She smiled, “It’s good to see you.”
“You too,” he said before ducking out of the room.
Returning to the story, Ariadne did her best to steady her voice and the thudding in her chest. Finding her place again, she asked, “Shall we continue?”
In his study, Cedric poured another glass of sherry as he shucked his cravat onto the couch before he sank into it and stretched his legs out near the fire.
He tried to temper the dull headache growing at the back of his head, right at the tip of his spine. Pressing the glass to his temple, he let out a long breath, grateful for the cold breeze fluttering his drapes.
He heard the soft squeak of the door but didn’t bother opening his eyes. “Is she asleep?”
“Soundly,” Ariadne replied. “How are you feeling?”
“Bloody fatigued,” he replied. “I am so glad this session is over. If I return to Westminster, I will burn the damn House down and dance on its ashes.”
Her soft giggles had him peeling an eye open. In the soft light, Ariadne looked like a mythical sprite. “I do not think they’ll appreciate that,” she said.
“Thank you for reading to Emily,” he said. “If I cannot do it, please take over.”
“Why, thank you,” she said dryly. “Do you think we can restart the breakfast meetings?”
“After two days’ worth of sleep,” he said while getting up. “Join me for a drink?”
Eyes brightening, she nodded, and he quickly poured two glasses of sherry before joining her in the chairs by the fire. Drink inhand, he sank against the cushions. “We can start again before I collapse in bed.”
“It has come to my attention that I must throw another ball.” He sighed. “I do not want to, but Silas is assuring me that to display all rumors and show a combined front against the naysayer.”
Her heart began to beat oddly. “When do you want to host this ball?”
“Not for the next two weeks, I hope,” he said. “I must let you know, I am trying to track down my squirrel of a brother so he can account for his crime.”
Her heart twisted, “You don’t need to do that.”
“Yes, I do.” He said firmly. “You’re not the only one he embarrassed that day.”
Ariadne opened her mouth to reiterate her position on leaving Leander alone— but the mulish look on Cedric’s face told her that no matter how much she would plead with him, he was not going to budge.
“Just…” she worried her bottom lip. “Don’t be too hard on him.”
He set his glass down and cocked his head to the left. His stare made her want to squirm in her chair. Finally, he shook his head, “You’re too kind for your own good. Leander does not get to run off into the sunset without the carriage derailing.”
She saw the exhaustion drawing on his face knew he was going to go off soon. “Tomorrow afternoon, Lady Hamden and I are going off to London.”
His brows lifted. “That’s good. Enjoy yourself.”
Ariadne asked, “Is there anything I can do for you?”
Rubbing his face, he asked, “I—I’d like it if you would stay with me. In my bed. Only for sleep. Nothing much.” His words were punctuated with staccato. He took in a deep breath. “If you want to, that is.”
Ariadne smiled. “I’d love to.”
Settling in, she rested close to him; she was assured that those notes were only mischief.
Chapter Twenty
As he stepped out of the washroom, his gaze landed on Ariadne as she undid her wrapper. To his surprise, she was not wearing that hideous nightgown but was clad only in her thin but more flattering chemise.
He had never seen a female form that mouth-wateringly voluptuous, or one he wanted more. Her hair was pinned up under a cap, and he greedily took in how the firm, rounded tops of her breasts seemed to quiver in nervousness.
