“We have no music,” she said softly.
“I can fix that,” he said with a grin, before he opened his mouth and started singing.
She started, likely in surprise, for he didn’t sing often, but he always enjoyed it and knew his voice was pleasant enough not to cause anyone to cringe.
He twirled her around the room, their eyes locked, their hands warm against one another. She felt right in his arms, as if she fit there, and he slowly realized he was no longer thinking of her as a responsibility, but rather… an addition to his life.
They didn’t speak, but they didn’t have to — their dancing was saying all they needed to. That they were there for one another, supporting each other — and that, deep within, was a fire burning brightly that neither of them dared speak about aloud, yet didn’t have any hint of dimming anytime soon.
She was staring up at him, her lips parted, and Asher knew that if he wanted to take her to bed, now was the time.
But how could he, without a promise of more?
“We should retire,” he said, releasing her abruptly, shock and pain evident in her eyes as he did. He hated hurting her, but it would be all the worse to make her promises he couldn’t fulfill.
“Yes,” she said, swallowing hard and averting her eyes. “We should.”
Yet she made no move to leave.
“Goodnight,” he said, before practically bolting abruptly from the room, leaving her there with their cups of milk and the simmering of their desire between them.
He should have walked her to her room at the very least, but he couldn’t, for if he did, there would be no chance of his leaving.
He gripped the doorframe of his bedroom in frustration, berating himself for his weakness. He couldn’t keep himself away from her, yet every time they came close, he knew that he was only making this more complicated.
It was disconcerting, to say the least.
And he had to solve the problem one way or another, because he was going to stay married to her forever — it was just a matter of whether they would truly be together or not. That was another conversation entirely.
He lay awake for a long time, fists clenched, resisting the urge to return to her, for he knew that if he did, he would never manage to keep his distance.
Sleep proved elusive, while the fire still smoldered in the hearth and the candle burned low, taunting him, reminding him that he could fight it all he’d like, there was little chance that flame would burn out anytime soon.
16
Evelyn went back and forth between not being able to look at her husband and unable to take her eyes off of him. Last night had felt so comfortable. Intimate. Like they were no longer strangers, but… partners, if nothing else.
Although so much inside of her had ached to kiss him again, especially when she remembered just how his lips had felt on hers.
But she had no wish to be rejected, and he had made it quite clear how he felt about her role in his life.
The following morning, when she had appeared at the breakfast table, he was no longer the man who had made her warm milk in the kitchen last night, but, rather, had returned to his ducal role.
“I would like to pay a visit to the Marquess of Eastclere today,” he had said, surprising her. “The more I consider it, the more convinced I am that someone in his household played a role in this.”
“Perhaps you should abandon this quest,” Thalia had said, speaking up from the other side of the table. “I fear you are becoming somewhat obsessed with it.”
“I am tired of waiting for another misfortune or an additional rumor to start,” he had said. “Best to face it head on.”
And so, after a visit to the British Institution as requested by Evelyn, the two of them were now returning to Eastclere House.
The early afternoon light filtered in through the window of the carriage, highlighting Asher’s perfect cheekbones, accentuating his attractiveness to the point that Evelyn had to look away.
He was distracted during the carriage ride, and when they finally arrived at the house, all he said to her as they ascended the stairs was, “I will do the talking.”
“Then why even bring me?” she asked, stopping just short of rolling her eyes.
“Because you pick up on things that others do not,” he said.
