Page 78 of Impassioned
Two years wasted. Because he was such a reticent, self-involvedidiot. He stroked his fingertips from her forehead down her cheek to her jaw. Then he kissed her, softly, reverently, dragging his thumb over her lips when he finished. “Now we can go upstairs.”
She picked up her wineglass and finished the madeira. “And now, I am ready.”
“I’ll be along presently, after I pick up my clothing.” He watched her go and hoped this was truly the start of something new, of something real.
If it wasn’t, he didn’t know what he was going to do. Because he couldn’t go back to the way things were.
And if he thought about it, which he tried not to, he had the tutor to thank for everything that was happening. Without her giving him the courage to do and say what he ought with Sabrina, they might still be fumbling in the dark. Despite the inarguable benefit of her help, he was sorry it had been necessary. Although, he couldn’t regret the progress they’d made, the intimacy they’d discovered. The tutor had been a help when they’d needed it, and he was grateful for what she’d provoked within him—the desire to court his wife, to give her the attention and consideration she deserved.
He retrieved his clothing, then his gaze fell on the invitation to the Phoenix Club. What the hell was that about? He couldn’t deny the rush of joy—and relief—he’d felt when he’d read it. But the threat of his father’s wrath had to be considered.
Or did it?
Perhaps it was time the duke altered his thinking when it came to his second son and his second son’s incredibly worthwhile endeavor. More importantly, perhaps it was time his eldest son pushed him to that end.
Chapter 18
Reynolds, Lucien’s butler, showed Constantine into his brother’s library where Lucien sat at his small desk, his hand scratching a pen across parchment. He seemed rather intent on his task since he didn’t react to their arrival.
“Lord Aldington is here to see you,” Reynolds said, prompting Lucien to look up.
Lucien blinked, then wiped his hand over his face.
The butler left and Constantine moved toward the desk, which stood beside a window that looked out to the back garden. “Good morning, Lucien.”
Lucien put his paper into a drawer and stood. “Another surprising visit. Can this be, what, the second in a fortnight?”
“Yes, I suppose it is.” Constantine sat in one of the wingback chairs near the hearth.
“Do you want a drink?” Lucien asked, taking a step toward his liquor cabinet.
“No, thank you. I can’t stay long. Too much happening at Westminster this week.”
“Ah yes, the Importation Bill?” At Constantine’s nod, Lucien continued. “Have you decided how you will vote?”
“You sound like Father. Yes, and don’t ask me about it. Please.”
Lucien’s brows climbed his forehead. “Such manners. And you’re almost…smiley.” He narrowed his eyes. “You seem happy. What’s wrong?”
Constantine laughed.
“Dear God, you’relaughing.” Lucien strode to him and put his hand against Constantine’s forehead. “Are you feverish?”
Swatting Lucien’s hand away, Constantine pursed his mouth up at his brother. “Stop being an ass and sit down.”
“I’vebeen admonished.” Lucien sat opposite him and straightened his waistcoat—he wasn’t wearing a coat. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this highly entertaining call?” His eyes widened. “You and Lady Aldington have reached an accord.”
“We weren’t at odds.” They just hadn’t been…together. And now they were. Saturday’s phaeton race to Richmond had been the best he’d ever undertaken and the fact that he’d arrived first wasn’t the reason. It was his wife’s company and perhaps the stop they’d made on the return that had involved a well-hidden tree and resulted in the loss of a button on his fall.
“Why are you smirking like that?” Lucien asked.
Constantine shook his head. “No reason.”
“Liar. You’re positively smitten. In fact, I would say you are glowing.” Lucien leaned back in his chair, looking smug. “You’re welcome.”
Smitten? Yes, he was. He was tumbling headfirst into love with his wife, and the sensation was at once unsettling and delightful. He chose not to dwell upon it but to just enjoy her company and the time they spent together.
The last thing Lucien said finally sank into Constantine’s brain. “I should thank you?”
