“You were so brave, Rosalie, so brave,” he whispered. “I’ve never been so proud of you.”
They stayed like that for a long time. Rosalie had no desire to move; she had never felt as safe and held as she did in thismoment. Eventually, her tears dried, and her sobs became little hiccups, and then she was no longer crying, just breathing slowly and rhythmically against his shoulder.
When at last she lifted her head, it was to find that the footmen and Clara had gone. She was now alone with her husband.
“Thank you,” she murmured as she gazed up at him. “I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t come with the planks. That was very quick thinking.”
He brought his hand to her chin and cupped it, his thumb tracing across her jawline. “My brother and I used to use planks like these to explore old, abandoned buildings in the countryside. Sometimes the floors had caved in, so we would find planks to use as bridges.”
“So, you had done that before,” she said. “Like Lizzy ‘Nobeard’ and the rope.”
“I had done it before,” he confirmed, “although never with such high stakes.” His thumb continued to stroke her jaw. His other hand was still protectively wrapped around her waist, and it pulled her a little closer. He seemed to want to say something, but for another minute or so, he was quiet, as if struggling to get the words out.
At last, he spoke. “I was very scared, Rosalie. I thought… I thought perhaps you were going to… Well, I didn’t know if I was going to make it in time.”
His hand tightened on her waist, and her mouth went very dry. “You didn’t seem scared,” she murmured. “You seemed confident and in control.”
“Good,” he laughed, “that’s what I wanted you to think. But I was scared.” His eyes burned for a moment, and then his fingers went to her hair and intertwined themselves around her locks. At the same time, his other hand traced up her back, rubbing it gently. Both sensations felt so wonderful that she had to close her eyes briefly and suppress a shudder.
When she opened them again, his eyes were smoldering as they gazed down at her.
“You know exactly how to comfort me,” she whispered.
“I just pay attention,” he said, his voice a low, earthy growl.
Rosalie suddenly realized that she was trembling, not from fear or from crying but from another emotion. She had never felt so safe or so protected as she did in this moment, and as she looked up into the Duke’s eyes, she had also never felt so cherished.
His fingers tightened in her hair, and he pulled her closer. “Rosalie,” he murmured, “I just want you to know that I would never, ever let anything bad happen to you. That’s a promise. I hope you know that”
“I do know that.” Her heart felt as if it was in her throat. The Duke was so close; his eyes were melting into hers; his fingers were cupping her face.
“Good,” he murmured, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “But just in case you need more proof…”
And then he kissed her. And it was better than any of the books she’d read had ever said. It was better even than she had dreamed it would be.
Chapter Twenty
“You don’t have to carry me to bed,” Rosalie murmured from his arms. She had her head resting against his chest, and Nathan was carrying her through the halls of the castle, back to their bedroom.
“You were falling asleep over dinner,” he pointed out as he navigated past a suit of armor, making sure to keep her feet from hitting it. “And you’ve had a very trying day.”
“Well, that’s true.” Against his chest, Rosalie snuggled closer, and Nathan felt a deep sense of contentment wash over him.
It had been a mellow day, ever since he’d rescued her from the collapsing room in the West Wing. He had insisted that she rest after her brush with death, and they had spent the day playing backgammon, reading, and otherwise doing very little. Still, she was exhausted by the end of it, and when she’d nearly fallen asleep in her soup, he had decided it was time for bed.
They reached the end of the corridor where their bedroom was, and Nathan reached around Rosalie to open the door. Once they were inside, he carried her over to the bed and deposited her down on the blanket.
“You’re going to have to call Clara,” she murmured, her eyes already closed. “I don’t know how to get myself out of these clothes.”
“Let me,” he said.
Her eyes snapped open at these words, and then she narrowed them. “You’re going to undress me?”
“Just for bed. You’re far too tired to do any more kissing.”
Nathan smirked. That was the other thing that they had done occasionally throughout the day. He was pretty sure he could spend the rest of his life kissing Rosalie and never get tired of it. Her lips were so soft, her skin was warm and silky, her hair fragrant, her body?—
Get your mind out of the gutter!he snarled at himself.
