Page 25

‘No, do that again,’ he said, putting her wrists back where they had been. She explored his firm skin, using her thumbs and fingers to try to work out the knots.

The duke—no, Alaric—closed his eyes, but despite her efforts, he seemed even more tense than he’d been before. But she didn’t understand why. His expression seemed almost pained, but she continued massaging his shoulders. She lightly grazed his skin with her fingernails, and she could see goosebumps rising upon his neck.

His stare burned into hers, and she drew her hands up to his face. She wanted him to kiss her, wanted to know what it would be like to feel his lips on hers. For a heartbeat, it looked as if he would.

But then he lifted her off his lap and stood. ‘That’s enough for tonight.’

Without another word, he walked away and left her alone in the study.

Charlotte tried to push back the sting of embarrassment at his rejection. Rule 1, she reminded herself. This is a marriage in name only.

Alaric was grateful that the roof repairs had begun swiftly. Already, the leaks inside the house had stopped, and without winter air blowing inside, it was considerably warmer.

But it did little to improve his mood.

He’d tossed and turned most of the night, furious with himself. He’d never wanted to desire his wife. Consummating the marriage was meant to be a duty, not a pleasure. But when Charlotte had sat upon his lap yesterday, he’d wanted nothing more than to kiss her deeply. His mind had conjured all sorts of unholy images that had led to sensual dreams in the darkness, infuriating him that he was powerless to brush aside such feelings.

His own father had loved his wife so deeply, it had shattered him when Marianne had died. Alaric had never seen anyone so broken. Nathaniel had retreated from the world, barely leaving the house except when his Parliamentary duties had demanded it. Even then, he’d been a shadow of his former self. Then, last year, he had slipped into senility, forgetting that he’d been a widower for over a decade.

After watching his father’s decline, Alaric had sworn that he would never, ever let himself fall into such a state of helplessness. Despite his growing feelings for Lenora, he’d kept their courtship secret. Even when he was starting to suspect he could be at risk of falling in love with her, he’d been careful to hold himself back. He didn’t want anyone having that level of control over him.

He’d never told Lenora that he was developing feelings for her. And she hadn’t said anything either.

It was for the best, Alaric decided. He could now focus on what mattered—rebuilding the estate and reconciling his father’s debts. Charlotte was a distraction he needed to avoid for now.

But even as he sat at the dining table for breakfast, he noticed the sprigs of holly decorating the table. Even in such a short time, her presence was everywhere.

Not only with the greenery, but he’d also noticed a lighter mood among the staff. There were new footmen and maids, and the servants seemed to be smiling more. Even the food was better, he had to admit.

He had just finished eating breakfast when Charlotte stopped by the dining room. She was dressed in some sort of purple gown with a pelisse, and her hair was tucked away in a matching bonnet. ‘Good morning. Do you have time to accompany me to the village today? I need to do some shopping.’

The idea sounded awful. Alaric despised shopping with everything in him. But before he could refuse, his wife added, ‘I would like to buy some Christmas presents in the village, to offer our support to the local shops and merchants. If you came with me, I think it would mean a lot to them.’

He started to refuse, but she rested her hand on his. ‘I promise, it would only be for a little while. And in return, I am glad to offer a favour to you. Simply tell me what you need.’

What he needed and what he wanted were two different things. His traitorous mind envisioned his wife standing in her bedchamber naked. Immediately, he shut down the thought.

‘Go and spend what you wish,’ he said. ‘Buy whatever you need from the merchants. But I cannot go. I have a great deal that I need to do here.’

Her face fell. ‘Are you certain? I had hoped…’ Her words fell away as she seemed to understand that he had no intention of accompanying her.

But before she could pull her hand away, he took her palm in his. ‘Take a footman and your maid with you.’

‘I was going to ask you to show me what you want for Christmas.’ She continued holding his hand. ‘I still don’t know you very well. I don’t know what presents you would like.’

It wasn’t at all what he’d expected her to say. Why would she concern herself with shopping for him?

‘There’s no need to get me anything,’ he said.

She straightened and gripped his hand slightly more. ‘Oh, you will be getting Christmas presents. And if you don’t tell me what you want, you’ll be getting socks. Or new cravats.’

He laced his fingers with hers and stood from the table. ‘Socks will do well enough for me.’

‘Woollen socks that itch?’

He raised an eyebrow. ‘You would be that cruel?’

‘Only if you’re being difficult.’