Page 65 of Defending the Duke (The St. Clairs 4)

Chapter Twenty

Monkton assessed Anthonyand readjusted his cravat, nodding with satisfaction.

“You are happy tonight, Your Grace?” the valet asked.

The servant’s question took Anthony aback. Monkton rarely spoke, unless he was discussing members of theton, and the man never asked anything personal of Anthony.

“I am,” he admitted. “Very much so.”

“Her Grace seems very happy these days, as well,” Monkton noted.

“I hope she is.”

For two weeks, he had gotten along splendidly with his duchess. They hadn’t argued once. He had done small things that he thought would please her. Taken her riding every morning. Brought her flowers once. Took her to her first opera. Complimented her gowns. It was funny how making an effort to be pleasant to his wife had buoyed his own spirits. He seemed to get more accomplished regarding business and his holdings. He didn’t mind going to social engagements as much. He even believed he had more energy—despite the lack of sleep. He’d made love to Laurel every night, learning more of what pleased her. Making her happy, in and out of bed, had been a goal worth setting and more easily accomplished than he could have imagined.

He also had grown protective of Hannah. Ever since he saw her for the eager, sweet girl that she was and not an extension of her father, he’d grown fonder of her. She had picked up on the difference in his attitude and was effervescent and charming with him. Anthony had even begun looking into a few of the young bachelors who seemed most interested in her, making subtle inquiries into the gentlemen and their backgrounds. Her father had left Hannah a substantial dowry, as befitted the daughter of a duke. Anthony didn’t want some penniless suitor sweeping her off her feet simply to get his hands on that dowry. He wanted Hannah to find lasting happiness.

He cut through the rooms that connected his to Laurel’s and entered. She sat in front of a mirror and watched as Retta styled her hair. Tonight, the black mane was swept high on her head with small tendrils floating along the sides. Her gown was a rich red, the neckline low, revealing a creamy expanse of skin. His eyes dropped to the rounded tops of her breasts.

“That will be all, Retta,” she told the maid, who quickly exited the room.

Anthony went and placed a hand on her bare shoulder, sliding his thumb back and forth. She shivered. He lowered his lips to her nape and nibbled on it, causing her to giggle. He slid his hand from her shoulder to her chin, holding it and then turning her head to the side so he could feast upon her neck. Her sigh was the sweetest sound he’d heard all day.

“You haven’t any jewels on yet,” he noted, his gaze holding hers in the mirror.

“I couldn’t decide if the diamonds or pearls would look best. Shall I try on each and let you decide?”

“I prefer these.”

He pulled his other hand from where it rested behind his back and placed the case on the dressing table in front of her. Anthony had already discussed with Retta what Laurel would wear tonight and had made the appropriate choice from the safe.

“What? Another gift?”

“Open it.”

She lowered her eyes and hesitated for a moment, then lifted the lid. He looked over her shoulder at the ruby necklace and earrings resting against the dark blue velvet.

Laurel shook her head. “They’re too much. You give me far too much.”

He placed his hands on her shoulders. “You give me more in return.” His lips caressed the side of her throat. He longed to cup her breasts but that would lead to him undressing her. As it was, Hannah and Aunt Constance probably waited for them downstairs.

Reaching out, he lifted the necklace and placed the rubies about her neck. They were the exact shade of her dress, a perfect match.

“Put on the earrings,” he urged. “My fingers aren’t as nimble as yours.”

She lifted one to her earlobe and snorted. “Your fingers are quite nimble, Your Grace. I remember them being so only last night.”

He thought of where he had put his fingers and swallowed. “Maybe I can place them in the same places tonight.”

Her eyes shone. “You can try,” she said, grinning at him.

Anthony pulled her to her feet and kissed her hard. As he’d feared, Laurel had become a drug he was addicted to. What had changed is he no longer cared if she knew. His desire for her was too great.

He broke the kiss. “One earring won’t do, Duchess. You better put on the other one. Unless you are planning to start a new trend of wearing only one earring to balls.”

She laughed throatily and attached the other to her earlobe. He kissed her lightly.

“There. You are perfect now.”

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