“And you, Deene. Do you find yourself interested in other women?”
He straightened and ambled over to the couch to retrieve two pillows. One he tossed to the floor for his knees—he intended to be kneeling for some little while—the other he placed in the middle of the desk blotter. This was a delaying tactic to allow him to choose his words carefully.
A man wanted to say the right thing, to be honest, but not more honest than he had to be.
“I desire only you, Eve Denning, and cannot foresee a time when I will desire anybody else but you. I desire you right now, in fact, and in less than five minutes, I will desire you even more than I do at this moment. My fervent wish is that your inclinations are similar with regard to the person of your husband. That you enjoy his attentions—and his attentions only, I might point out—makes you a devoted wife and the farthest thing from a wanton.”
She wasn’t fooled. He could tell by the exact, curious angle of her head that she understood his words were only a limited reply. As Deene sank to his knees between her legs and breathed in the clean scent of his wife’s intimate person, he realized he was not going to tell her he loved her until he’d also been honest about how far he was willing to go to achieve his ends where Georgie was concerned.
“Deene?” Eve’s hand landed in his hair. “Lucas, what on earth are you—?”
He settled his mouth on the seat of her pleasure, and for long moments thereafter, the only sounds in the library were the cozy hiss and pop of the fire, and Eve’s sighs of pleasure.
When he’d introduced his wife to one more avenue of sexual pleasure, Deene let her bring him off with her hand—something she had a positive genius for—then set their clothing to rights, unlocked the door, and ordered luncheon from the footman in the corridor.
Married life worked up a man’s appetite.
“I do wonder, you know.” Even though she wasn’t quite as prim and tidy as she had been thirty minutes earlier, Eve still managed to project an air of domestic calm.
“What do you wonder about?”
“Are all new couples as… enthusiastic about their marital duties as we are?”
Her question was fraught with insecurity, making Deene regret his earlier reference to the damned succession. “Ask your sisters, why don’t you? I’m sure they’re dying to hear what you think of marriage and of my efforts as a husband and lover.”
Her brows rose. “One doesn’t think to discuss such things, even with sisters.”
“Yes, one does. I trust your reports will be flattering, so you can’t accuse yourself of breaching any kind of marital loyalty.” He frowned at her. “Your reports will be flattering, won’t they?”
She beamed at him. “They will be adoring, Deene. Gushing, breathless, and quite appreciative as well. Also lengthy—quite lengthy and fulsome. And you’re right: Sindal, Hazelton, and Kesmore all needed either an heir or a spare. I’m sure my sisters will want to compare notes.”
Which wasn’t at all what he’d meant. His muttered, “Hang the blooming succession,” however was obscured by a stout knock on the door. “Our staff knows not to knock softly when we’re behind a closed door. That ought to tell you something, Wife.”
They spent the afternoon together in the library on the sofa, Eve with the household books, Deene trying to focus on the racing-meet schedule for the upcoming season.
While he mostly studied his pretty wife.
“I’ll be going into Town tomorrow, my lady. Is there any errand I can run for you?”
She glanced up, a pair of his reading glasses perched on her nose. “You do not enjoy these visits to Town, Husband. Shall I go with you?”
He reached over to remove her spectacles. “Not this time. If you want a shopping outing, I am happy to plan one of those and trot about at your heels like an obedient swain.”
For an instant, he thought she was going to pry, but for what he had to say to Dolan, he could not have an audience, much less one as tenderhearted as his marchioness. “Will you have time to ride out with me before you go, Deene?”
“Of course.” He folded the glasses and passed them back to her. “Was it hard for you to ask that of me?”
She nodded. “I should just take the lads, make it a hack in company, but I feel… more comfortable when you’re up on Beast. I think Sweetness has a fondness for your gelding.”
“My gelding has a fondness for you. Every creature on this property is in your thrall, Wife, including me.”
He’d meant it as a tease, but in her grave smile, he saw she’d heard the truth of it too.
“I worry, Lucas Denning.” She climbed across a cushion and tucked herself against his side. It wasn’t a sexual overture, but it was an overture, and he treasured it as such.
“About?”
“I have not been this happy… ever. Not ever. I thought I was once, as a girl, but I was a fool. You know I got into some difficulties earlier, before my come out?”
Instinct told Deene that with no warning whatsoever, the moment had become fraught. He knew very well there had been difficulties, but he had not hoped she’d confide the nature of those difficulties to him quite so early in their marriage. Deene considered distracting her with kisses, but instead wrapped his arms around her.
“Your brothers mentioned some menial who’d gotten ideas far above his station. I understood it came to naught.”
He let the words hang between them while he nuzzled her temple and waited.
“I made a complete, bleating fool of myself, Deene. I jeopardized everything and everybody I loved. No young lady was ever as stupid as I, or so lucky to escape the worst consequences of her folly.”
“You were very young, as I understand it. I cannot begin to tell you the idiocies I committed when I was very young. I should be dead several times over, of drink, of stupidity, of excess.”
In his arms, he felt her relax fractionally. He might not have said the exact right thing, but neither had he said the wrong thing.
“You are such a comfort to me, Husband. I should tell you this more often.”
Deene propped his chin on her crown. “You are a comfort to me as well, Evie. I used to abhor rainy days, for example, and now I enjoy them even though you keep me preoccupied with things like ledgers, accounts, and other inescapable duties.”
She extricated herself from his arms. “Duties? Duties only, Deene?”
He nodded, his expression solemn—until she hit him with a pillow and started tickling him.
Eve endured a kiss to her cheek, and then a slow, thorough perusal from her brother-in-law, Joseph, Lord Kesmore. He sat beside his wife for two cups of tea, and then bowed to Eve in parting, muttering something about having to see to the horses.
“Louisa, did you or did you not somehow just give your spouse permission to withdraw?”
Louisa paused in the middle of chewing on a tea cake. “Give Kesmore permission? You must joking. He does as he pleases, and I am happy to have it so, that I might enjoy the same license. What shall I report to Their Graces regarding your situation here, Evie? Is Deene acquitting himself adequately?”
Oh, the reports. No doubt Anna had made one, and soon Sophie and her baron would be dropping by, followed by Maggie and the entire world.
“You may tell all and sundry that I thrive in my husband’s care.” This was nothing less than the truth. Eve glanced at the door, which Kesmore had closed upon his departure. “Louisa, might I ask you something?”
“Of course. Excellent cakes, by the way.”
Which were fast disappearing. “Does Kesmore… study you?”
“Study me?”
“Study your person? Examine you in detail?” When Louisa looked blank, Eve shifted her gaze to the fire crackling in the hearth. “Does he acquaint himself with the details of you… with the candles lit?”