Page 79 of The Duchess in His Bed
But then everything about their relationship seemed to have happened at breakneck speed, as though they’d been sitting astride a runaway horse. Never had so many varying emotions pummeled her as they did now. A mixture of joy and sadness, a need to hoard away memories.
Inside the shop, she took comfort from the musty aroma emanating from the books stacked neatly on the beautifully carved bookcases.
Fancy hurried over to her, curtsied. “Your Grace, I’m so glad you were able to come by for a peek.” She glanced past Selena, her delicate brow furrowing. “Your sisters—”
“Are indisposed. They send their apologies, but as their mourning period is not as long as mine, I’m certain they’ll pay a visit at the appropriate time.”
“I look forward to welcoming them. We already have the punch set up if you’d like some. Mick has asked his hotel chef to prepare us some tea cakes, but they won’t be here for a while yet.”
“I’d actually just like to wander about.”
Aiden strolled with her as she wended her way among the bookcases, touching a spine here and there, imagining all the various worlds into which a person could escape. Eventually they made their way upstairs. Flowers had been added to the sitting areas, making them appear cozier. All the shelves on either side of the fireplace were crammed with books, but it was what hung above the mantelpiece that snagged her attention, and like someone caught in a trance, she floated toward it, captivated. The painting depicted a young woman lounging on a settee, reading a book, a stack of tomes scattered on the floor about her. While her face was muted and soft, the lady was obviously Fancy. “You created this, capturing Fancy’s love of reading.”
He didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. She recognized his handiwork, the care that went into it, the love he delivered with every brushstroke. “I think you could make a fortune as an artist.”
“Its value comes from the pleasure it brings me.”
And that it brought others.
To her left, near a window, was the nook Fancy had designed as an area for children to read. On the wall were other paintings, smaller ones, seemingly arranged haphazardly. As she neared, she laughed at the sight of a cat, dog, hedgehog, dormouse, unicorn, and mermaid reading, each in their own little world, their own individual frames. He had told her he painted from memory, but it was also obvious he had quite the vivid imagination. “You created these as well. Who’d have thought Aiden Trewlove had a bit of whimsy to him?”
Turning, she smiled, touched to see his cheeks darkening with the heat of embarrassment. “Is that the reason you don’t sign them? So people won’t realize you possess a tender heart?”
“I don’t do them for the acclaim, so I don’t see any need to put my name to them. They’re just a bit of fun.”
But they were so much more. Just as he was.
“They’re going to delight the children.” And she couldn’t help but wonder if he would create flights of fancy for his own offspring—and stopped herself from going further and contemplating what the woman who gave them to him would be like. If they continued to see each other, she couldn’t give him any more children. They would have to return to using the sheaths. But eventually, he might want a real family that he didn’t have to hide away.
He merely shrugged. “Walls weren’t meant to be bare. I painted some pictures for Gillie’s pub.”
“Mermaids and unicorns?”
He grinned. “Of course. So I couldn’t very well not paint something for Fancy.” He stepped nearer, trailed his finger along her chin. “I should paint something for you. What would you like?”
A portrait of you.A miniature. Something she could put in a locket and keep near her heart. “I don’t know. I’ll have to think on it.”
“I’m glad you came this afternoon. I enjoy seeing you away from the club.”
It made their being together seem of a greater purpose.
“I wish I could do more with you,” he said quietly.
“Widows aren’t allowed to give out or accept invitations, not for a year. It wouldn’t do for us to be seen gadding about.”
He moved nearer, his legs brushing against her skirts, his hand folding around her neck, his fingers skimming along her spine at her nape. “I’ve been trying to think of someplace I could take you.”
“Like the theater? Have you ever been to a play?”
“Once. When I was younger, about twelve, we all saved up and took our mum to a play on Drury Lane. I enjoyed it, but not enough to spend my coins on it again. At least not then. I could take you to a penny gaff. It’s unlikely any nobs would be there.”
“But we can’t guarantee some young lord isn’t up to some mischief.”
“No.” He lowered his lips to the underside of her jaw, and with a sigh, she dropped her head back. “There was a time I could have taken you to Gillie’s pub but now that she’s married to a duke, lords are always dropping by.”
“A pity.”
“I can’t take you on a stroll through a park. It seems all I can do is take you to bed.” Regret and sorrow laced his voice.
