He laughed. “Then I am a madman. Clearly, I am married to a madwoman. Who else would hurtle like some wild thing from the house to the place her husband swam half-naked?”
“If you must know, I thought Oliver had fallen in. Clearly, I was mistaken.” She gestured toward the Duke.
“You need not sound so disappointed. It is better that the boy is not by the lake; I do not know if he can swim.” Alaric swept a lock of hair from his face. “Besides, if being half-naked is as scandalous as you seem to believe, perhaps it is for the best. It will help keep people away from such dangerous waters.”
“You are being ridiculous. How you expect me to have a conversation with you like this is beyond me.” She threw up her hands in exasperation.
“Perhaps I am not looking for conversation.” His voice went dark, and Catherine’s brain went completely blank. Alaric’s mouth quirked into a smile as he took a slow, deliberate step toward her. “I think you are objecting far too loudly for it to be convincing.”
Catherine tried to roll her eyes, but she could not look away from Alaric’s. “You are delusional.”
The smell of amber and cedar mingled with the scent of the lake as Alaric moved even closer to her. She could feel the ground shift beneath her with each step he took.
“I think you are enjoying this.” The water must have been freezing, and yet somehow she could still feel the heat emanating from Alaric’s body. He leaned close to her, so close that water dripped from his skin onto her dress.
“I am not,” Catherine managed to breathe out, her voice hoarse.
She felt more than heard Alaric’s chuckle. “Then why are you trembling, Duchess?”
And then he walked away from her, his rich laughter echoing around them.
CHAPTER 8
“Discretion or speed, y our Graces. We cannot have both.” Mr. Wilkins wrung his hands.
Alaric nodded slowly. Mr. Wilkins, Catherine, and he were gathered in his study. It had been a few days since he and Catherine had shared their encounter by the lake.
The memory of her pink flushed cheeks and the scent of lavender as he had leaned close still sent a thrill through his body. Yet, to Alaric’s confusion, his wife had seemed determined to avoid him or at least, avoid being alone with him.
Is she scared of me?The thought made his heart squeeze. Surely if she were frightened of him, she would not yell at him so regularly? He glanced at her, but as usual, his wife had her eyes fixed on Mr. Wilkins.
“Then I suppose discretion will have to take precedence,” Catherine sighed. “That is, if h is Grace is still determined to prove that his son is not his.”
“I simply want to get to the truth of the matter.” Alaric massaged the scar on his forehead. “I do not believe he is my son, and I have seen no firm proof to convince me otherwise.”
“Nor have you seen anything to suggest he is not.”
“Exactly. We are stumbling around in the dark, and while that might be enjoyable in other circumstances, this is not one of them.” He saw the predictable flush spread across Catherine’s cheeks.
We are married, and yet she seems wholly innocent.
The more he knew of his wife, the more questions he had. Some part of his mind stirred, but whenever he tried to focus on it, the thing slipped away. Alaric pulled himself back to the present.
“Until we know more, we have no idea of the danger this might present.”
“Danger? He is a child!”
“Whoever sent that letter is not. Someone has gone to a lot of trouble to bring Oliver into our lives, and I mean to find out who and, more importantly, why. Mr. Wilkins, you know whoto contact. You will leave for London in the morning and begin work.”
“If that is what y our Grace feels is best, of course.” Mr. Wilkins inclined his head, but Alaric could see the stiffness of his butler’s shoulders.
“I know you do not wish to leave my side, and whilst I appreciate your loyalty, the Duchess and I need you in London.” He gave Mr. Wilkins a level look. “We need you to set things in motion. It will only be a fortnight or so, under the guise of other business, and then you will return.”
He thought he sensed Catherine’s eyes on him, but when he glanced her way, she was staring studiously at Mr. Wilkins.
Mr. Wilkins nodded. “Very well, y our Grace. It shall be done. Though… if I might speak plainly?”
“You may.” Alaric gestured for his butler to continue.
