Celia cast him a quick glance, and he couldn’t help but return her stare. Of course, testingherwould be no hardship. He was certain she would pass any trial he concocted, from comportment to the pleasures they could share.
She blushed, almost as if she read his mind, and her gaze slid to her plate. But she smiled, a secret little expression that told him she was thinking of their stolen moments in the garden. How he wished he could have had more time with her. That they wouldn’t be interrupted. That he had carte blanche to touch her as he wanted to do.
“I hope you do notonlysee it as a duty,” Mrs. Danford said, intruding upon his thoughts.
He blinked. “Marrying?” he asked, trying to bring his mind back to the current moment.
She nodded, and he smiled once more at her protectiveness of her sister. Celia deserved that. She would need it even more once he was finished with her and her hopes were dashed.
That sobering thought brought his mood down, and he cleared his throat. “You and Danford seem to provide a great deal of proof that it can be a pleasure,” he said.
Mrs. Danford beamed down the table at her husband and then the conversation shifted to other topics. Clairemont found himself looking at Celia once more, examining her features and wishing more than anything that he could plan a true life with her, not just use that idea as a way to further his investigation.
But he couldn’t have that. Because at the end of this, he would no longer be the Duke of Clairemont. And he would never see Celia again. A thought that turned his stomach and made his chest ache.
“Thank you, Ruth,” Celia said as her maid gathered up her clothing from the day to be washed and pressed. “Good night.”
“Good night, miss,” Ruth said with a smile as she left Celia’s chamber.
Once she was alone, Celia returned to her mirror and stood before it, looking at her reflection. Although she’d seen herself thousands of times over the years, tonight she felt like she was looking at a stranger. In the garden, Aiden had changed something in her. His mouth on hers, his hands touching her, her realization of his desire for her…all that had shifted her to a new place. She couldn’t go back.
And it seemed she might not have to. After all, before he’d left, he’d held her hand a moment too long, stared into her eyes just a little too intently. He wanted her as much as she wanted him. There was only one way that would end if he were a gentleman and she a lady.
Yet she wasn’t completely thrilled at the idea of a future with him, not because she didn’t want that, but because he remained a mystery in so many ways. Tonight he had withdrawn a fraction after supper. She’d felt his hesitation, but what was it born from?
The only thing she could think of was past. In the garden she’d felt his pain on the subject, and inside he’d seemed just as uncomfortable when he spoke to Rosalinde and Gray about why he’d hidden out in the countryside, why he had been so reluctant to return to his place in Society.
There was a great deal beneath the surface with this man. Sometimes she caught a glimpse of a roiling sea of emotion and heartache that he kept secret, quiet. She found she wanted to know itall. To share it every bit of it. To ease it all the best she could.
In the hallway, she heard the soft sound of voices. Gray’s voice, answered by Rosalinde as they made their way to bed in the master chamber at the far end of the hallway. There was a tone to their voices, even if Celia didn’t understand the words themselves. Whatever they said was born from deep intimacy. Love. Potent desire. Her sister let out a soft giggle and then the door to their chamber shut a bit too loudly.
Celia closed her eyes. Rosalinde had taken chances it had always come naturally to her. In fact, Celia knew that her sister and Gray had engaged in physical intimacy before they were wed.
For Rosalinde, making the decision to give herself to a man was a different situation, of course. She had been a widow when she met Gray, so there were fewer consequences to such an act.
For Celia, surrendering her body was far more dangerous, with many more potential consequences.
And yet shewantedto take that risk. Shewantedto offer comfort to Aiden. She wanted to connect with him on a deeper level and help him see that it was safe for him to share his heart with her. She wanted to ease the ache he caused deep inside of her when he touched her or kissed her with such passion.
And yet being so bold as to take or even merely ask for what she wanted was terrifying. Celia had the barest bones of knowledge on what happened between men and women. She’d heard what she should expect when she was engaged to Gray’s brother, the Earl of Stenfax. Certainlythatwould never be enough to properly seduce a man of experience like Aiden.
But she did want to get closer to him, to feel and understand the passion he inspired. To be his in every way that mattered. To make him hers in the same way.
She thrilled at that admission, made only to herself in her head. Even thinking those words, imagining what would happen between them if she overcame her fear, made her body throb. Her nipples tingled, and low in her stomach there was a flutter of need and pleasure.
But the question now was how to suggest such a thing to him without risking rejection. And also if she could manage to be bold enough to enact any plan she did concoct.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“Your Grace, Lord Stalwood is here to see you.”
It took a moment for the butler’s words to register in Clairemont’s head as he sat as his desk, staring at a ledger without truly seeing it. Tracing money had never been his favorite part of being a spy, but normally he wasn’t too preoccupied to perform his duty.
“I am in—please show him here, Richards.”
The servant bowed out and, in a moment, returned to announce Stalwood. He left them and Stalwood closed the door.
“No problems with the servants we hired, were there?” he asked.
