Page 75 of Debating with the Duke (Second Sons of London 2)

Chapter Twenty-One

Everett accompanied hissteward to a neighboring farm in order to inspect a group of sheep. Mr. Painter had suggested they start raising livestock as well as crops and this farmer had an excess within his flock that he was willing to part with for the right price. Painter had grown up on a farm and so Everett allowed him to haggle with the farmer over the cost of the livestock, taking pride when he surmised his steward had made a good deal.

Satisfied, the two men rode back to Cliffside, stopping to inspect crops in the fields and look at a fence which would soon need repair. Painter thought it could wait until after the harvest was collected but Everett was not fond of procrastination.

“We’ll do it ourselves,” he told his steward.

They rode to retrieve the necessary tools and then both men stripped off their coats and rolled up their shirtsleeves and spent an hour of hard labor seeing the fence mended. The work left Everett feeling happy.

Until he remembered he was sending Addie back to London tomorrow.

All day, the cloud of her leaving had hovered over him, finally dispelled as he pounded away at the fence. Now that the job had been completed, his guilt returned.

He was not the man for her. She had to be disappointed in him. He hadn’t the wit or effervescence she needed in a husband. His selfishness had backed her into a corner, giving her no choice but to accept him or be ruined. He longed to confess his sin against her to her but feared even the fragile bond they had forged—through lovemaking—would be forever broken.

He had missed teatime since the fence had taken longer to repair than he expected and he was soaked with sweat because of his labors. Calling for a bath before dinner, he soaked in the hot water, thinking of things to talk to Addie about before she left.

And fantasizing that she would tell him she truly didn’t want to leave him behind.

After dressing for dinner, he arrived and found she wasn’t in the dining room. A footman seated him and Arthur stepped forward with a decanted bottle of wine.

“Your Grace, Her Grace is feeling tired and will not be coming to dinner this evening. Mrs. Arthur had Cook send a tray up to her.”

The butler poured the wine into Everett’s glass and stepped aside.

With an ache in his heart, knowing Addie was avoiding him even before she left for town, he sipped the wine. The various courses arrived and he ate a bite or two before pushing it aside and indicating for the next one to come out. He skipped port after his meal, never really liking the taste of it, and retreated to his study where he brooded for two hours.

Finally, he went upstairs and Roper helped him from his clothes and into his banyan. Everett dismissed the valet and sat on the edge of his bed, debating whether or not to go to Addie. If she hadn’t wanted to eat with him, she surely wouldn’t want him in her bed. Yet the lure of her curves caused him to rise and go to her. She had said she would never turn him away. He needed her tonight. This last night. Especially since he had no idea when he might see her again.

He had no business that kept him in Kent. He had merely used that as an excuse. If he stayed here five days or five weeks, it probably wouldn’t matter to her.

Going to her door, he knocked softly.

No reply.

Perhaps she hadn’t heard him. Everett knocked again, harder this time. Still, no response. Worried about her now, he turned the doorknob and pushed the door open. His eyes went directly to the bed, which was empty. Then they swept the room and he saw her.

Asleep in a chair.

Moving to her, he saw a tray of food on the table beside her, barely touched. He wondered then if she truly had been tired since she hadn’t eaten much of anything. For a moment, he merely gazed down at her as her chest moved slightly up and down, the curve of her breasts enticing him.

“Addie?” he called softly.

She did not stir.

At least he believed she hadn’t been avoiding him. She truly looked exhausted. Even in sleep, he saw the shadows under her eyes and the frown on her brow.

Slipping his arms underneath her, he carried her to the bed and gently placed her upon it. Her hair, not in its usual braid, fanned out on the pillow. He ran his fingers through the silky waves, inhaling the vanilla that clung to her. Her lips parted and she seemed almost ready to say something in her sleep. He waited.

“Ev,” she breathed softly and then turned her face into the pillow.

That one word gave him hope. Hope that whatever was so wrong between them might eventually work its way out. That the knot they had entangled themselves in would be untangled.

That they might find their way back to one another.

Everett took the bedclothes and pulled them over her. He sat on the bed beside her, watching her sleep for a good hour. She lay there looking beautiful and vulnerable.

He rose and pressed a kiss to her brow.

---