Chapter Fourteen
Telling Xander her identity should have been her priority, but getting to know him without the pressures of being a titled lady was too satisfying to give up.
She’d slept like the dead after Xander strummed her body to the stars, but in the cold light of early morning, her thoughts became jumbled.
She wanted him, of course. Craved that breadth and brawn, that delectable throat hollow, his rough hands and soft lips.
But more, she had seen enough of his perspective on the Parliamentary laws and his treatment of those around him that she needed him forever, in fact might already be in love with him.
At that thought, her heart pounded. The stakes in her strategy were higher than she’d ever imagined they’d be.
She ought to speak to her aunt. Aunt Lou always had the best plans, and this one had to be perfect, showing him all the ways she could be his perfect wife without lying to him for so long it would cause irreparable damage.
But how to finagle a visit? Louisa was often out and about with friends during the afternoon, and that was when Xander liked to meet with Evie.
So she’d ask for a morning off and race to the village and back in a half day.
In the meantime, she was going to enjoy her time with him.
As she approached the dining room that evening, a shiver ran through her, and she rubbed her hands together in eagerness. There was a lot of Xander to explore, and perhaps he’d allow her the opportunity to learn his body as he had hers.
When he entered a minute later, and they sat, she explained, “I did not wish to tax Cook’s budget or creativity, so we’re having the usual three-course ‘at home’ supper of an aristocratic household. I hope that is all right?”
She was essentially taking on a duchess’s role by directing staff about meal planning, while in reality—for the moment—she worked for the housekeeper, as did the chef.
But no one questioned her. Perhaps, like the rest of the staff, Cook was deferring to the more casual, respectful approach Xander employed.
Or he may have told them to honor her requests.
Either way, informing him of what to expect helped prepare him as requested.
“’Tis fine.” His response brought her back to the dining room. “Three courses is already too much, given how much less exercise I get these days. Are all dukes overweight?”
She giggled. Indeed, many were. “It varies. Some ride their land to stay fit, particularly as those with tenant farmers need to check on crops and disputes and such. In London, they’d ride in Hyde Park.”
“Can I walk it?”
“You can.” She drew out the words, doubtful. “Whether you walk or ride, in London you’ll be stopped every few feet for social niceties, as ’tis a very popular spot to see and be seen.”
His lips twisted in distaste, and she nearly laughed, having anticipated this response. “You get up hours before most of the Ton, my lord, so you’ll avoid most of it. And there are other parks.”
He grunted.
“Shall I request wine and the start of supper service?” She stopped. “No. You should. ’Tis good practice. Just don’t growl at them as you do me when you’re being ducal.”
He stared, and she went into gales of laughter. “You know what I mean.”
His mouth twitched. He raised a hand and took a breath to call a footman. Before he could utter a word, the man was at his side. “Wine, Your Grace?”
Xander blinked, and she had to raise her napkin to hide another grin. Then he replied, “Yes, please, Duncan.”
Evie started. She knew the man’s name, but rarely did dukes refer to their servants by their first—or even their last name.
When the young man started to pour his wine, the duke growled, despite her directive. The footman stopped, spilling a few drops on the tablecloth. “I’m ever so sorry, Your Grace. Is the wine not to your liking? I can get something else. And I’ll clean that up right away.”
Xander was frowning. “I haven’t tasted the wine, but I’m sure ’tis fine. Serve the lady first, however.”
“Ah, no, sir. Duncan had it right. He serves you first as the highest ranked person at the table.”
“Not in my house.”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re going to have to let some of your principles go, you know, so when you host a party in London, it isn’t a complete scandal.”
“My plebeian sensibilities have no place in a ducal drawing room—or dining room, is that it? I don’t care. And I don’t plan to host people who do care enough that it would be called a scandal.” He gestured. “Now, go ahead, Duncan. Sorry to startle you, and please give my apologies to Jenny.”
Again, Evie was shocked he knew who washed laundry for the household.
He caught her expression. “I like to know who is handling my smallclothes, don’t you?”
She snorted. Next to her as he poured her wine, Duncan’s hand shook, and she heard his stuttered breath as he fought laughter as well.
They reviewed another law as they dined. When she had one last swallow of wine, Evie cleared her throat, needing to tackle a sensitive subject.
“What is it?” Xander was watching her.
“As much as last night was quite enjoyable, you need to learn to dance. And I cannot afford to gain a reputation by you dismissing the musicians a second time.”
“They wouldn’t dare.”
“They wouldn’t dare about a duke. But about a young woman alone with him?” She gave a shrug and a wry smile.
He grunted again. She should probably encourage him to stop that, but she rather liked the honesty of his sounds of disgruntlement. There’d be time enough to accomplish the fine polishing.
He placed his serviette by his plate and stood. “I understand. Dancing it is.”
They danced, first the waltz, then a quadrille as best they could without other partners. By the end of the hour, she was breathless from exertion and longing.
Her fingers and thumb would not meet around his bulging arm.
And that divot at the base of his neck had caused her to miss a step more than once when they were waltzing.
She’d moved on from wanting to rest her fingertip there to wanting to suck it, having taken a page from his book from the prior evening.
Panting, she raised a hand at the end of the song. “Water, please.”
“How about an ale?” he asked. “I bought a barrel from the pub in town.”
“I’ve only ever had an ale once when I was young and stole my cousin’s. Ladies—girls,” she amended quickly, “are not encouraged to drink ale.”
He snorted. “You must be joking. They quaffed it with the best of ’em in the pub back home.”
Not having an answer, she shrugged.
“Come with me.” He grabbed her hand, thanked the musicians, and tugged her down the hall to the kitchen.
He’d set the barrel on two thick planks of wood running alongside it so it wouldn’t roll off the counter.
Now he grabbed two tankards and held them under the tap one at a time, passing her the first one.
Evie looked at the amount of beer in her cup warily. She enjoyed wine, but that was for sipping. She did not wish to lose her head around Xander, he was heady enough without alcohol in the mix.
Stepping to the kitchen door, he asked, “Shall we enjoy them by moonlight?”
“I’m not at all certain we’ll see the moon behind the clouds, but I’d love a stroll through the gardens.
” Taking a tentative sip of her ale, Evie found it refreshing.
It had an odd taste, perhaps from the way it fermented or the fact that it came from barley, but it wasn’t bad. Just something to become accustomed to.
They strolled and sipped without speaking for a few minutes before he gestured at a stone bench.
She sank down with a sigh, and he settled beside her, sitting between her and the house. Backlit, he was all shadows and outlines, his massive shoulders blocking much of the light.
He set his tankard on the bench next to him and turned to face her, further darkening his features. “What is that look for?”
“It occurred to me—this morning, as I slept remarkably well last night—”
He barked a laugh.
“—that last night’s fun was rather one-sided.”
After a startled look that she’d reference their escapades of the previous night, he shook his head. “Not at all. That is why I thanked you. Seeing you come undone was the highlight of my entire time here.”
She glanced down and sucked in a breath then looked him in the eyes. “Then I’ll say it differently. I should like to have the opportunity to make you come undone. But as you might have guessed, I am unsure how to do that. Would you be so kind as to teach me?”
Her mother would have fainted dead away at her boldness, but Evie was proud of herself.
On the other hand, her aunt would be clapping.
Her mother had taught her to go after what she wanted but to work within society’s confines.
Her aunt had told her to ignore those limits. Either way, she wanted Xander.