The roast chicken and vegetables were as good as any she’d ever eaten, and the creamy egg custard tasted like pure Heaven on her tongue, but she missed Wadebridge, and wondered where he’d gone.
Was he somewhere in this enormous house, seated at a table in one of these countless rooms? Was he, too, dining alone when they might’ve shared their supper? Perhaps he’d stepped away to give her space to settle in.
She was hours away from home, in a strange house, in a strange county that could not have felt further from Longstone had she crawled here. What Cassandra truly needed washimby her side.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
The house was dark. Only the dull yellow glow of lamps flickering in their sconces illuminated his path, but Wade knew the way. Besides, he did not have far to walk—the duchess’ apartment neighbored his own suite of rooms.
He’d given her the best accommodations, for Cassandra Staunton was duchess of his heart, if not his name. He afforded her all the courtesy and respect that a mistress of Pender Abbey deserved.
Wade stopped just outside her door. He’d allowed her time to explore these new surroundings; a chance to bathe, eat, and relax after a long day. He’d given her an opportunity to meet his staff and assert her authority without his presence looming over their shoulders.
But this was a new world, and Wade did not intend to make her face it alone.
He knocked upon the panel of gilded wood that separated them, and then waited for her to answer. There was, of course, a chance that she wouldn’t want him. She could very well turn him away, but if they were to become lovers, she must grow accustomed to having him around.
Physically.Intimately.There was no better way to foster togetherness—to spark desire—than for a passionate woman and a hot-blooded man to share a bed.
Again, he knocked.
This time, she answered. “Who is it?”
“Wadebridge. May I enter?”
There was a pause as she hesitated—she was a gently-bred virgin undressed and alone in bed—but Cassandra was made of sterner stuff. This brave lady invited him in.
Wade stood just inside the doorway, pushing it closed at his back. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. He scanned the elegantly appointed chamber to find her huddled beneath the covers.
She looked so tiny in the oversized bed. He’d only ever seen her in hoops and layers of skirts, and was surprised at just how little space she took up without all the fashionable trappings of her fair sex.
He felt like an ogre who’d stolen the princess. At any moment, some fair gallant might burst through the window and slay him where he stood. The dream would be over before it began.
Cassandra’s blue eyes sparkled from across the room. She sat up, clutching the counterpane to her chest. Dark hair hung loose in soft curls over her shoulders. She wore nothing but a thin night rail on this hot summer night.
His mouth went dry. Wade licked his lips and somehow mustered the courage to explain, “I recall you’ve never spent a night from home, and thought you might be frightened.”
She smiled. Did she not believe he’d remember? “Iwasfeeling rather anxious. The room is so large and this bed is so different from my old one at home. I’m unsure what to make of it all.”
She flipped back the bedcovers and scooted to make room for him on the mattress. Though he rarely bothered with such formalities, Wade wore his nightshirt and dressing gown tonight. He stripped off the quilted, belted robe and tossed it over the settee, and then climbed into bed with the woman he loved.
Cassandra was courageous—and probably glad to see him—but her eyes were as wide as saucers. When his thigh brushed hers beneath the sheets, she nearly tumbled backward off the mattress trying to put some space between their bodies.
He reclined on his back, arms folded behind his head, which was cradled on a feather pillow. He daren’t lay a hand on her so long as she felt skittish.
After a moment, she settled against her own pillow and turned to face him. Cassandra kept the covers draped demurely around her, and tucked between her side and his.
The line had been drawn.
He would not cross it until she invited him.
“Where were you?” she asked, at last.
Wade stared at the velvet canopy above their heads. “In my own bedchamber for a bath and a bite of supper.”
And a shave, just in case.
While the rasp of a long day’s whiskers added a certain spice to an experienced seduction, he didn’t want their first time in bed together to be unpleasant in an way. Tonight—and every night until Cassandra Staunton made him her own—he’d come to her with cheeks as soft as a kitten’s nose.
