Page 51 of Unbound Duchess

“Does the Duke of Wynter know you have changed your plans, Your Grace?” Geoff whispered to Laurence.

He did not answer. Did not move. All he could do was stare at the beauty in emerald green walking down the stairs toward him. Yearning blasted through him at once. He’d been busy the last week—traveling between London and Wynter to help Solomon find more clues about Benedict’s involvement in the auction.

Through the days, his head was solely on the need to bring Benedict down. At night, though, when the dark was quiet and he was alone, his mind wandered back to Ellen. The feel of her in his lap. The sound of her whimpers and moans. The taste of her lips. It all came pouring back to him, rendering him so full of need that it was only by using his own hands that he could relax enough to sleep.

He’d missed her. He wasn’t supposed to, but he had.

Ellen’s smile was breathtaking as her blue eyes landed on him, and his heart swelled as she saw gratitude rushing into her gaze.

“You came,” she breathed as she and Madalene reached the bottom of the stairs.

I…um…I mean, we…” Laurence rasped out. He dragged his gaze down her figure again, his body responding to every pronounced curve. He swallowed. Words. He needed words.

His gaze shot back up to her face, as if not looking at her delicious figure would bring them forth. He still struggled.

“Brother,” Madalene’s tone had an annoyed edge to it as she said the single word, but it was enough to snap him out of his reverie.

“Solomon and I decided that it would be best that you and I arrive as a couple,” he all but blurted out. “We thought if Benedict saw us together it would heighten his rage and make him more inclined to speak less carefully.”

A glimmer of disappointment passed through Ellen’s eyes, but her smile remained as she nodded. Madalene, however, looked at him coldly as she blandly said, “How romantic.”

Laurence turned to his sister, giving her a silent warning to watch herself.

“You both look lovely. Shall we go?” Laurence asked, waving a hand toward the front door. “Solomon is meeting us there.”

“He’d better be,” Madalene scoffed as she tugged Ellen along with her. “If Ellen gets to be escorted in, then so do I. I certainly am not about to walk into the ball alone since you are stealing my sister away from me.”

Despite his annoyance, Laurence smirked and followed closely behind the two women. In the carriage, Ellen and Madalene sat together on one side, their arms firmly interlocked and giving him no other option than to take the vacant seat on the opposite side. His gaze landed on the way the two women’s arms stayed wrapped around another’s, and he was startled by the overwhelming urge to pull Ellen out of his sister’s embrace and perch her atop his lap. He clenched his fists at his sides to stop himself, and forced his gaze to the window as they made the silent trip to London.

“There you are,” Solomon said, his tone full of annoyance as they found him waiting outside the Bloomington estate. “I keep telling you to move into your London house until this business is over.”

Laurence smirked as he stepped out of the carriage.

“I will if you will, old friend,” he retorted. Solomon sneered. He enjoyed living in London about as much as Laurence did.

“We are not that late,” Laurence said, turning his attention to the carriage. “Besides, these lovely ladies are owed their time in preparation.”

Laurence held his hand out, and a spark of desire flooded his veins as Ellen slipped her gloved hand delicately into his. She gave Solomon a bashful smile as Laurence helped her down from the carriage, and Laurence could not help but feel pleased by how embarrassed his friend suddenly looked.

“We apologize if we kept you waiting,” she said kindly, curtsying toward Solomon.

Solomon quickly ceased his gaping and answered first with a charming smile.

“Do not be ridiculous, Your Grace,” Solomon replied as he bowed his head. “A lady is always worth waiting for. Hello again. Do you remember me?”

A strange, powerful, foreign shot of jealousy speared Laurence’s heart as he watched his friend go from impatient to insufferably gentle with his wife.

Mine, a feral voice snarled from within.

“I do. It is lovely to see you again, Your Grace,” Ellen replied politely, offering him another curtsy. “And please, call me Ellen.”

“Well then, you must call me Solomon, please,” he urged. “We are friends now, after all.”

A biting retort teased at Laurence’s tongue, but before he could hurl it, Madalene’s voice, clear and full of annoyance, came from within the carriage.

“Are you going to help your other friend?” she called, poking her head out to glare at Solomon. “Or am I going to have to climb out of this thing all by myself?”

Laurence watched as Ellen pressed her lips tightly together to stifle a laugh. He, however, was not so kind, and chuckled deviously as he gently put his free hand to her lower back and guided her to step to the side.