He noticed how she would not meet his eyes directly.
“I cannot manage her. Tonight was simply fortunate,” she continued.
“Yes, of course,” Richard agreed, clearing his throat. He tore his gaze away from her reluctantly. She had a grip on him that he could not understand. “I will see to it that we will find the most competent staff for that.”
Silence stretched between them, and their gazes met once more. Richard realized that his desire only continued to burn in her presence. He blamed the loose tendrils of her hair, her parted lips, and her thin nightgown for everything. He blamed his celibacy, too.
“Victoria,” he said in a strangled voice. “You ought to wear a more appropriate nightgown from now on.”
His eyes flicked back to her body and how the silk clung to her curves like a second skin. Her jaw dropped, and her eyes were on fire. She didn’t like what he said. Not one bit.
“Appropriate?” she echoed. “This is my home, or did you not forget that you said I’ve become its mistress while you remain in Hawksford Hall? I will wear whatever I please here! You should not dictate what I wear inside my own bedroom.”
“But you are not, are you?” he asked. “You’ve left your robe inside the nursery.”
“I will still return to Melody before I sleep, but that is my business.”
Richard bridged the gap between them until they were so close he could smell the clean scent of her skin. There were hints of soap and a gentle fragrance, but it was her unique smell that he found arousing.
“You are my wife, duchess, lest you have forgotten,” he said in a dangerously low voice, even as he felt his blood heat at her proximity. “If you wear that nightgown again, I will rip it from you myself.”
It was a threat, but he heard her breath hitch. Her eyes seemed to glaze a little, and her chest rose and fell more quickly. He had bent close to her to whisper his delicious warning, and his mouth was so close to her neck. Any other man would just take what he wanted, but he was not that kind of man.
As quickly as the urge to kiss her came, it vanished. He pulled away sharply, taking on the mask of controlled distance once more.
The duke knew it was a bad idea. So, he put a stop to it. He backed away, still looking at her. It was enough to see her startled face.
“Goodnight, Duchess.”
His voice was colder than before. He turned on his heel and walked away, hoping he could still sleep through the night.
Chapter Four
“Iwas not expecting company,” Richard managed. “Good day, duchesses.”
“Where’s the baby?” Marianne asked, with a sharp exhale.
Disbelief was written all over his sister-in-law’s face. Richard knew that Victoria understood her reaction. She would not expect her sisters to simply accept her current situation without expressing their opinions. She would have been worse if she were on the other side of the coin.
“Yes. I’m glad you came. It’s why I sent for you all,” Victoria repeated, looking at each of her sisters. “Mrs. Davies will be coming to bring her to us.”
Richard was shocked to see so many people in his house, but relieved that at least the sisters did not come with their husbands. Each of these sisters was enough to make any other man quake.
Marianne was a formidable woman with strong convictions, especially against hunting as a sport. However, she probably would not hesitate to hunt him if he made one mistake against her sister.
Elizabeth was gentle, but could be fearsome when it came to family members, especially when supported by her Scottish husband. Wilhelmina had the power of the pen, and Daphne was his wife’s twin, the one who would care for her the most. He could not afford to offend any one of them.
He turned to see Victoria scrunch her face as if she were not pleased to see him. He didn’t like that at all. Last night, they were so close to kissing, or at least that was what he thought. Now, they were worse than when they started, two people who had a marriage deal and nothing more.
She wore a simple lavender gown, and her blonde hair was tied in a neat, braided topknot. It was more formal than the loose tendrils made magical by the moonlight the night before, as if she were trying to regain some control.
“I sent for them,” she said simply, not looking at him directly. Her gaze remained focused on something to his right. “I need help.”
Help.
She needed help, and she decided to seek it from her sisters. Certainly not from a man whom she barely knew. Even though he was—most likely—the root of this very issue.
Mrs. Davies soon appeared with Melody in her arms. The baby was wrapped in a soft flannel.
