“Where are you off to?” she blurted out before he could leave.
“That’s none of your concern, Camelia.”
He left, shutting the door loudly behind him.
Camelia sank back into the armchair, her book all but forgotten, her body still humming with the tension of this encounter.
“You look like you’re plotting a war, Raph,” David teased as he leaned back, his eyes glinting with mischief. “What’s got you so grim? Is married life not the bliss you expected?”
Raph’s jaw clenched, slightly irritated by David’s jibe. But the Marquess of Barrow was the only man he trusted like a brother, their bond forged through years of shared history and unwavering loyalty.
“If it has to do with my marriage, what would you propose, David?”
“Well, I suppose… I should advise you!”
Raph nearly choked on his drink. “Unmarried men should never dish out marital advice,” he retorted.
David laughed loudly, drawing attention to their table. “No need to scar me with your words, old friend!” He clapped Raph’s good shoulder with each bark of laughter.
Raph couldn’t help but grin.
“So how is she?”
“Who? Pamela or Camelia?”
“Well, I always care about Pamela,” David said, before pausing to take a sip of his brandy. “But tonight, I’m quite curious about my good friend’s rushed marriage to a mysterious woman who’s been absent from Society for some time. Raph, what’s the deal with your Duchess?”
Raph’s lips twitched as he swirled his brandy. “Camelia’s great, thanks,” he said simply.
David groaned dramatically. “I could never fathom howyougot married before me. I’m clearly more suitable for marriage.”
“Yes,clearly.”
They smirked at each other.
Raph’s thoughts drifted to Camelia and stayed there. The image of her soft curves was seared in his mind, and he longed to explore her body. She clouded his thoughts daily.
“Am I speaking to myself again?” David’s voice cut through his thoughts.
“What?”
David sighed. “I asked how your marriage is.”
“It’s… complicated.” Raph took a slow sip of brandy. “Camelia’s not what I expected.”
David’s grin returned. “Not what you expected? That’s rich. Marrying is like playing with fire, Raph. You cannot be surprised when everything starts burning to the ground. Has she truly got you tied in knots in such little time?”
Raph shot him a glare, though a reluctant smirk tugged at his lips. “Yes, I truly believe that she is more likely to tiemeup, the way things are going.”
An unbidden thought of Camelia being bound by ropes as he pleasured her filled his mind and caused his body to stiffen, but the slight ache in his shoulder brought him back to reality.
“She’s taken Pamela to the damned kitchen, David. Baking scones and stirring emotions we’ve spent years keeping locked away. She promised her a birthday party. The woman is changing everything at Brentmere!”
David laughed, a rich sound that drew a few glances again. “Scones? Good God, Raph. Your Duchess is staging a rebellion with flour and sugar. I like her already. But seriously, why the long face? Pamela’s talking, isn’t she? That’s progress.”
“Progress is only possible when one follows the rules.” Raph’s voice sharpened, his grip tightening on his glass. “Pamela told Camelia that I’m not her father. Said shefeelsit, David. I’ve built a fortress to protect her, and Camelia’s tearing it down quickly.”
Pamela’s pain cut deeper than any blade, and Camelia was pushing him to face it.
