His eyes went wide at her unexpected curse, and he looked at her aunt was coming toward them. The woman did lookangryto see her niece talking to him.
“Is she so very bad as that?” he whispered. “I would think she’d like to see you talking with a duke.”
Adelaide shot him a glare. “Quite full of ourselves, aren’t we?”
He smiled in the hopes it would calm her a little. “Always, my dear. Dear God, she does look cross.”
Adelaide nodded. “She does.” She could say no more, though, for the lady had reached them at last. “Aunt Opal, I do hope your talk with your friends was pleasant. Are you acquainted with the Duke of Northfield?”
“Your Grace,” Lady Opal said with a chill to her tone that could have frozen a man’s ballocks in a heartbeat.
Graham bowed his head. “My lady. I was passing through the park and saw Lady Adelaide standing by the path. I wanted to say hello.”
“And so you have,” Lady Opal said, her eyes narrowing even further.
Graham shifted, for the sendoff she was giving was perfectly clear. He wasn’t accustomed to such a thing. Chaperones always liked dukes. There was hardly a better thing for their charges to land.
But Lady Opal looked heated and Adelaide looked slightly sick as she stared at him, her gaze telling him without words that if he left it would make it easier on her.
So he bowed again. “Well, I should be off and leave you two to your walk. I hope I shall have the pleasure of your company again, ladies.”
“Goodbye, Gr—Your Grace,” Adelaide said softly. Her aunt merely sniffed and Graham remounted and urged his horse onward down the path. But he couldn’t help a quick glance back toward Adelaide.
Nor could he ignore the fact that during the moments he’d stood with her, he hadn’t once thought of Lydia. And he wasn’t thinking of her now as he carried on, wondering at Lady Opal’s coldness and at the pleasure he took in spending even just a moment with her charge.
“What is your trouble today?”
Graham stared at the note written in Ewan’s even handwriting and tried to collect himself before he looked up into his friend’s face. They were sitting in Graham’s office together and he knew he wasn’t good company. His mind was too…wild. He couldn’t seem to rein it in from wandering to thoughts of soft skin, blonde hair, and a night that was unlike anything he’d ever encountered in his nearly three decades on this earth.
That was one trouble. The other was more complicated. Because he also couldn’t stop thinking of another woman, this one with a sharp wit and unexpected insight. One who could anddideasily set him down like he wasn’t a duke. Like he was just a man. And he liked it.
It had been two days since he’d seen either of them, but they both dominated his thoughts. His dreams. Sometimes they even merged together in a most troubling and erotic fashion.
He met Ewan’s eyes and saw nothing but calm and gentle and trustworthy friendship in them. He’d always been able to talk to him, even sometimes more than James and Simon. And it wasn’t just because his muteness kept him from interrupting. It was that Ewan truly listened.Heard.
“Do I have a trouble?” he asked. Ewan didn’t write anything but screwed up his face in an exasperated expression that said everything. Graham laughed despite himself and said, “Well, Imighthave a problem, I suppose.”
Ewan wrote,“Which is?”
“I-I…” He hesitated, for the moment he said the next words out loud, he was going to have to face them. Really face them. “I want two women.”
Ewan’s eyes bugged and he opened and shut his mouth a few times before he slowly took his pad back and wrote, “Well, I suppose I should be happy you want to get back into the world. Though you certainly don’t waste time. I guess you and Roseford could talk about that.”
Graham stiffened. “No, I don’t mean two women the way Roseford likes to have two women. Anyway, I thought Roseford was more interested in sharing a woman with a friend. His friend, not hers. Either way, that isn’t what I’m talking about.”
Ewan shrugged, and it was the indication that Graham should continue.
“I mean, I’m attracted to twodifferentwomen.” Now the words were out and he recognized how true they were.
Ewan scribbled, “I assume one is the actress?”
“Yes,” Graham said, running a hand through his hair. “Lydia Ford. Was I so obvious?”
Ewan nodded and Graham laughed again.
“Yes, I suppose I was that first night you and Tyndale took me to the theatre. But it’s gone beyond a mere distant attraction. I went to her again two nights ago.” He shook his head. “And I…I couldn’t resist her anymore. We…well, we did what you would expect we’d do.”
He could have given more details, but he chose not to. Ewan wasn’t the type to want to know about the women his friends bedded. Even if he were, Graham felt reluctant to share this time. What had happened with Lydia was powerful, special. If he talked about it to a friend, it felt like cheapening the night.
