Thalia met her gaze, pressed her lips together, and nodded tersely.
“You’re right,” was all she said, and Evelyn realized that perhaps she had pushed too far, that Thalia was still in mourning for her father and had no wish to question his motives too deeply. The family had been through too much in the past few years.
“Thank you again,” Evelyn said, trying to ease the tension, and immediately, Thalia’s warmth and smile returned, as though she had momentarily lost herself.
“Of course,” Thalia said, as footsteps sounded in the hallway and Asher appeared in the doorway.
Evelyn’s breath caught at the sight of him, so tall and masculine, her body reacting to his very presence. What was it about him that made her respond in such a way?
His gaze drew over her, running down her body, and she gave a little shiver at the intensity of his stare — realizing from Thalia’s glances between them that she hadn’t missed the reaction from either of them.
“Ladies,” he finally said. “We should be leaving soon. The charity event starts in just a couple of hours.”
Evelyn hated that tiny flare of excitement in her chest – and not from the event, but from spending time in the company of her husband.
It was an excitement she was going to have to work on dampening — sooner rather than later.
It seemedthe more Asher tried to avoid his wife, the more he was reminded of just how much he actually liked her — whether he was witnessing her solving his mother, bonding with his sister, or finding a new rhythm in her life, the constriction in his chest at the happiness he felt at having her fit into his home surprised him.
At the charity event, he had practically been ignored as Evelyn and Thalia had chattered away as though they had known one another forever, and even his mother seemed happier than usual.
It was as though he had left for a few hours and returned to a house in which everything had shifted to a different reality.
Except for Evelyn. She was the same as always.
And more than likely the reason for the shift.
Now he was trying to sleep, but it was proving elusive due to the thoughts racing around his head.
That his bed, always empty, now felt cold.
He closed his eyes, but even then, all he could see was her hair, long and unbound, spread across his pillow. He wondered, not for the first time, what she looked like beneath her nightgown. Not that he had even seen her in her sleepwear.
He ought to have been relieved that she wasn’t trying to press anything between them—relieved not to feel that temptation.
Unless, of course, her restraint had nothing to do with propriety and everything to do with a lack of interest, which posed an entirely different problem. He could hear her now, walking around her bedroom, and he guessed that she was trying to solve a puzzle, although whether that puzzle was from some magazine or reality, he couldn’t say, nor did he know whether it made much difference to her.
He tossed and turned again and again, punching his pillow, trying to find comfort — until he finally decided it was useless. He needed to take a lesson from Evelyn and find something else to occupy his mind.
Estate accounts. That should put him to sleep if anything ever would.
He kicked his legs out of the blankets and set his feet on the floor, donning his wrapper to head downstairs to his cold office.
More emptiness awaited.
But that was the life he was relegated to.
Whether he wanted it or not.
Rustlingfrom Asher’s bedroom through the wall reminded Evelyn that she was not alone, as much as she felt like she was.
Even though that wall would likely always remain between them. For what kind of man wanted a woman who had no actual, useful skills?
She had a practical, intelligent mind, but nothing she was capable at could be of any help for a duke — at least, notthisduke, who seemed to have all of his estates and accounts well in hand.
No, she was married to a man who needed no advice, but only a duchess who had to be proficient in overseeing the home.
While she was one of the only ladies in England who had no interest in doing so.
