Page 56 of His Haunted Duchess
“It is all right. Do not forget to breathe. In through your nose, out through your mouth.”
With his free hand he rubbed her shoulder, pushing life back into her pallid skin.
“Breathe,” he whispered. “Breathe.”
Caroline breathed, releasing the fear, the anguish, the grief. She breathed again, snuggling deeper into his chest, wrapping the robe closer around her. His heart beat soothing next to her ear. She had never felt so warm—so warm, and so content.
He took his hand away from her mouth, and she tilted her eyes to meet his. They were so close—so warm and so near. His hand,lost in thought, perchance, was still stroking her back in a long, slow pulse.
He leaned but one step further and pressed his lips to hers. It was the sweetest kiss she had ever known—more poignant than anything she had ever tasted. She pressed her lips to his, wrapping her fingers around the back of his head, leaning into the enveloping sweetness of his embrace.
No!She pulled back, startling them both. Frederic looked like a bird startled out of the brush. Caroline pushed herself into a sitting position. No matter how painfully entwined their past, it should not affect the reality of their present.
“I—I should go back to bed,” she stammered. “Thank you for your…” Her lips formed the wordaffection, but she pressed them firmly together.
Frederic stood, setting her gently back on the floor. He bowed.
“Thank you for the reminder. It is very late,” he said without meeting her eyes. “Perhaps a little sleep would be good for us both.”
Caroline sighed in relief once her door shut behind her. Oscar had abandoned the bed and curled up in front of the fire. She sank into a chair next to him.
That was too close—too dangerous. She could not allow herself the luxury of closeness after this conversation, after they had—-the dreaminess of his kiss washed over her, warming her even more than the fire. She straightened, brushing the feeling away.
She had crumbled in a moment of weakness, but she must never have any lasting feelings for the duke for both of their safety. The screams from her nightmares echoed through her mind. She shut her eyes to lock them out.
Up until this point, she and the duke had proceeded on a plan of mutual equanimity, and it had served them both well. Her curse had only extended to her. She must be careful to keep it that way.
She would be more careful from now on, more guarded in her behavior toward him. She—they—couldn’t afford any more mistakes.
CHAPTER 18
“Caroline, don’t you wish to attend?”
She blinked.
“I don’t think it would be an advisable course of action. There will be more balls and assemblies in the year following, surely.”
Philip’s face clouded. He had invited her to tea. They had assembled in the small sitting room, tucked in behind the main hall. The rich, burgundy walls bled onto a vibrant Turkish rug, creating the illusion of lustrous privacy.
“It’s the last ball of the Season, you know.” He helped himself to another crumpet. “Of course, there will be more, but it’s a big occasion. Everyone will be there.”
“Everyone but me, I suppose, with which I am quite comfortable.”
She took a sip out of her cup and felt pleased that she meant it. The last few months had passed quietly and genially. A night at home held no particular evil.
Even so, Caroline had settled deeper into her role as a duchess, but she had studiously avoided evening social engagements. They had gone once to the opera, it was true. Frederic, however, had sat in the box of a friend during the performance, leaving Caroline and his mother to enjoy the arias and librettos at their leisure.
Neither one of them had mentioned that night in the library again.
Other than that, the new Duchess of Blackmore had preferred to spend her time cozy at home rather than skipping through a cotillion. After spending so much time in engagements during the daylight hours, Caroline coveted the sweet, simple quiet of her evening repose.
The tenor of her nightmares had faded somewhat. She at least could say on most mornings that she had rested better than she had expected which was a refreshing change. Only on occasion did her nightmares splash into her rest. It was the shrieking now that drove her to wakefulness—the cries of her mother, brothers, and sisters.
Philip added a teaspoon of sugar to his cup.
“How can you be so disinclined? Here I am, desperately and anxiously waiting for the day when I can engage in the activity that you so spurn.”
Caroline couldn’t help but laugh at the drama etched into every line of Philip’s irritated face.
