“That’s because I’mnotbothered by it.” He shook his head, trying to keep his wits so they wouldn’t fall over into the bushes that lined the gravel path to the servants’ entrance.
“You might change your mind by the time we get to the house. It’s a fairly long walk.” He could feel her smile against his skin.
“I could carry you to your brother’s and not be bothered.”
She chuckled, soft and low. “I find myself doubting that.”
“And I find myself offended you would doubt me.”
Her fingers trailed across his chest, then up his neck and back into his hair. His vision blurred.
“You seem to be having some strain from my weight.”
“That isn’t from your weight, Duchess.”
When they made it to the back door, Robert bore Louisa’s weight with one arm as he turned the handle and slipped inside.
“Your Grace,” Mrs. Powell gasped as they walked past the kitchen.
“Mrs. Powell, alert the house that we are home safe and sound. That will be all that is required.”
She nodded wordlessly as he continued down the hall.
The darkness allowed him a moment to steal more kisses from his wife’s soft lips as he walked them toward his library with measured steps. He only incurred a small stumble just at the door as Louisa snatched his ear between her lips.
“Careful,” Louisa whispered, her breath tickling his skin. “We do not need you falling and dropping me.”
Robert caught her lips again, smiling against them. He used his foot to shut the door behind them, then continued to the chaise by the unlit fireplace.
He placed Louisa on her feet, gripping her hand and pulling her along with him as he backed up to the chaise. Her eyes were heavy as she stared at him, her face and form glowing in the moonlight with her lips slightly swollen. Goodness, she was stunning. He tugged her closer, and he ran his hands along her back before they toppled together onto the chaise, her weight on top of him maddening. He didn’t waste time, his fingers nimbly pulling the pins from her hair one by one and carelessly tossing them to the floor. He shook her hair out over her shoulders and buried his face in the loose, golden curls—breathing in the scent of roses, a faint lingering of the pub they had dined in, and fresh, crisp night air. He captured her mouth once more, sliding the soft strands of her hair through his fingers as his other hand gripped her waist.
The night began to blur, and it almost seemed as if they entered another realm of time. One in which it was only him and Louisa, and they couldn’t be bothered by something as meaningless as the ticking of minutes on a clock.
“Louisa,” he murmured amidst their kisses, one moment trailing his lips along her cheek and another relishing in the feel of her in his arms. Robert’s heart about burst as Louisa showed him her true feelings with actions if not words, running her hands along his arms and clasping his face between her hands—just as desperate as he was for more.
A voice whispered in the back of his mind.What will tomorrow bring?
He forced the voice back, kissing his wife with a little more desperation than before.
Chapter twenty-six
Louisa took a breath,trying to wake for the day, but her mind was muddled. She reached a hand out to pull the bed’s blanket up to her chin, but it could not find purchase. What was happening? She tried to turn, but two solid objects held her in place. And then one of the objects moved.
She froze.
Louisa’s eyes flew open to see Robert’s face in front of her, peaceful and relaxed as he dozed. She was tucked between the back of the chaise and his solid form. He had an arm draped over her side, cradling her to his chest. And then memories flooded back to her—flickers of images flashing through her mind. Robert kissing her in the carriage, carrying her to the house, bringing her to his library. And at the end of it all, spent from the long day, they had fallen asleep in each other’s arms.
Panic seized her, and she did her best to slip herself from Robert’s arms, but she had to crawl over his sleeping form to free herself, and in doing so, he began to stir again.
He rubbed his face, rolling over on the chaise until he faced outward. There were small creases on his cheek where the bunched leather had imprinted itself. And then his eyes opened, settling on her, their color as deep a blue as the seas on a stormy night. They lit up at the sight of her.
She felt her heart crack.
A warm smile spread across his sleep-etched face. He seemed so happy, so content, so pleased to see her and to remember and relive what had happened.
She felt guilt roil within her, twisting her stomach.
“Louisa,” he mumbled, pushing himself into the back of the sofa until there was an empty space in front of him. He patted it, beckoning her over, his eyes still heavy with sleep.
