Page 63 of Debating with the Duke (Second Sons of London 2)

Chapter Eighteen

Anxiety filled Adalynas Bridget removed the wedding gown and dressed her in some filmy night rail that Tessa had pressed upon her as a gift. Her cousin had insisted it was something a husband would enjoy seeing his new wife wear. She glanced down and saw she could see through it.

And if she could, Ev certainly could.

She wished she knew what lay ahead. Mama had been no help in addressing the matter. Adalyn realized she should have pulled Tessa aside to learn what was expected.

“Sit at your new dressing table, Your Grace,” Bridget instructed.

“Why?”

“You have a lot of pins in your hair.”

“You are removing them?” she asked.

“Yes. A simple braid will do.”

Adalyn’s heart pounded against her ribs, tension rippling through her. She disguised her agitation, though, as she had all day.

By thinking as a duchess should.

No duchess would worry about any matter, especially a coupling with her husband. She would be stoic and hope that the act would result in getting an heir. At least that’s what Adalyn hoped would occur. She had heard vague talk among the women of theton. How once you were with child, your husband left you alone.

She definitely needed Ev to leave her alone.

Even if she craved his touch.

The marriage was complete. There would be no going back. Adalyn had done her best all day to act as a duchess would. She tamped down her natural exuberance. Instead of rushing to hug guests at their wedding breakfast with enthusiasm, she had smiled graciously and allowed them to take her hand. She kept her voice modulated and strove to practice perfect posture.

Bridget finished unpinning the elaborate hairstyle and brushed her mistress’ hair before braiding it. Then she held up a dressing gown and Adalyn gratefully slipped into it, belting it tightly. Uneasiness filled her.

“I’ll leave you now, Your Grace,” the maid said. “Ring if you need anything else.” She grinned saucily. “I doubt you will, though.”

After Bridget departed, Adalyn paced the room, restlessly awaiting Ev.

Her husband . . .

She didn’t want to think of him as a duke. She didn’t want to look ahead to the ways she would disappoint him. The list was foremost in her mind. She fit a few of the things he had wished for in his duchess—and would do her best to try and fulfill the other ones. Leaving town for Kent was one thing she could do. Ev had wanted a wife who would take her responsibilities seriously, including those regarding the tenants at his estates. He would appreciate leaving London since he wasn’t comfortable attonevents and would relax once they returned to the country. She would show him that she could do her best to be a good duchess, though she feared it would take her years to grow into the role.

A soft knock sounded, coming from a different door than the one she had entered. His rooms and hers most likely connected for convenience. She thought of what Tessa had said about the night rail and quickly untied it, placing it across a chair.

“Come,” she called out, butterflies filling her belly.

Ev stepped in, wearing a banyan of midnight blue and dark trousers. No shirt or cravat lay beneath the banyan and she could see his smooth throat and a bit of chest hair peeking out. Her mouth grew dry.

He closed the door behind him and came to her, admiration in his eyes.

“You look lovely, Addie. Like an angel wrapped in a gossamer of silk.”

She swallowed. She wanted to say something but no words formed in her mind.

“Are you apprehensive?” he asked.

“Yes,” she whispered.

Ev placed his large hands on her shoulders and warmth rushed through her. She caught the spice of his cologne.

“Do you know anything about what is to come?”

---