitting room. Celia let Hyacinth guide her through the house until they stepped through a pair of French doors onto a paved area above a beautiful lawn.
Celia talked about art and her passion for it, while Alexander followed silently. She looked back at him more than once to catch him listening attentively.
Every time she did, though, he found reason to look away, as though he had only glanced at the two women and had no interest in their conversation.
You cannot pretend to be made of stone—not with me. I caught a glimpse of the real man beneath that hard exterior last night.
Before they had both tumbled into the pool.
Celia didn’t remember much of the night after that. A hazy recollection of Alexander carrying her back to the house and her bed. The sensation of being tenderly laid on the bed, the fire being stoked.
Did he undress me? Peggy would have been asleep at that hour, and I woke up in a clean nightdress, though my hair was still wet. Oh Lord!
She glanced back, her face flaming brightly, and caught Alexander looking at her. Their eyes held for a long moment.
She wondered if he was thinking about the same thing, the same moment. The idea that he might have seen her naked, that his hands might have touched her, even if only in the act of peeling off a sopping wet nightgown. It was quite thrilling.
They were descending a set of mossy stone steps, flanked by two ancient-looking statues of angels. Before them stretched a vast lawn, in the process of being scythed down by two gardeners.
“We have an arboretum. It is my favorite place in the gardens,” Hyacinth said, pointing to a stone wall painted white and hung with clematis and climbing roses.
Above the wall, trees were visible.
“Perhaps I am being a gooseberry? I wonder if Celia would rather be shown around the arboretum by you, Alexander,” she added with a secretive smile. “After all, a married couple no longer needs a chaperone.”
She stepped away from Celia, releasing her arm and gesturing for her brother to take her place.
Alexander inclined his head and stepped forward, offering his arm to Celia. She took it gingerly, not applying her touch too firmly. Beneath her hand, she thought she felt his muscles tensing. Even a light touch allowed her to feel his hard, unyielding muscles.
It must be damnably uncomfortable to be embraced by such steely muscles in bed.
“Shall we?” Alexander prompted courteously, as though reading her mind.
Her blush deepened at the thought.
Hyacinth giggled. “I will take a stroll about the lawn and flowerbeds. Enjoy!” she trilled.
Alexander began walking towards the arboretum.
“I do not remember putting myself to bed,” Celia blurted out, unable to help her curiosity.
“Yes, the shock of the immersion and the effect of the wine,” Alexander said.
“But I woke up in a clean nightdress,” Celia pointed out.
Alexander said nothing but looked at the path ahead of them.
She turned to him, searching his face for any hint.
After a moment, he looked down at her. “Was that a question? I did not hear one.”
“Would you have me ask you outright?” she asked.
“If I were the one who put you in a clean nightdress?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
