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Going by how vocal they'd both been the past two nights, he didn't think seducing her would be any more appropriate than the discussion he had in mind. Loud talking would easily be heard by the coachman, much less shouting of any kind. Besides which, they had a very long ride ahead of them, he didn't particularly want any kind of encounter with his wife that would make it awkward or uncomfortable.

Leaning his head against the back of the coach, he looked out the window and watched as the streets of Bath rolled by to give way to meadows. Grace fit under his arm perfectly, her soft snores making him smile. On the ride into Bath, she'd barely been able to look at him, much less sit beside him. Now she was snuggled up right where she was supposed to be.

For now he could wallow in contentment, but he knew that they would have to talk eventually. Hopefully it wouldn't ruin the way things had been going between them.

******

That night, at the inn, Alex didn't try to press Grace into deep discussion. He thought about it, but when she gave him a saucy look and asked if he could help her disrobe, he allowed himself to be distracted again. Hopefully the foundation of physical intimacy that they were building would help to promote emotional intimacy.

He certainly felt as though they were becoming more joined together, as he moved inside of her, their eyes locked together, bodies moving in tandem. Every touch, every kiss, every moan, broke apart the barriers between them just a little bit more. It was tempting to think that they wouldn't need to talk at all, but even with Grace cuddling beside him, her hand on his chest and her head nuzzled into his shoulder, he knew that it wasn't possible.

This was an idyllic moment out of time, where they were neither here nor there, but traveling both physically and metaphorically. They were both acting as if there was nothing wrong between them and never had been, but until they addressed the past, they couldn't really move into the future. Even though she gave herself to him every night, even though their conversations had become much more natural, there were still times when she would hold herself back. Times when he would feel his own anger and mistrust rising - especially when a letter from Conyngham caught up with her.

She'd given him her return letter to mark and post. It hadn't been sealed. He'd gritted his teeth, sealed it and sent it on without reading it, hard as that had been. Even though he knew she'd left it unsealed so that he could read it, he was determined to show that he trusted her.

Besides, she'd read aloud the letter that Conyngham had sent her, which had mostly been full of gossip from the capital, including his current rivalry with his best friend over another woman. Grace had seemed quite amused and Alex had told himself that he had no cause to be jealous. She certainly didn't seem upset that Conyngham had already moved on from her, so why should he be upset that the man was contacting her?

Still, that night he made her climax over and over again until she was nearly limp and begging him to stop, before he took his own pleasure. Proving to both of them that he had full mastery over her body, doing his best to wipe away the memory of any other man.

After almost a week of traveling, they finally reached his estates, and Brookeside, the main house. Everything looked exactly the same as he'd left it, the rolling hills around the house, the white walls of Brookeside's impressive front, flowering bushes decorating its edges, but it felt completely different. Because, for the first time in years, he was here with Grace. In fact, they'd only been here as a married couple for a few nights. The rest of their time they'd been on their honeymoon or in London.

Now he was returning home, with Grace on his arm, fiercely triumphant in getting her back where she was supposed to be. The look on her face, as she stepped out of the carriage, was both wistful and wary.

Peters opened the door for them, and Alex felt Grace jerk beside him. He supposed he should have warned her that her former butler was at Brookeside, but he truly hadn't thought of it. There'd been too many other things to consider. However, her stiffness told him that might have been a mistake. Just seeing Peters was bound to remind her of her staff's betrayal when Alex had come to collect her - as well as the fact that he'd had to collect her at all, that they'd been apart, and all the reasons for it.

"Welcome home, my lord, my lady," Peters said smoothly, stepping back and bowing his head slightly.

"Don't pander, Peters, it doesn't become you." The waspish tone of Grace's voice grated over Alex's nerves. She'd lost that edge during their time in Bath and he wasn't happy to hear it back, even if he understood why.

Putting his hand on the small of Grace's back, he pushed her gently forward, away from the butler. Recriminations weren't going to help any of them right now. A quick glance at Peters showed that the man wasn't offended by Grace's reaction, he was watching her with a mixture of regret and worry. Alex shouldn't be too surprised, after all, Peters had gotten to know Grace's whims and moods quite well over the years.

He was surprised to feel the slightest twinge of jealousy about that.

"Peters was just doing his job, sweetheart," he murmured, as he guided Grace towards to staircase to the upper level. "Don't blame him for that."

The look that Grace gave him was not promising. "So you're saying I should blame you?" she asked, smiling at him in a poisonously sweet way that made his hackles rise.

"We'll discuss this later," he said, firmly. Because he could tell that this discussion was going to go straight to their past and their estrangement, and he didn't want to start that in the hallway, when they'd just finished traveling. Both of them were tired, dirty and in no kind of mindset for such an important conversation. Besides, if he let her have her way now, they'd end up fighting and he didn't want that either. "For now, I'll have a bath sent to our room so that you can bathe and change."

Dark eyebrows rose as she looked up at him, her venom tempered by confusion. "What will you be doing?" She blinked. "Our room?"

"I need a quick word with my steward about the estates, now that I'm back. And yes, our room. I sent word ahead to prepare the rooms accordingly. By now you should be used to sharing a room with me."

Pushing open the door to said bedroom, which was actually his room, he ushered Grace in before she could protest. Her mouth worked, but snapped shut when she saw that Rose was already in there, waiting for her. Alex grinned at her suspicious look, which was also tempered with relief. Perhaps a bath and then some food would soothe the savage beast.

Once they were calmer, and in a better frame of mind, they were finally going to talk about why she'd left him and how they were going to go forward from here. This time, he didn't care if she stripped naked and danced for him, he wasn't going to be distracted again.

******

Grace almost hated to admit how much she needed the bath. It had been prepared while Rose helped her undress, and the hot water had soothed muscles that ached from riding in the carriage. The roads hadn't been too horrible, but there was always a bit of bouncing, and her neck ached from sleeping on Alex's shoulder the day before. The hot bath also soothed other aches, between her legs.

They'd made love every single night, and sometimes the next morning as well. Alex had been absolutely voracious, even more so than he'd been on their honeymoon. Not that she'd been protesting, although she certainly wasn't used to this much activity down there. Before her lovers had always been at her beck and call, coming over only when she desired company or comfort or pleasure. Now, she had no choice

. Although, Alex always made her want it, despite the aches of her inner muscles. He always made sure she found her pleasure too, before he found his. Sometimes multiple times.

Sighing, Grace relaxed against the tub, feeling rather drowsy from the heat surrounding her. Rose puttered about the room, unpacking Grace's things. At this point, Grace had nearly forgiven the maid for actually being in Alex's employ. She supposed she should forgive Peters too, although somehow she felt that betrayal even more keenly than Rose's.

Perhaps because she'd confided in Peters about her innermost thoughts and feelings nearly as much as she had in her lady’s maid, Rose, but she'd always seen him as a protector. He'd stood between her and Society, stalwart and unbending, keeping the worst of the gossip-mongers from her and removing anyone who upset her. More than one person had found themselves in the bewildering position of being dismissed from her house by a mere butler, with all the civility and manners one could expect, and yet the dismissal was just as firm and just as final as if it was from a Duke.

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