Page 44 of The Duke's Unclaimed Bride
“So, if you’re interested, you should act with haste,” James added.
“As if I am unaware of the fact that timing is everything in my business.”
“I am only saying it because you seem… well, rather distracted, my friend, despite how vehemently you deny it.”
Laurence shot him another glare. “Mallowby.”
James closed his mouth and took up his cue.
Laurence pressed his fingers to his brow and drew a deep breath. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, hewasdistracted, and had been since he’d kissed his wife.
Every night, his lips felt the tender touch of hers. His thoughts would drift to the quiet sigh she’d let slip while he’d held her. A slow but intense heat stirred in his gut at the thought of pulling her closer or pinning her to the wall.
The cursed carriage ride hadn’t helped. He’d been flung across the seat and into her, and it took every shred of self-discipline not to kiss her again.
He had hoped that a visit to the townhouse and the work he had to do would be enough to distract him, but they weren’t. Most nights, he was forced to pass her room on the way to his bedroom. He could hear her soft breaths, smell her perfume, and hear her moving under the covers.
This woman is enough to drive any man mad and turn his thoughts to sin.
One evening, he had even contemplated walking in on her as she slept, waking her up and kissing her senseless.
I couldn’t bring myself to do it that time, but I will. Soon.
His thoughts were still on Edith as he walked back to the townhouse. He wished the walk did not take so long, so he could be with her sooner.
“Has Her Grace returned?” he asked the butler as he took his coat.
“She has. I believe she is in the parlor. By the sound of it, her luncheon was a success,” the butler noted.
“Really?” Laurence smiled at the news.
“Indeed. I believe she has received two donations.”
“Better than none.”
“Totaling almost seventy-five pounds.”
Laurence paused, processing that piece of information. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was shocked. In truth, he had expected smaller amounts from her first time back in town.
“I see,” he said as he walked down the hall.
Something nagged at him as he thought about the donations. He was deeply aware that they had been given, at least partially, due to his position and title.
He could not help but wonder if this sudden generosity would put him in an awkward position. Although he had promised her independence, the possibility that it might leave him entangled in unwanted obligations gnawed at him.
A small giggle from the parlor interrupted his musing. Curious, Laurence walked toward the source of the sound.
From the parlor doorway, he saw Edith sitting in a chair, engrossed in her embroidery. She had yet to notice him. At the back of the room, Tilly was standing on a chair and two thick books.Hisbooks. Her little arms were reaching toward the jar of lemon drops Edith had brought with them.
“Your Grace,” Edith greeted as he entered the room.
The noise startled Tilly, who gasped and nearly fell, and now clung to the back of the chair. She scrambled and crouched, pressing even harder on the books.
Laurence’s stomach dropped as he realized the books she was crushing were his grandfather’s first editions, which were purchased long before he was born. Ancient and already falling apart, they didn’t need a child climbing on them.
“Get down,” Laurence commanded sternly.
“Your Grace—” Edith started.
