Chapter 23
E mily entered the blue suite with Adam behind her, and the sound of the closing door felt far too loud.
The rooms were ready for them as they needed to be, and she didn’t know exactly why she found that irritating.
The candles burned on the mantelpiece and beside the washstand, the fire had been stoked, and a folded blanket lay across the foot of her bed.
Someone had placed a pitcher of warm water near the basin, as if this were any other night and she were any other duchess returning quietly from an evening of cards, music, and polite conversation.
Adam shut the door, and she heard the latch catch.
She did not turn at once.
Her gloves were still in her hand. Her skin still remembered the dance. Worse, it remembered the room earlier, his loosened cravat, his hand on her waist, and the unfinished closeness that had followed her into the drawing room like a secret under her ribs.
“You may stop looming now,” she said.
Behind her, Adam did not move. “Am I looming?”
“Yes.”
“All I am doing right now is standing.”
“Well, you stand rather aggressively, Duke.”
“That is a new accusation.”
“It has been a long evening. I have had time to collect several.”
A knock came before he could answer, and Emily closed her eyes.
Adam made a low sound that might have been laughter if it contained any amusement. “Perfect.”
The door opened only a crack, and a maid dipped into a quick curtsy at the threshold. “Forgive me, Your Graces. I was asked whether you required more warm water or another candle for the adjoining chamber.”
Emily turned with her best composed smile, though every inch of her felt too aware for courtesy. “No, thank you. This will do.”
The maid glanced at Adam, then lowered her eyes at once.
Sensible girl.
“Shall I send anyone to assist Your Grace with your gown?”
“No,” Adam said, his voice perhaps a bit too sharp.
Emily looked at him, and the maid froze.
Adam’s jaw tightened. “Her Grace will ring if she requires assistance.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
The maid vanished, her steps retreating down the hallway, quick and careful.
For several seconds, both Adam and Emily listened until the sound faded. Then, there was only the fire, the candles, and the space between them.
Emily set her gloves on the nearest table. “That was gracefully done.”
“You wanted privacy.”
Her heart gave one hard beat. “Did I?”
He took one step toward her. “Don’t.”
She frowned. “Don’t what?”
“Use that voice.”
She laughed. “It is the only one I have.”
“No,” he said. “It is not.”
She turned fully then.
He had not removed his coat. He looked as severe as he had in the drawing room, but the severity no longer held. There was strain in the line of his mouth, and his gaze was too direct.
“What voice would you prefer?” she asked.
“One that does not pretend to be innocent.”
“I have not pretended anything tonight.”
His laugh came low and rough. “No. You made certain of that.”
Emily’s chin lifted. “If you have something to accuse me of, Your Grace , do it plainly.”
His gaze sharpened at the title. “You know what you did.”
“I attended dinner. I listened to music. I danced with my husband.”
“You let that room look at you.”
She stared at him for half a second, then gave a disbelieving laugh. “I beg your pardon?”
“You heard me.”
“I let the room look at me?”
“Yes.”
“How wicked of me. Shall I apologize for having occupied space?”
His nostrils flared. “You know that is not what I mean.”
“No, Adam. I know exactly what you mean.” She stepped closer because anger had burned the caution out of her.
“You mean Lord Vale smiled too long. Lord Redwick breathed in my direction and should have been buried under the floorboards for it. Marina made us dance, and I did not flee from you as if your hand on my waist were a punishment.”
His eyes darkened. “Careful,” he warned.
“No.” The word left her clean, and he went still.
Emily felt the danger of that stillness, and for once she did not retreat from it.
“You do not get to be jealous like a husband and absent like a stranger.”
His expression changed. Only a fraction, but she saw it.
“You think this is jealousy?”
“I think you nearly broke a glass when Lord Vale complimented me.”
“Well, you must forgive me for being skeptical about a man who looked at you for too long.”
“He was being polite.”
“Oh, really? Was that what it was?”
“Yes. Guests do it. It is considered good manners at dinner. You may want to try it sometime.”
“Do not make a jest of this.”
“I will when you stop sounding like a madman.”
The room seemed to tighten around the words.
Adam closed the remaining distance with slow, dangerous control. Emily held her ground, though her body knew him before he touched her. She knew the heat of his skin and the way he looked down at her.
“I was wrong before. You have no idea what you have done to me tonight,” he said, his voice low. “Do you?”
Emily’s heart rate quickened. “Something tells me you are about to let me know anyway.”
Adam blinked and took a step back. “What?”
“Please. It is not like you were being subtle, Your Grace . I saw you at dinner. Do not stand here and accuse me of noticing what you could not hide.”
His breathing quickened, but Emily pressed on because stopping would be mercy, and she was tired of giving him mercy he never asked for.
“If you want distance, behave like a distant man. Do not follow me in and out of rooms. Do not touch me as if restraint hurts you. I know what it means.”
“Emily—”
“No.” Her voice shook, but she did not soften it. “You do not get my confusion anymore. You do not get my innocence. I am tired of you coming to me one second, then pulling away the other. I wish you would just be a man and make up your mind?—”
His hand came up so fast she thought for one breath that he meant to stop her with touch. Before he could finish speaking, his fingers closed around her waist, firm enough to still her. “Enough.”
“Is it?” she whispered.
His gaze dropped to her mouth.
“Say another word,” he rasped, “and I will forget every sensible thought I have left.”
Emily’s pulse leapt. “Then perhaps you should have kept more of them.”
That was the final straw that broke him.
Before she could speak again, he leaned in and took her lips with a force that made her fingers clutch at his coat before she had decided to move. The world narrowed to heat, pressure, and the rough sound he made when she kissed him back.
She did not yield gently.
She met him with everything the night had built in her, every look, every denial, every unfinished touch, and every refusal. His hand tightened on her waist, and her palm slid up his chest. He drew her closer, and the last inch between them disappeared.
Adam tore his mouth from hers only far enough to breathe. “Emily.”
This time, her name sounded like surrender.
She tilted her face up to his again.
“It is fine,” she breathed. “Now I see what I have done to you.”