She smothered a grin as the impressive Durham carriage rolled up in front of the Forster residence. It was as big and powerful as its owner, its black steel gleaming in the torchlightand the rampant lions on the Durham crest emblazoned on the door looking ready to leap out and devour her.
Rob helped her climb in, lightly wrapping his hands around her waist to give her the slight boost. She sat on the forward-facing bench seat and watched Rob settle into the seat across from hers, leaning his broad shoulders against the soft leather squabs.
“How does it feel to be a duke now?” she asked, for they had not seen each other much in the months leading up to his inheritance of the title. He looked quite big within the confines of the carriage.
And quite daunting.
“I don’t mind the added work. In fact, I am enjoying it. But I detest the attention.”
“You have always had the ability to command a room, with or without your title. People always notice you.” Because he carried himself with an elegant grace, moving about a ballroom with the confidence of a panther on the prowl.
He was giving her that panther look now, those shimmering eyes trained on her as they rode along the familiar London streets that were eerily quiet at this hour. All she could hear was theclop-clopof the carriage horses as their hooves hit the ground, and the squeak of carriage springs as they jounced along.
She blushed under the force of his stare. Shivers of delight ran through her despite her efforts to ignore the raw heat of him. “I am going to jump out of your carriage if you continue to look at me this way.”
“How am I looking at you?” Even his voice held power, for it was deep, smooth, and dangerous.
“You are already imagining me in your bed.”
He shrugged. “You are the one who suggested it. Having second thoughts?”
“No.” Giving him full access to her body was the perfect solution, and they both knew it. He would satisfy his fantasies and move on.
She would satisfyhers. An entire week with Rob to give her memories to dream on. Hot, set-fire-to-the-bed memories to warm her lonely nights.
And why not?
She noticed his hands, big and slightly roughened because he was no dandy. She noticed his smile, the way it shone through his silver-flecked eyes and seemed meant just for her. Most of all, she loved the quiet seriousness about him, a trait he’d displayed even as a child, an innate confidence and assurance that instilled trust in all who knew him.
A week seemed a proper length of time for both of them to get what they needed from each other and move on.
“Would you like to come in for a cup of tea?” she asked when they had arrived at her elegant townhouse in Duchess Square, one of those lovely Mayfair enclaves lined with pretty trees and blooming flowers, particularly wisteria in April and May, and roses throughout the summer. “We can discuss this plan further, if you wish. Or do nothing of the sort and simply chat about things in general.”
“Not tonight, Fiona.”
She swallowed her disappointment, for she had not expected him to refuse her invitation.
He led her to the door and watched as she turned the latchkey to let herself into her home. There was no butler on duty at this late hour to open it for her, nor would she ever assign anyone on her staff to such a duty, forcing them to stay awake for hours when she was fully capable of letting herself in.
Rob entered with her and made certain nothing was amiss before turning to leave. “Lock that door after me.”
“Yes, sir,” she replied with military curtness, then smiled because she loved that protective quality about him.
He would make a good husband and father someday. Those protective instincts were very strong in him. Yet he would never be overbearing or demanding.
“Will I see you tomorrow, Rob?”
“No.”
“Oh.” She had been invited to supper at Cherish’s home. Gawain’s friends, Lynton, Camborne, and Ramsdale, were to join them with their wives. The four men had been considered Silver Dukes, handsome, fortyish, dashes of silver at the temples, and confirmed bachelors until meeting the women who had won their hearts.
But if Rob was not to be there, then would she be the odd female in their numbers?
“Reggie will probably attend the supper party to even out the table,” he said, reading her thoughts. “Margaret is visiting her parents this week, so he’ll attend on his own.”
Lord Reginald Burton was Gawain’s nephew and Rob’s best friend. He was also related to Fiona, a first cousin once removed, if one were to adhere to the precise terms for lines of descent and consanguinity. Reggie was a good soul and would be excellent company. “And you? Did they not invite you?”
“They did. But I have Durham business matters that need my attention. I’ll be leaving for Devonshire first thing tomorrow morning.”
