Page 70 of A Necessary Wife

“No, Papa. I just want you.”

He glanced down at Lucy in irritation. “Do not dismiss your mother. She is a good woman.”

“She’s not my mother. She tricked you and everyone says⁠—”

Milo placed a hand over whatever Lucy was about to say next. “What have I told you about repeating gossip?”

“But Papa! It’s true! You’re always with her now and forget all about us. You don’t love us anymore,” Lucy accused, pouting.

Whoever Lucy was listening to, they needed their neck wrung. He knew there would be gossip about the speed of his second marriage, but never had he expected to have his child hear it and repeat it to him. “She is nothing of the sort.”

“She’ll be your ruin,” the child claimed, even though she could have no idea what she was saying.

He glanced at Phillipa and saw her nod, agreeing with the child.

“You are too young to understand.” He knelt before his daughter. “I love you and Adam equally. You are my children. I would do anything for you. But Amelia is my wife and deserves respect.”

“Respect must be earned,” Phillipa murmured, but her brows rose. “Where is your wife this morning, Milo? I sent a maid up to your room, but she wasn’t there. I’ve barely seen her in the drawing room the last few nights. Does she have other interests on the estate?”

“I know exactly where my wife is at all times,” he promised, scowling.

He would have to deal with Phillipa before too long. He glanced over his shoulder impatiently, impatient for Amelia to come and take the children away so he could.

She appeared from around the back of the greenhouse, as if she was coming from a long walk alone.

Amelia acted surprised to see them together and he beckoned her to join them. “Here’s Mama now.”

Lucy grabbed his hand and tugged hard, trying to draw him away from Amelia and toward Phillipa. “We’re having breakfast with Grandpa, Papa.”

He dug in his heels, waiting for his wife. As soon as Amelia’s gaze met his, desire pulsed between them.

He forced his impulses down and allowed his daughter to pull him toward the manor house and the breakfast room.

Perhaps he had been spending a little too much time alone with Amelia, and he clearly needed some distance from her to keep his passions under control. There was also Phillipa’s influence to counter. Lucy was at an impressionable age and he’d chosen Amelia for his bride to be a steadying influence on the girl.

At the doorway to the morning room, he glanced back, checking that Amelia had followed. She walked beside Phillipa, saying nothing and looking uncomfortable again.

The yearning to wait, to take hold of her hand and keep her by his side, remained strong.

He resolutely turned his back on the temptation she presented and joined his father at the table, devoting his attention to his children and their immediate needs.

Passion would have to wait until nightfall.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Amelia did not trust herself when she finally stepped into the morning room, following her husband, unfriendly stepdaughter, and would-be rival.

Her lips still tingled from Chatham’s kisses. Her breath still hitched at the memory of his hands on her hips, his thigh pressed between her legs, and the raw, consuming hunger she had felt rolling off him like heat from a fire. She had expected awkwardness after their night together, confusion, and a retreat into polite formality once again.

She had not expected…more passion.

She was still clutching the sides of her cloak like a lifeline as she wished the duke and duchess a good morning.

She forced herself to breathe evenly, to hide the storm of unsatisfied need inside her. Desire to aid procreation was one thing. This fierce obsession was another.

Unceasing passion was dangerous.

Her pulse quickened at the mere thought of sitting beside Chatham at breakfast. To be that close and unable to reach for him would be exquisite torture.