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“Then avail yourself of my resources,” Ethan said with a smile. “You do not need to walk around with that worry that you will ever be asked to leave. You are Verity’s family—hence, you are also mine. I know Verity has been teaching you your letters and how to read. More must be done. We will start with hiring tutors for reading, geography, arithmetic, fencing, and riding lessons.”
The boy’s mouth curved into his crooked smile, and the tension about his shoulders eased. He hugged the kitten to his chest in a tender clasp as they strolled and chatted for several minutes about their mutual interests in kite-flying and fishing. When Artie departed, that air of anxiety no longer lingered about him, and he had a confident bounce in his stride.
Ethan walked toward the eastern side of the estate. He had seen Verity run there, as he stood by the windows, telling Thomas about his father. Ethan should be meeting with his estate’s steward, but he wanted to see her. He chuckled ruefully, still amazed at the constant feeling of want that pulled him to her presence. Several minutes later, his steps faltered as he spied her sitting on the swing he had loved as a child. She rocked gently in the swing, staring at the sketch pad on the grass.
Today she wore a yellow day dress which clung alluringly to her figure. Wisps of hair escaped her topknot and framed her lovely features, and with a smile, he noted her feet were bare, even of stockings. Glancing around, he saw the discarded boots and white stockings resting by the trunk of the tree.
She looked girlish. Innocent. Sweet. Just lovely. So very opposite to the wanton who had sunk her cunny onto his cock last night and slowly ridden him until he had fisted the sheets and almost begged for mercy. A hot bolt of sensation shot straight to his cock, and he almost cursed to feel himself stirring. Almost every night, he loved his wife most thoroughly, sometimes slow and gentle, other times deep, fast, and hard, as he used her warmth and sweetness to chase away the shadows that clung to him. His wife never seemed to mind when he tupped her hard, and her release at those times was powerful and shattering.
Verity pushed the swing again, and as she lifted her chin, he spied the remnants of tears. Something violent and dark moved through him, and he wanted to slay whoever placed it there. He moved toward her, and her head snapped up. A smile lit up her entire face, striking his heart with her prettiness. Something fierce clutched at his chest, and he released a slow breath. He wanted her to smile at him like that always, to feel the brightness and beauty of it.
Without speaking, Ethan went behind her and pushed her swing so that she soared higher and higher still. She laughed, the sound loud and sparkling. He pushed her for several minutes, letting her soar and feel the wind on her face. Then he slowed his motions, stopping the swing and went and sat beside her.
“You were crying,” he said gruffly.
Her breath hitched, and she sat silent for long moments. Ethan did not rush her, trusting that if she wished to reveal her thoughts, she would. If not, he would respect her space and silence.
“I was creating a storybook for Thomas,” she said huskily, lifting her chin to the drawing on the grass. “From the stories you told him. I wanted him to have it, to always remember his father. Then I wondered what story I would tell him of Catherine. Do I tell him she had fallen into a deep melancholy, and that the scandal and pain haunted her so much she abandoned him for a future that did not include him? What do I tell him of his mother, Ethan?”
He closed his eyes against the pain in her tone, regret sitting on his shoulder like a boulder. His duchess rested her head on his shoulders, and they rocked.
“Tell him about the sister you grew up with,” he said gruffly. “The one you loved so much you would leave everything behind to be with her in her moment of uncertainty. Tell him about the adventures you had as children. Show him why you loved her.”
His wife sighed, and then she smiled. “You are right, my darling.”
That endearment jolted him, and then a rush of pleasure filled him.
“Do you want me to find her?”
With a gasp, she sat up and stared at him with widened eyes. “Do you believe you can?”
“I am the Duke of Bainbridge,” Ethan said. Then he smiled. “I will try.”
“In her letter to me, Catherine said she was going to Paris. That is it, Ethan. That she had met someone, I cannot imagine who, and—”
Verity slapped a hand over her mouth. “There was a scholar who passed through the town. He was from France and was the cousin of the local squire. He was one of the only people pleasant to us, and I saw him once in deep conversation with Catherine. Could it be he that she exchanged letters with? But of course,” Verity said excitedly, “Who else could it be?”
He took her hand between his. “Then we will start there. I will hire a team of investigators, the very best, and I will find her for you.”
A dark feeling passed through his heart, and he acknowledged that once Catherine knew of Verity’s new status, she might very well reveal why she had unceremoniously left the baby on his doorstep. Clearly the lady knew of his part in the affair between her and Oscar; otherwise, how could she have known where to leave her son. He glanced at Verity, and the way she smiled at him then, her eyes sparkling with hope and tender emotions, stopped the words that hovered on his tongue.
Fucking hell.
“What is it,” she whispered, touching his jaw. “You look so…savage. What are you thinking, Ethan?”
He hauled her into his arms and took her mouth in a kiss of violent tenderness. She gasped and melted against him. The raw feelings bubbling inside immediately soothed as he accepted her submission to their passion, her trust, and the love he could see in her eyes.
