Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
“ T hank you for inviting me back so soon, Your Grace,” Mr. Ainsworth said as he settled back into his usual chair in Ian’s study. “Though I can’t imagine things can have changed much with the estate in so short a period of time?”
“It is a large property. Things change all the time.”
“I see.” The old man took a deep inhale from his pipe. “And relations are not improved with your wife?”
Immediately, Ian’s thoughts flew to the taste of Cecilia’s lips, and the feeling of her soft skin beneath his hands, the contours of his body so perfectly molded for his touch.
“We are cordial with each other,” he said stiffly. “Just as before. I see no need to improve things beyond that.”
“Your Grace, the two of you are to be married for years. Decades, one would imagine. Do you really wish for your relationship with the woman you are married to remain cordial, at best? You really ought to consider getting to know the lady. If not for your sake, then for hers.”
“For hers?” Ian looked at his solicitor with a raised brow. “I assure you, Mr. Ainsworth, Lady Cecilia seems no more in a hurry than I to deepen our relationship.”
“You must try to see things from her point of view,” Mr. Ainsworth insisted. “Until very recently, she was living with her family. Mother, brother. Surrounded by friends in the ton . And now, quite swiftly—if what you say about this being a marriage of convenience is true—she finds herself in a new place, all on her own, with no one she knows, expected to run a vast household with which she is entirely unfamiliar. I would be surprised if she were not at least a little overwhelmed.”
“Not at all. If anything, she is quite the opposite,” Ian said. “In fact, my wife informed me a few days ago that she would be hosting an evening of music at the estate in a few days’ time. You ought to come, if you are not busy.”
“I received my invitation this morning,” Mr. Ainsworth replied, a twinkle in his eye. “I very much look forward to attending.”
Ian paused, taking in this information. Good god, his wife was efficient. “Ah,” he said at last. “Well. There, you see, Mr. Ainsworth. She is not struggling in the slightest.”
“Yes, yes, she is adapting to her responsibilities with remarkable speed. But I can only imagine it could only help, for her to feel supported by the lord of the house in her endeavors.”
Ian laughed. “I assure you, Lady Cecilia is far from concerned with waiting for my support,” he said, thinking of how she had told him—not asked him, but told him—about her plans to host. “And, indeed, I do not know what more support she could want. She has been given free rein to the estate coffers in her planning. Mrs. Fitzclarence and the rest of the staff have been attending to her every need, it seems. All of them have been bustling about every waking moment getting things sorted for the event.”
Mr. Ainsworth sighed. “I defer to your judgment always, Your Grace,” he said, holding his hands up in defeat.
Ian raised a brow. “Do you really?” he asked, a joking note entering his voice. “I seem to recall deferring to your judgment quite a bit over the years.”
“Yes, well, you do pay me for my expertise.”
“In legal matters, not marital advice.”
“Very well! Very well.” Mr. Ainsworth returned his attention to the legal papers at hand. Ian nodded, pleased to no longer be forced to discuss the meddlesome issue of his marriage.
But when he caught a glimpse of Cecilia later in the evening—in the parlor, cheeks lit with passion as she discussed something or other with Mrs. Fitzclarence—he could not help but let his gaze linger.
And let his mind wander to all the ways in which he, truly, wished to make their marriage more than it was.
How he would kiss along her neck, running his hands along her body until she pleaded for him to disrobe her.
How he would explore every inch of her body, teasing and torturing her with pleasure beyond what she had ever known.
How he would bring her to the edge again and again before finally burying himself inside her and allowing them both their release.
He wanted her more badly than ever. She wanted him too, that much was clear. She was just too proud to admit it outright. She would only dance around it.
Letting her host the musicale would help ease the relations between us , he thought. And as the flames between them climbed higher and higher, he was certain that it was only a matter of time before she asked him to take her to bed.
Though, for some reason, he could no longer quite convince himself that it was only to confirm their marriage of convenience.
On the night of the musicale, the parlor had been transformed.
It had always been a pleasant room, of course, with its beautiful furnishings and view of the garden. But Ian could not recall the last time he had seen it so lively, and warm. A fire crackled in the fireplace, casting a warm, inviting glow onto the walls, alongside the light of dozens of candles. The room buzzed pleasantly with the chatter of their guests, some of whom were already seated. The others were scattered standing about the room, taking in the surroundings.
“Harwick!” Zachary bounded up to him and clapped him on the shoulder. “It has been too long.”
Ian regarded his friend with amusement. “Barely a fortnight, I believe.”
