This surprised Emily. She liked to believe the married couple never found reason to quarrel. “Why?”
Displeasure replaced Cecily’s normal serene expression. “We are to stay a few days at the Kensington country estate. It abuts Marcus’ father’s estate,” she reminded Emily. “Flavion is not there but his wife will be.”
“Daphne.” Emily vividly remembered the woman who’d fought with Cecily in the Serpentine last spring.
They’d literally wrestled in the mud.
Cecily let out a huff. “Yes. Normally Stephen makes these visits on his own. Or his steward, Mr. Thompson, comes to us at April Heights. He knows everything Daphne has done and yet he doesn’t understand my reluctance.”
“Why don’t we all simply stay at April Heights?”
“It would require driving another twenty miles.” Cecily tipped her head back against the cushioned seat and closed her eyes. “I know I’m being petty. The house, why, of course, it’s massive. But…”
“You spent the most horrible months of your life in that house,” Emily supplied.
Cecily nodded, nearly imperceptibly. “I don’t wish to inconvenience Marcus and you. It adds a tremendous amount of travel if we were to go all the way home.”
Emily pinched her lips together. Cecily ought not be required to stay in the home of her husband’s former mistress. Her former husband’s mistress that was. Cecily had once been the countess herself.
“I wish Marcus was willing to go directly to his father’s estate.” Emily hadn’t forgotten her promise, but it ought to be obvious to all that she and Marcus should simply stay at his father’s home. If he was ever to resolve the issues he had with his family, he needed to spend time in their company.
He needed to find his peace.
She glanced out the window ruefully. If she emphasized Cecily’s discomfort at the current plans, likely Marcus would see the right of it. She merely needed to help him understand.
Marcus fought the inclination to go directly to his wife after dinner. After resolving yesterday that he would end all of their relations, he’d broken at the slightest hint of her tears.
How had he come to be so entranced by Miss Emily Goodnight? If he’d been warned even a month earlier that he might succumb to her charms, he’d have laughed out loud.
Not viciously but without even considering such a notion.
Whether she’d intended to do so, or had done so unconsciously, she’d been hiding from the world. Hiding from men.
He’d been the lucky one to pull off her mask and reveal the sensual woman she was.
And that, he lectured himself, was why he’d given in to her apology so easily.
Sex.
Damned if he hadn’t been ruled by his cock for most of his adult life. Hell, not only his adult life but half his childhood as well, if he were to be truthful to himself.
He’d been aware of her every move throughout dinner.
The manner in which she tasted every item of food the innkeeper presented to her, whether it looked appealing or not. She was always willing to try something new. She’d move it around on her plate, cut it into tiny pieces, and then tentatively place it in her mouth. When she enjoyed something, she savored every last bite. When she wasn’t certain, she tried a second bite, just to be certain.
There were very few morsels she outright rejected.
Not unlike how she approached other… experiments.
Which was why his inclinations drew him to her tonight.
It had nothing to do with him wanting to talk to her. Only there were a few things…
He’d like to ask her opinion as to how he ought to renew his relationship with his mother and sister. Discuss the argument Nottingham was having with his wife and find out what Emily thought of it. Tell her of the book he’d remembered having read a few years ago…
Oddly enough, he’d discussed more of his life with Emily over the past few weeks than he’d done with anyone, Stephen Nottingham included.
And look where that landed him.
