Page 52 of Stolen By the Duke of Stone

He would go riding, he thought—anything other than return to his house to eat an awkward breakfast with Jessamine.

If she thought last night was the beginning of something⁠—

Well, they would have to cross that particular bridge when they came to it. And he hoped not to come to it for some time yet.

When Jessamine descended downstairs for breakfast, she found the breakfast room empty.

Her stomach dropped.

This was his usual time for eating; by London standards, he was an early riser, choosing to do more with his day than ladies and gentlemen often did.

Evidently, he had chosen to do even more than usual.

Jessamine pinched her nose, calming herself. So her husband was avoiding her after he had put his mouth between her legs in a manner she had not known was enjoyable—but what did that matter?

Better they both put the event entirely behind them.

She reached for the marmalade and slowly spread it over her toast. “Do you know where His Grace is?” she asked the footman who brought in a tray of hot tea.

“I believe he went out, Your Grace.”

“Will he be back for breakfast?”

The footman’s gaze darted from her to the empty seat at the other end of the table. “I’m afraid he didn’t specify, Your Grace.”

“Very well. Thank you, Thomas.”

The footman bobbed his head again and bid a hasty retreat. Jessamine poured herself some tea and gathered up the last of her wounded feelings, tucking them away again.

This was perfectly fine. She was a duchess, and she had plenty of things to do with her time that did not involve a reticent duke.

After finishing breakfast, she retired to the library, where she wrote a series of notes to her friends.

If Andrew was going to be out, then she would be, too. The weather was sunny, and so she invited Irene, Temperance, and Lady Marwich to a picnic in Hyde Park.

Next, she descended into the kitchens to speak with the cook to ask if a picnic could be made at such short notice. With much smiling, the cook assured her yes, but the moment she left the kitchens, she heard his voice rising in anger as he commanded new ingredients to be bought and preparations to be made.

No doubt she had put herself in the cook’s bad books for the foreseeable future, but she couldn’t remain in the house any longer than she absolutely had to.

That done, she retired upstairs to where Lucy was holding William against her chest. Something inside Jessamine loosened when she saw the baby. He had largely recovered from the colic now, although he grizzled for no reason sometimes still, and he turned his large, blue-gray eyes on her as she reached for him.

“William,” she said, nuzzling her face into his hair. “I declare you’re growing bigger every single day.”

“That he is,” Lucy said with a smile. “He’s happy to see you.”

William’s chubby hands fastened around one of her curls and held on for dear life. After a moment’s consideration, he brought it to his mouth, and she disentangled herself as best she could.

“I’m happy to see him,” Jessamine said. “Sometimes it feels as though he’s the best part of every single day.”

“That’s how it feels,” Lucy said, smiling. “He’s a sweet lad, I’ll say that. How was the christening?”

“You were there.” Jessamine laughed, settling into the rocking chair and adjusting William in her arms. “I think, for the most part, it went well.”

She hesitated, thinking about Andrew, his sorrow over his cousin, and the way he had held her when she’d confided in him about Percy. That had been painful, as well, but also incredibly rewarding.

And that was enough thinking about that.

“It went well,” she said again, and changed the subject. “I thought I would go for a picnic in Hyde Park today with some of my friends. Temperance and Irene and Lady Marwich.”