Page 58 of The Duke's Impossible Deal
“No!” Georgie’s eyes were saucer-like as she rounded on Rowen. “I have to attend my lessons.”
Rowen’s heart twisted in her chest, but before she could say anything, Alistair chimed in, “We have a lot to learn, and it will take us some time to get used to it; that’s all. Let’s just enjoy the play.”
Rowen chewed on her lip but said nothing. Though Alistair was smiling at her, she could see the tension in his face.
“Look, it’s starting!” Georgie pointed to the actor who had just walked onto the stage. “We should pay attention.”
Rowen knew that Georgie hated the way most people spoke during plays; it was something that irked her as well. But the unease that coiled in her gut only grew, especially when the drinks and snacks arrived and her children ate them almost mechanically.
She wanted to understand what was going on. Was it their lessons? Was it all the change? But whenever she asked, they insisted they were both fine. At some point, she turned and found them deeply asleep.
Her heart ached as she brushed locks of hair from their faces. “What am I going to do with you?”
Not for the first time, Rowen found herself wondering what it would be like to be able to discuss such things with another adult. To share her worries and get advice. Adele’s children were too young, Cora’s children were too old, and Verity only had her dogs.
“They are exhausted, and I will have to wake them to get them back into the carriage, and again once we are home.” She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “I wish I could carry you both. That I knew what was going on with you.”
I should be paying more attention to them, not being distracted by renovations and who knows what else.
Striking green eyes flashed through her mind, and she shook her head.
“He would no doubt scoop each of them into his arms and carry them without waking them.” The image tugged at her heart. “Not that I would ask him.”
Men will tire.
Just because something would make things easier did not mean it was the right thing. She looked at her children again and wondered what the right thing was.
When the play was over, she woke them and sent them straight to bed when they returned home. The image of their sleeping forms, their withdrawn nature, made her feel restless.
“One of Cook’s biscuits—that will be just the thing.”
She made her way to the kitchen, pulling on a thick dressing gown as she went.
The biscuits were easy enough to find, and she pulled the tin down, setting it on one of the tables and opening the lid.
“It seems we both had the same thought,” Tobias’s amused voice came.
Rowen turned to find him standing in the doorway.
“What thoughts have kept you awake, dear Duchess?” Tobias grinned at her and moved further into the kitchen.
“Nothing of particular note.” Rowen shrugged.
But as Tobias drew closer and she could see him properly in the light of her candle, she felt her cheeks flush. His dressinggown was undone, exposing his bare chest and a hint of his linen britches.
Rowen swallowed, unable to look away from his muscular form and the scars that ran across his body. Her fingers twitched as though a part of her wanted to trace the thin lines, so she grabbed a biscuit.
Tobias’s grin widened, and he winked. “Enjoying the view?”
Rowen narrowed her eyes at him, but was mollified when she realized that two faint spots of color had appeared on his cheeks as well.
“I am simply impressed that you do not seem to feel the cold.” She gestured to her own thick dressing gown. “The view, I can take or leave.”
She tore her gaze from his chest with some difficulty.
“I would bear almost anything for you.” Tobias moved towards her, drawing his dressing gown around himself as he helped himself to a biscuit. “Cold is the least of them.”
Rowen rolled her eyes. “Oh yes, I am sure this little show is all for me.”
