There was a knock on the door and her heart leapt into her throat. She spun around, pulling the edges of the gown close. “Come in.”
The handle twisted and in strolled the duke, a glass of amber liquid in his hand. He was still clothed in his evening clothes and raised a coolly mocking brow, holding up her note between his thumb and forefinger. “You summoned me, Adeline.”
“I was not sure if I was to make my way to your chamber,” she said tentatively.
There was something undeniably disturbing in his eyes. “For what purpose?”
“I may not know the full of it, Edmond, but I am certain my duties as your wife extend to me being with you in your chamber.” She fought the blush climbing her cheeks, striving to appear self-assured.
His lips twisted slightly. “Ah…so you are ready to fulfill your marital duties? I had not thought you so aware of what that entails.” His tone was dry, his expression inscrutable.
“I beg to differ. I have lived in the country most of my life. I dare say I have an idea,” she said teasingly. Her smile faltered when he failed to respond. How was she to pierce his aloofness? Should she even be trying? “Are we to be at odds so soon?” she asked softly.
He stiffened and then scrubbed a hand across his face. “Forgive me, Adeline,” he said, regret heavy in his tone. “I am being slightly boorish.”
She arched a brow. “Only slightly?”
He smiled, and she rocked back on her heels. The man was simply too handsome for his own purpose.
“Being married…though it was a decision I made in earnest, I find I am plagued with more doubts than I expected.”
Oh. That bit of honesty warmed her heart. “I think it is normal to feel doubt, not that I am an expert on marriage,” she said with a small smile. “And our situation was highly unexpected.”
“Hmmm,” he murmured noncommittally, sipping his drink. But his eyes…they devoured her, from the top of her head to her toes in a slow heated sweep. What was he thinking?
Her heart seemed to flip over when his eyes finally collided with hers. The expression of raw need in his gaze both frightened and excited her. “Should I…should I go on the bed?” She didn’t have much of an idea what should happen, but she knew enough that it must happen there underneath the covers. Adel had heard enough giggled whispers from the maids at her former home.
A disturbingly sensual smile curved his lips, yet his eyes remained guarded. “While there is distinct appeal in the notion, I believe you need time. There is no rush.”
This Adel had not expected. “Thank you for being so considerate, but I assure you, time would only serve to fuel my anxiety.”
“I had thought you would be pining over Mr. Atwood.”
Adel gasped. Edmond was blunt to the point of being distressing. A gentleman would not so willingly hint his wife might be in love with another man. Would he? What was even more startling, she had not given Mr. Atwood a thought since she married Edmond. Her heart ached with the knowledge she would have wedded a man she apparently had little or no romantic feelings for. “Mr. Atwood is in the past.”
Edmond downed his drink and moved farther into the room. He placed her note on a small side table and rested the glass on it. Then he sauntered over to her, his movements so graceful and masculine she was mesmerized. There was a startling surge of heat in her veins, and a flutter wormed its way through her heart. It was an unfamiliar sensation, but not an unpleasant one.
He skimmed his fingers over her cheek, and then dragged the pad of his thumb across her lips. “Is he?”
She swallowed. “Yes.”
“A few days ago you were planning on marrying him. You were so certain of your affection you took radical steps to climb into his bed and into his life. Are you saying that you did not love your young Mr. Atwood?”
A soft pain sliced through her heart. She had assuredly been fond of James. The only man with whom she had laughed, bantered. They had even exchanged a few chaste kisses. However she would admit she had been desperate to marry him because of how strident her papa had been in pressuring her to marry Lord Vale. Without her father’s ambitions, she would have waited until she and James had formed a stronger bond. “I had affections for Mr. Atwood, and I respected him. They have not disappeared despite his inconstancy, but I am now attached to you.”
Cynicism twisted Edmond’s lips and she hated to see it there.
“I do not need time,” she insisted. “I would prefer to get it over with.” Her stepmother’s only advice in relation to the martial bed had been “Do not brace against the pain or it will make it harder, and if your duke is the sensible sort it will prove to be stimulating.” The mysterious it once again. Adel would have preferred to have had the knowledge of what she should expect in the marriage bed rather than wait in anxiety. Though if what she had experienced in his arms was a precursor she was baffled as to how it, could ever be unpleasant.