Page 31 of The Duke's Lesson in Love

ChapterTwelve

Sadie stifled a groan. Her eyes fluttered close to savor his gentle caress, the warmth of his breath against her hot skin. He was melting her insides with his attentiveness. He truly intrigued her. Once again, Sadie experienced a tenderness about his lordship that was in contrast to the man she had met in London.

“That is much better, thank you.” It was not better, but appeasing Edwin was the quickest way to keep Lord Gilleasbuig’s mouth from its exquisite torment. The kisses may have quieted the ache in her foot, but it awakened another. Something deeper and more carnal than she had experienced.

“Mamon Sadie’s kisses always work on me.”

“Do you suppose they might work on me?” Lord Gilleasbuig asked, a mischievous glint softening his eyes.

Edwin nodded. “Do you have an ache too?” The boy examined his father with new eyes so sincere, she bit her lip to keep from laughing. “I do not see any scrapes.”

His lordship pointed to his mouth and Edwin’s eyes narrowed to inspect the area. Even Lord Gilleasbuig’s shoulders shook.

“Did Mamon bite you when Mrs. Mary and I found you in the nursery? You made an odd noise.”

Sadie flushed. “I did no such—”

“Precisely,” Lord Gilleasbuig interrupted. “The attack on my mouth was quite… scorching.”

Her eyes widened at his meaning. Had his lips tingled too or his pulse leaped from his skin each time her tongue dueled with his?

“Mamon, you said never to bite.” Edwin wedged the toe of his slippers into the carpet. “It is only fair that Mamon apologizes.”

The boy sounded so dejected to find out she had bitten his father. She recalled telling him those words when he was three years old. Two of the toddlers in the nursery had started biting and the teachers and other nannies were afraid the other children would think the behavior acceptable. She shifted to tell him that they were teasing, and no biting was involved—though she suspected a new set of questions would follow—but the child had already turned away.

“Where are you going?” she asked. Edwin was halfway to the door as if the matter of her leg and her perceived misbehavior was resolved.

“I was very good and Mrs. Mary promised tarts.” The child looked sad again.

Surely the idea of tarts should have cheered him.

“But now you will not get any Mamon, because you bit his lordship.” He ran out the door.

The cad beside her chuckled, not even attempting to defend her right to fresh tarts. How was she going to explain her assumed biting to the child without being contradictory?

“This is all your fault.”

“I saved you,” he objected.

“You did no such thing, Your Grace.”

“Semantics.” He smirked. “If you had only fallen a minute later, I would have.” With her stockings off, he examined her leg. “It is not my fault you are a poor damsel in distress.”

She pulled her leg from his clasp, but his grip tightened, holding it in place. His hands were warm and wreaking havoc on her senses.

He gently squeezed her ankle. “It is not sprained, but the ankle is slightly swollen. A day’s rest and it will be as good as new.”

Sadie chewed her lower lip as she watched him gently massage her ankle. She did not want to upset him, but she needed to know why he sealed a room meant for his son. Did he not intend for the child to stay and could she part with Edwin so soon after having him all to herself? “Your Grace, why have you locked off that portion of the house?”

“You should not have been there. The nursery is forbidden.”

“Edwin needs a room to thrive.”

“Is his current room lacking?” He looked at her then and she sensed there was more he refused to say.

She covered his hand gently. The contrast served as a reminder—though their backgrounds could not be more different, they both cared for Edwin.

“The room is meant for your wife.”

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