“We’ll take sweet Pamela and make a trip out of it, too,” Iris said with a small smile.
Camelia felt a heavy weight lift off her shoulders as her sisters’ voices and laughter echoed, and their shared meal came to an end.
Camelia gasped when she awoke from her dream. Her skin burned with the Duke’s touch. In her dream, he did not stop when she begged him to. He trailed kisses down her body until he reached her throbbing, wet core.
“Damn him!” she muttered.
Unable to sleep because even then he haunted her thoughts, Camelia slipped into the dimly lit corridor and entered Brentmere’s vast library, where the moonlight bathed the shelves of leather-bound books in dull silver.
She was wearing a simple nightgown and robe, and she felt the chill of the night air through the flimsy material. Her hair was loosely plaited, and tendrils fell onto her face as she sought solace in the quiet.
Perhaps a book will calm my mind.
But as she stepped into the library, her heart skipped a beat.
The Duke sat by the fireplace, a book in hand, his shirt unbuttoned to reveal a glimpse of his broad chest. On his left shoulder, she saw the edge of a faint scar.
Heavens, that scar… How did it happen?
She tried to back away, her feet silent on the rug, but the Duke’s voice stopped her. “Come in, Camelia. No need to skulk.”
She froze. “I am not skulking!”
He sighed. “I do not wish to argue with you tonight.”
Camelia raised an eyebrow and entered the library cautiously. “I thought the library would be empty.”
He set the book down, finally facing her, his dark eyes glinting in the firelight. “It’s your library too, Duchess. Though you choose odd hours to explore it.”
His gaze roamed over her, lingering on the thin fabric of her robe. She was aware that the material clung to every part of her body, and she suddenly felt self-conscious and clutched her robe tighter around her.
“I couldn’t sleep,” she said softly. “Too many… thoughts plague my mind.”
The Duke searched her eyes with curiosity as he leaned back in his chair. “What were you thinking of, little flower?” His voice was hoarse with lack of sleep, yet it still sent a shiver through her.
Of you. Of us. Of how your touch lingers in my dreams.
Camelia swallowed the truth, but her body had already reacted, and she covered her breasts when she felt her nipples harden.
“I have just been thinking about how much my life has changed.”
“Are you unhappy about it?”
She waited a beat. “No, I’m not unhappy. I’m just… lost.”
“You will find your way, Camelia.” His tone shifted.
“And what about you? Do dukes often read in their shirtsleeves at midnight?”
He smirked. “Dukes do as they please, Camelia. But you… you look like you’re plotting something. I hope it’s not another rebellion against my schedules?”
She laughed, settling into the chair opposite him. “Perhaps. Or maybe I’m just roaming the manor, trying to find the answers you refuse to give me.”
“Not this again,” the Duke groaned.
“All right then. If you don’t trust me with your deepest, darkest secrets, then why don’t we start small?”
“Go on.”