“Yes, but you are a married man now! So much has changed, it may as well have been years.”
“Yes, yes.” Ian chuckled. “You seem in much better spirits now, I must say. And to think, it was only a few weeks ago that you were threatening to put a bullet in me.”
Zachary grew a bit more somber at that. His grin faltered. “Ah. Yes. You must forgive me for that, Harwick. I mean, you can hardly blame a man. With my father gone, I am the man of the house. Cecilia is—was under my care.” He let out a breath, rubbing his hands together and shaking his head. “In any case, it has all worked out now, isn’t it? You are hosting the musical event of the season, and my family’s reputation remains unscathed. Things could have turned out worse, would not you say?”
Ian paused, then smiled, clapping Zachary back on the shoulder. “Absolutely. Bygones, my good man.”
Zachary’s smile reappeared with relief at the mended bond between them. He leaned in, brow raised. “You are taking care of my sister, I hope? I should like to avoid challenging you to another fistfight.”
Ian laughed at that. “I imagine you should like to avoid such a thing,” he said teasingly, “given how poorly your last attempt turned out. Fight would imply you managed to land a single blow.” Zachary swatted his arm. “And as for your inquiry, I invite you to see for yourself. You know better than I that your sister is more than capable of taking care of herself. She has taken to the role of duchess quite easily. As a matter of fact, she organized this evening.”
Zachary nodded, taking in their surroundings. “A fine evening it is, indeed,” he said, smiling in approval.
At that moment, Cecilia approached them, with her mother in tow. “Brother!” she said warmly, embracing him. Ian was surprised to see no animosity from her to Zachary, despite how angry she had been with him the last time they had seen each other, on their wedding day.
“Sister.” After they left the hug, he held her at arm’s length, taking her in. “You look well. I was just warning the duke that he had better be treating you well.”
“Of course he is,” she said smoothly, her tone betraying no conflict. She glanced up at Ian for only a moment. “I am quite happy here. Even happier, now, to have you and Mother visiting.”
“Oh, you know we could not have missed it,” Lady Lindbury said, clutching at her daughter’s arm. Ian noticed how, whenever the two of them were together, Cecilia rarely left her mother’s side. He knew it was not uncommon for mothers and daughters to be close, of course. But there was an interesting undercurrent of protectiveness, almost, to the way Cecilia kept a hand on her mother’s arm. As though she were the one caretaking her mother, not the other way around.
“Of course we could not,” Zachary laughed. “Mother would have had my head otherwise.”
“Zachary!” Lady Lindbury chided him, though she smiled broadly.
“It is true! It is your first evening hosting as a duchess, after all. Ian was just telling me that you put this entire evening together yourself.” He looked once more about the room. “Who knew that you were such a gifted hostess?”
“You would have,” Cecilia said teasingly, “if you had not spent the entire last year away from home. Our social life did not cease entirely just because you were away, you know. I helped Mother plan quite a few events at our house while you were gone.”
“That she did,” Lady Lindbury agreed. “Still, it is all the more remarkable that you accomplished this as sole lady of the house. I am so proud of you, my sweet Cecilia.”
“Yes, well. Consider me impressed, as well,” Zachary said.
“Do not be too impressed,” Cecilia replied, though she smiled as she looked about the room, seemingly pleased with herself. Ian could not help but trace the line of her neck with his eyes, recalling how it had felt to kiss the skin there, and all of the little gasps and moans she had let out while he touched her. “The evening has not even truly begun yet. Though we will be beginning soon.”
“Ah, yes,” Zachary laughed. “I suppose I should begin finding my way to my seat, then?”
“Yes. If you would like the best possible view, may I recommend you sit over here?” She gestured to a seat in the front row, near the end—right next to where Miss Nancy Banfield was sitting, as it so happened. Ian’s jaw tightened as he realized what she had set her mind to, yet again. “And know that if I catch you sneaking out at any point, I will never let you hear the end of it.”
Zachary waved her off. “Yes, yes, of course. I would not dream of it.”
“Good,” she replied.
“Harwick, old man, good to see you.” Zachary shook his hand, nodding. “Come find me at the interval, won't you? I am sure we have a great deal more to discuss.”
“Certainly,” Ian said, shaking his hand back vigorously.
After Zachary went off to his seat, he and Miss Banfield struck up a conversation. Cecilia went to leave, but before she could, Ian stopped her with a hand on her waist. He leaned in, so that his lips just barely touched the shell of her ear, pitching his voice low so that only she could hear him.
“Do not think I am unaware of what you are up to, wife,” he said, his voice a low growl.