Page 17 of Duke in Darkness

“Lilian,” he said, tapping his fingers on the dining table. “Are you well?”

She looked briefly startled. “Quite well.”

“Your lack of color suggests otherwise. I’m concerned you might swoon…face-first into your syllabub.”

As an attempt to make her smile, his joke fell embarrassingly flat. In fact, it seemed to only increase her tension, now her shoulders could probably be used to prop up scaffolding. Then it dawned on him: they had an audience. Yet another annoying aristocracy quirk he had to get used to, servants everywhere. Only a fool would be so candid in front of them; none were his men or Lilian’s for that matter. Anything said could be across London in a matter of hours.

Hell and bloody damnation.

Lilian took another sip of wine. “I assure you, Exton, I am in robust health.”

Even a blindfolded man could see his wife wanted to run screaming from the room. Perhaps the townhouse also. A part of him wanted to throw down his napkin and announce there would be no bedding, that she could rest easy, alone in her chamber. But that wouldn’t help. It would only prolong her anxiety if the event kept being postponed. Besides the fact that he was a selfish cad who had been dreaming about fucking his beautiful wife from the moment they’d met. Hell, his cock had been semi-hard most of the day, knowing that tonight she would finally be his in all ways. “Are you still hungry?”

She hesitated, clearly on the verge of telling a lie and saying she could eat enough for a regiment despite having picked at her food all evening. Then she took a deep breath and shook her head. “No. I…I am finished. But I would dearly love…a b-bath.”

Gabriel gritted his teeth. Even the thought of Lilian naked and wet had his cock surging against the confines of his trousers. He wanted to reach down and adjust himself, instead he turned to one of the footmen standing by the wall. “Advise the kitchens. A hot bath at once. In Her Grace’s chamber.”

The footman gulped. “Yes, Your Grace,” he replied, scooting from the dining room at great pace.

Smiling inwardly, Gabriel placed his napkin on the table. When he spoke in short, clipped sentences to hide his affliction, he actually sounded rather ducal. “Allow me to escort you…upstairs.”

Good God. That particular pause made him sound like the worst of rakes.

Lilian nodded graciously, and another footman dashed forward to pull back her chair. Soon they were on their way to the second floor, his wife’s nerves obvious in the rigid press of her hand on his sleeve. When they reached the door to her chamber, she hesitated again and looked at a spot over his left shoulder, her cheeks pink.

“I…I will be ready shortly. I just need to bathe. And ch-change. And braid—”

“Lilian,” he said gruffly, patting her hand when a part of him wanted to pull her close and stroke her hair. “Take as much time as you need. I’m not going to say something trite…like don’t be nervous. It’s new. It’s unknown. But I swear I’ll be…as gentle as I can.”

In the warm glow of the lit hallway candelabras, a hint of a smile lifted her lips. “Thank you, Exton. You needn’t worry. I know my duty as a wife and duchess is to provide heirs, and the line must be secured as soon as possible. I will, of course, permit you entry to my bedchamber whenever you wish it.”

On another occasion, those martyr-like words might have been enough to kill his lust entirely. Ah, the ton and their devotion to cold duty with their spouses rather than passion. Quentin probably would have visited Lilian strictly for heir-making purposes and departed without so much as a hair out of place. But Gabriel wanted her. Badly. It would take every bit of control he possessed to go slowly, to not accidentally hurt or frighten Lilian with his rough soldier ways or the things he wanted to do to her. His tongue and fingers and cock were eager to teach her about pleasure. If he could just find the lusty woman beneath the duchess shell, the woman who had kissed him back so erotically this morning…

Gabriel bowed. “I am the most fortunate of men. Until later, then.”

IF AT ALL POSSIBLE, she would have stayed in the copper bathing tub until she grew gills. Instead, Lilian sat in front of her dressing table, trying not to shriek.

Outwardly, she looked calm, if pale, dressed in a modest, long-sleeved nightgown with lace edging and a pink satin bow securing the bodice. Dawn had expertly arranged her long blonde hair into a neat braid. But her skin was clammy, and her stomach churned. Right now she would give anything to already have this night behind her, to know exactly what marital relations entailed. To be so blasted ignorant was both frightening and infuriating.

A brief knock sounded on the door connecting her and Exton’s chambers, then he ambled in. “Your maid informed Hobbs…you were ready.”

Lilian barely suppressed a gasp. She might be ready, but the same certainly could not be said for her husband! Exton should be wearing a knee-length nightshirt. Instead, he stood before her in a heavy black silk robe, belted at the waist. And from the sprinkling of dark chest hair in the small triangle of bronzed bare skin visible, he wasn’t wearing a stitch underneath it. “I…yes.”

“You are staring, madam wife,” he said with an unexpectedly roguish grin, as he moved closer.

“Quite,” she replied stiltedly, her mind scrambling for words. He was near-naked. “Because a duke does not visit his duchess dressed in such an informal manner.”

Exton folded his brawny arms. “Really? Based on your experience?”

Heat surged across her cheekbones. “Surely it is improper?”

“We’re going to bed. Not a ball. I hope this is the last…conversation we have…about proper night attire. Christ, it’s dark in here.”

Lilian’s embarrassment at the setdown turned into confusion. Dark? As well as the fireplace, she had several candles lit, and the bedchamber had a soft yellow glow. “Do you wish me to light more candles? I’m not sure if I have any more beeswax ones. Only some spare tallow. And the smell isn’t overly pleasant.”

His jaw tightened, and one hand reached up to rub his maimed cheek. “Don’t care. Light them. Now.”

Heart sinking, Lilian hurried to obey. A wonderful start—she’d managed to anger him both with her too-blunt comment on his attire, and the state of her chamber. Could she do anything right as a wife?