Page 21 of Crash Landing
“If you are that eager for it,” he said, casting her a devilish grin, “then I will make the exception for you and show you my sanctuary. To be clear, you are welcome in my bed whenever you feel ready.”
She pinched her lips together and tipped her chin upward. “Which I won’t ever be.”
“That is fine, too.”
“Ugh.Must you be so smug about everything?”
“Yes, it comes with the title,” he said, leading her up the grand staircase.
Knowing Florence, she was going to steal a moment to slide down the railing on her rump when she thought no one was watching.
But this was what he liked so much about her. She grabbed life’s adventures and held on fiercely. She was brave and passionate, something he admired even though he was furious with her at the moment for continuing to prod Frampton.
But it was hard to remain angry when he also ached to have her in his bed.
He sighed. That kiss they’d shared was giving him stupid ideas. She needed to be taken to safety, and his bed was no safe place for her to be.
Although it would be an extremely convenient way to keep her close and under his watch during the nighttime hours. If she were amenable, they could—
No, that was a step too far.
Since Florence’s aunt was chirping and twittering in delight in the room next door to the one prepared for Florence, he decided to have them stop in there first.
“I hope it meets with your approval, Miss Newton,” Trajan said.
“Oh, this is so lovely, Your Grace! I shall be happy as a lark settled in here.”
“I’m glad you like it. Florence has been put in the room next to yours. Have you peered out the window yet? You both have views of the Gull Hall gardens and our private cove beyond it. If you find yourequire anything, just tug on the bellpull and Mrs. Albright will bring up whatever you need.”
Personally, he thought the rose-patterned drapery and bedcovers, in addition to the floral-design carpet, was a bit too much. But Hermia seemed enraptured by the soft pinks and greens of the room’s colors. Florence’s was similarly designed, but in more subdued shades of cream and yellow.
He now turned to Florence. “Care to see yours?”
She nodded, and off they went.
“Oh my.” She paused at the threshold and smiled at him. “It is beautiful.”
He watched her as she began to walk around the large room, lightly trailing her fingers over the furniture as she took in all the details—the large, canopied bed, the massive wardrobe that was painted in the same shades of cream and yellow as the walls, the floral curtains patterned with yellow daffodils. She paused by the window to admire the view.
“Like it?” he asked, knowing he would not mind her fingers trailing over his body with a similarly light touch.
She smiled and nodded. “Very much so.”
“I hoped you would. But I cannot take credit for any of the splendor of this house, nor could my father. The prior duke, a granduncle of mine, had very definite ideas on what he liked. He ran the Weymouth businesses with this same efficiency and eye for quality.”
“I’m sure you will, too.”
“In time, perhaps. I have quite a bit to learn still. Fortunately, he left most of the properties in excellent shape. Only a few required my immediate attention, and I shall be working on them next. It is more the enormity of the holdings that are burdensome. One man cannot handle it all.”
“Well, your granduncle must have had good estate managers and advisors to assist him.”
He nodded. “Yes, but many of them are getting on in years now. Two passed away just this year and several more are no longer up to the task. I’ve asked my cousins to help me out. You’ll meet them soon.”
“Your cousins? Will they be joining us here?”
“Yes, they should arrive any day now,” he said as his footmen brought in her trunk and other small bags. At his nod, two of his maids who had followed the men in began to unpack with practiced care.
Since Florence did not insist on supervising the maids, who obviously knew what they were doing, he remained engaged in small talk with her while the staff settled her in these new quarters. “My father had a younger brother, who in turn had three sons. They range in age from eighteen to twenty-four, so they are a bit younger than me. The eighteen-year-old will have to attend university in the fall, but the others have already graduated Oxford with honors, I am proud to say.”
