Page 51 of Raising the Duke’s Unexpected Twins

“Because, love, I bought you a new gown, and I want to see you in it.” When her cheeks had fully flushed, he added, “I’d be happy to assist helping you into it, if you’d like.”

“I have maids for such a purpose,” she breathed, her mind going dazed again.

“Too bad.” His voice was low, and it only made her desire worse. “Well, enjoy it.” He kissed her hand again and then turned away, leaving Cordelia almost bereft at the top of the steps, wondering why his sudden departure made that ache fill her again.

Back in her room, her smile was wide as she saw the most beautiful gown she’d ever seen laid out on her bed. She was right then willing to believe Nicholas a truly honorable man through and through, until she spied the four new nightgowns he’d ordered as well, all silken, all low, and all nearly transparent.

She chuckled. “A rake he will remain then.”

CHAPTER 17

Nicholas slapped his glove against his thigh as he paced in his foyer. He was fidgety again, and he couldn’t sit down as he waited for Cordelia to appear.

It’s just the thought of a busy evening ahead. So many people and all of them looking to see if we really are the miscreants Wexford’s been going on about.

He didn’t want to admit that he was nervous. Nervous about how good it would feel to have Cordelia stand next to him as his wife, his duchess, and nervous about how Cordelia would feel. She was obviously not unaffected by him, but he couldn’t seem to get her to relax enough to allow him in again.

Bedding her is the only sensible thing to do. We will be better guardians of the children, then, if we get that nonsense out of the way. These…feelings are far too distracting.

He nodded at his own good sense, but the sentiments fell flat. The so-called feelings were a little more than that, but he didn’t quite know what to think about them, and they were certainly not something he’d experienced before. At a sound from the top of the stairs, Nicholas turned to look up, and all sensible thoughts, flat or otherwise, flew clean out of his head.

Goddess was the first thing that came to him. Their eyes met, and Cordelia smiled even as she looked slightly wary, descending the steps towards him in the champagne gown he had ordered for her. The sleeves were puffed, and the neckline was low with lace around the edges. It fit and clung to her every curve, and the sumptuous fabric swung deliciously as she took one step at a time, her hand sliding along the banister. Nicholas had never been so jealous of a banister before or any piece of furniture for that matter.

Idiot.

She wore long white gloves, and jewels winked from around her neck. Her dark hair had been pinned up, but two curls had been let down to frame her face, and when she finally descended the stairs and approached him, he wondered if he had taken a breath in all that time.

“I hope that a gaping mouth is a good sign,” she said with a slight smirk, and Nicholas closed his mouth, no witty reply instantly coming to his mind.

“Oh, yes -- well,” he sputtered, wondering how on earth this woman had simply wiped his mind clean with one bloody gown.

Even the most beautiful woman he had ever been with had never been able to reduce him to this, a mumbling fool. He had always been able to maintain his composure and his devil-may-care attitude. He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck, wondering if it had suddenly gotten very hot in the room.

“We should –” he motioned to the door, words still not coming to him.

She blinked up at him expectantly. “Go?” she added, and he nodded.

“Uh, yes.” Giving up words for a little while, he simply turned and offered her his arm.

Cordelia slid her hand into it, and he led her outside and into the carriage, her rosebud scent threatening to make him even more useless for the rest of the evening. But as soon as they were settled and the carriage rumbled on, he was able to grasp onto at least something, something he needed to say.

“Cordelia, you look –” he sighed, his eyes moving over every inch of her. “Like a dream.”

She looked surprised but pleased at his compliment, her cheeks pinking a little. “And you, Your Grace. Nicholas. You look very dashing, but I suppose you already knew that.”

Glad that she’d taken the reins in returning to their teasing banter, he chuckled.

“Yes, well, it is always good to hear it repeated, even if I have already repeated it in my mind.”

At that, Cordelia laughed a little louder, and Nicholas couldn’t keep the smile off his face for the rest of the ride. But as they neared the Earl of Wynnward’s home, he saw the nervousness return to her expression.

“You will be perfect. You always are,” he said softly, just as the footman opened the door to the carriage. Hopping out, Nicholas reached up for her and helped her down, savoring the closeness to her that he’d wished for in the carriage but had been too afraid he’d fumble that too and turn into an inexperienced schoolboy.

“I’m afraid I haven’t danced in a while. As I got older in my seasons, I never got asked anymore. Not very often, at least,” she confided, and he could feel her tension in the press of her hand on his arm as they entered.

“Then they’re all damned idiots, the lot of them, not noticing what a beauty they had before them.” Cordelia said nothing, and he added, “I’ll be ready for a foot-crushing dance or two with you then this evening, Your Grace.”

She slapped him on the arm, and Nicholas laughed, having never seen so many sides of Cordelia before. In the last weeks, she had shown him her sad side, nervous side, and finally, her happy and delighted side. He was even glad to further bring out her teasing side and make her bolder.