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A long time passed with her head fallen on his broad shoulder, her legs dangling from the side, his arms about her frame. Pops in the fireplace sprinkled the silence.
“I left early this morning. Could not sleep,” he started.
Otilia breathed a small laugh of understanding. “We might have missed each other by minutes.”
“I will take solace in the fact the torture went both ways.” A strong hand combed through her dishevelled hair.
“As if I did it on purpose.” Her hand slid to his neck.
“You did not. But you may not repeat it.” The command had the usual effect on her skin.
“Yes, my feudal lord,” she teased, and he smirked. “Did you have a good day, by the way?” She changed the subject.
“Quite a bit of learning, I must say.”
“Spring is a busy time.” Her head rested back on his broad shoulder.
“I had no idea,” he commented, his nose diving in her orange blossom scented hair.
“Did you not?” Surprise entered her tone. “Nature bursts in so many colours. It is magical.” A faint smile came to her lips.
“And the manor bursts into work,” he contributed.
“No doubt. But fulfilling.” She paused for a few seconds. “I learned everything from Aunt Agatha.”
“You were fond of them, I can see.”
“They became the only family I had.” Wistfulness expressed in her voice.
“And you became theirs, I’m sure.”
“I have always been grateful to them for welcoming me.” A little sigh escaped her. “Else, I would be headed to an orphanage. Or worse.” She could not help thinking that any lack of opportunity might have cast her into desperation enough to walk the streets.
“You made them happy in return. I know it for a fact.” He reassured her.
“Good to hear it.” Her head burrowed further in his shirt covered chest. Only now did she realise the busy day took its toll.
His gaze turned to her, his lips trailing her temple, her cheeks, her pert nose. “Come, Siren. Time for bed.” Strong legs stood up and carried her to his large, fluffy bed.
With care, he placed her in the smooth sheets, undressed to his small clothes and climbed in, spooning her, arms surrounding her waist. They slept at once.
CHAPTER NINE
“Miss Kendall, a letter for you.” Dawson approached her with a silver tray in the morning room.
They had arrived in town yesterday after a week in the country. A busy, steamy, excruciatingly sensual week. The mere memory of it made her go crimson.
Edmund sat across from her with his paper seeming aloof. They had done the usual morning exchanges though they had parted at dawn.
A delicate hand took the missive from the tray. “Thank you, Dawson.” The butler retired with a bow.
The Earl deigned to lift his chiselled face from his reading. “Who is it from?” The raspy question scattered goose-bumps over her skin and memories in her head.
With a glimpse at the folded correspondence, she answered. “It must be from the Dowager Marchioness if I recognise her handwriting.” She did not exactly know what they would do with the ton’s invitations. This might be one. She hoped they slowed on the number they accepted since finding a husband did not figure as a priority for her. Though finding a wife would do for him.
This was a thought she did not care to have.
Otilia was about to open it when she heard a little mew. Her eyes lowered to the carpet to see Coal coming in her direction. The kitten must have missed them. With a tender smile, she took him and placed him on her lap, hands stroking the neck. The tiny darling purred. It had grown and fattened but still had much to mature.
