Page 60 of The Duke Who Loved Me (The Duke's Estates 1)

He put his other arm around her and held on while she cried. He hoped it was a comfort. Oddly, her tears were a comfort to him, because they wereright. The scene they’d just witnessed ought to be mourned. It had left him raw—having children flinch away from him in fear, thinking of the circumstances that had made them act so. It was wretched, outrageous, insupportable. They deserved tears.

Cecelia’s didn’t last long. James could feel her struggling to shake them off. She stopped on a long, shaky breath and took another, deeper one.

James expected her to pull away, but she didn’t. She lingered a moment in his arms, nestled there. Triumph shot through James at that small confiding motion. He felt as if he’d won a great prize he hadn’t known he was vying for. He hadn’t even been aware that it existed. Which made the gift even more precious.

They stayed together. Cecelia sighed, and the feel of her body changed, softened. Her hand moved on his back.

James’s arms tightened of their own accord. Need flamed through him. He wanted Cecelia as he’d never wanted a woman before. She was all a man could desire.

Cecelia straightened, drew back, and stepped away. She didn’t meet his eyes. He had to let her go. She brushed at his coat. “I’ve soaked your shoulder.”

“No matter.” He looked for a sign that she’d felt what he did. She pulled out a handkerchief to wipe her eyes and blow her nose with a ladylike snuffle.

“Our fathers were not easy,” she said then. “But…”

James nodded. “Words can lash, but my father was merely cold and dictatorial.”

“And mine distracted and self-centered.”

“Beatings are something else entirely,” he finished.

“Yes. Despicable!” She tucked her handkerchief away. “Do you think it was only Ned?”

“From the way the family reacted, I would guess so. I’ve gathered from other things they’ve said that Ned’s father did not approve of him.”

“Approve? What do you mean? He is an eleven-year-old boy.”

“Who is interested in types of fabric and details of design. He let drop that he knows how to use a flatiron, and the whole family blanched as if he’d admitted to being a murderer. Such a clamor to change the subject!”

“But why?”

“I cannot say. But after today, I judge they were expecting an explosion of temper from me.”

She shook her head. “I suppose Mr. Gardener was one of those who despises anything labeled women’s work.”

“Perhaps.” James remembered incidents at school, when sensitive boys had been teased and bullied. So often the victim of his father’s sarcasm, he’d never joined in. But he hadn’t helped them either. “I do know one thing,” he added.

“What?” asked Cecelia.

“I shall prove to them that their late unlamented father is not the only kind of man in the world.” James was surprised at the ferocity of this resolve.

“What sort will you show them?” she wondered softly.

With such a strong feeling, he should have an immediate answer. But he did not. James struggled to put words to the impulse and realized that it had been spurred on by many things that had happened in the last few weeks. A proposal and a humiliation and a change in perspective. He spoke slowly. “One who knows that strength includes, is rooted in, kindness.” He remembered Ned cringing away and nearly cringed himself. “One who appreciates those who are not like him.”

Cecelia put a hand on his arm. She looked up at him with a tenderness he’d never seen in her eyes before. Her lips parted, but she didn’t speak.

He bent his head. She raised her chin. They moved as one.

The kiss was soft and confiding at first. Gradually, it grew deep and exploratory, inflaming James to the core. It seemed that she did want to kiss him, noted the tiny part of his brain that still functioned. He certainly wanted to keep on kissing her—today, tomorrow, and for the rest of his life. James pulled her against him, every line of their bodies melting together. She laced her arms around his neck and matched his ardor. This was what he’d been looking for, James thought. This was the missing piece.

“Mam wonders can we order a roast beef from the butcher,” declared a small female voice.

Cecelia jerked back. James protested wordlessly, but she stepped out of his arms and away. He turned to discover Jen standing in the doorway. She didn’t seem shocked by the kiss. But neither did she make any allowance for privacy. How could it be so hard to achieve with only six people in a large house?

“She says it’s more economical, like,” added Jen. She waited, unconscious of awkwardness.

“I must go,” said Cecelia. Her face was flushed. She looked gloriously disheveled, even though her clothes were scarcely mussed.

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