Chapter Ten
Denham House
St. James Place
Mayfair, England
“What seems to be the issue, dear?” Abigial asked as she bundled a silken wrapper around her damp body then stepped out of a porcelain bathtub in the adjoining bedroom of their shared suite.
It didn’t escape his notice that she’d used an endearment, and that hadn’t happened in a long time, indeed.
He glanced at his wife as she appeared in the doorway that connected the rooms. “This.” Crumpling the letter in his hand, he moved across the room and joined her in the doorway.
“One of my club members, Galahad, apparently had the nodcock idea to flirt with the Duchess of Thornton the other night, went as far as to proposition her, and from his own admission, she would have accepted if not for Thornton himself barging in and literally spiriting her off on his shoulder then out of the ballroom.”
“What?” Shock rounded her blue eyes. She took letter from his hand, smoothed it, and then read it to herself. “Where is Thornton now?”
“I’m assuming his country estate in West Berkshire.
” Taking the letter from her, he scanned the crabbed handwriting.
“Ah, yes, here it is. After the beast carried the duchess outside in the rear gardens, he had his way with her then once more carried her off. A footman witnessed him tossing her into his carriage that waited in the mews. Seconds later, they were off. When the driver returned the carriage to London, the rumors started to swirl.”
“Oh, dear.” She moved into the bedroom just as a horde of maids and footmen were taking the bathtub and buckets of water out. “They are married, though.”
“Yes, but why do these men think it’s acceptable to carry off a woman to God knows where to do God knows what to them?
” As he shook his head, Wallace tossed the missive into the rubbish basket.
“I thought they were a better class of men.” And why was he irrationally angry?
They could do what they wanted in their own lives.
It wasn’t as if his club would prove any more morally gray in rumors and gossip than it already was.
“Ha! That is your own fault, Eggleton. They’re not disreputable dukes for nothing.
” When she sent him a fond glance, awareness shivered over his skin.
“You spent much time granting membership only to those men in the ton who met your specifications, and now you wonder why the men you call your friends have questionable motives?” A giggle followed the inquiry, and the sound went straight to his stones.
“This is true.” Still, he worried. “Thornton has been in a fragile state for a couple of years. He doesn’t need anything else to upset him.”
“He is also a grown adult man who can ride the helm of his own life.”
“Also true, but that doesn’t negate my worry.”
She nodded. With her silvery blonde hair held back in a sloppy bun and damp curls clinging to her elegant neck, and the fabric of the thin wrapper hugging her curves, his wife was a vision.
“At times, Wallace, you need to trust that your friends can guide their own lives, that they will eventually work out the challenges that face them.”
“Of course I know that.” He sighed as he removed his tailcoat as well as his waistcoat then draped both garments over the top of a winged-back chair of blue brocade.
“I suppose I wish to feel needed by my friends. Time is slipping away so fast, and things are changing at the club. Nothing is the same as it was this time last year.”
“Don’t you think that is as it should be?
” With her help, his cuffs, collar, and cravat were quickly shed.
“People grow and change. That is the nature of life.” Staring up into his face, she offered a soft smile that had interest surging into his shaft.
“If you are well and truly concerned for either of them, send one of the men from the club to Thornton Hall. It isn’t so far from London that it would prove a difficult journey.
If all is well, then you can cease worry.
If it is not, that friend can bring the duchess back to Town. ”
“It sounds so simple when you say it, but it’s quite a difficult challenge when stuck in my brain.
” Why should he spend time agonizing over this?
Thornton was very nearly a lost cause, and hadn’t he already shown them all that he didn’t want their interference?
Kept them all at arm’s length? A sigh escaped him.
“It’s just that Thornton thinks his disfigurement makes him less than everyone else. He is hiding from life, from his wife.”
“Well, he certainly is confused about it then, if he kidnapped her and brought her to his country estate. That means there is something that still lingers between them.” Her fingers walked up his chest, the heat of her seeped through the thin lawn of his shirt to sear his skin.
His hold on sanity was rapidly thinning, for he wanted to do wicked things to his wife, and would do exactly that as soon as the conversation ended. “What would you do in my place?”
“I would let them take care of their own business.” When she smoothed her hands over his shoulders and then down his arms, the need to abandon everything except bringing her to pleasure grew strong.
“Sometimes tempers and emotions with a union need the space to flare. Only in this way will everything come out into the open so wounds can heal and new paths can be forged.”
That gave him pause, and he cupped her cheek, held her gaze. “Is that what we’re doing?” As of yet, they hadn’t returned to the relationship they’d once enjoyed, but they were close.
“We are.” As she urged the shirt up and off his body so she could smooth her palms over the expanse of his chest, he gave into a shiver.
“As much as I adore Bartholomew and see you in him at every turn, the wounds in my heart are still healing. Perhaps I need more time or more space, but eventually, all will be well between us.”
“I hope I’ve tried to show you that I’ve been true to you for more years than I haven’t,” he said in a choked whisper while he urged the robe from her form. It pooled on the floor with nary a whisper.
“You have, of course, but affairs of the heart—regardless the subject matter or how wounded or twisted those things were—require delicate care. If you give them that, they will come back to you twofold.”
“Promise?” he asked as he rubbed his knuckles over a taut nipple.
She shivered. Her eyes briefly closed, but she nodded. “I promise.” Then she reached for the waist of his evening breeches. “Take me to bed, Wallace. I find myself in great need.”
As if he could ever deny her anything. Thornton could take care of himself, for it was his mess to tidy, but in the morning, he would send a missive to a couple of club members asking if they would call on the duke to either mount a rescue mission or lend advice.