“My feelings have no place in this marriage and we both know it.” She remained dry-eyed, but her voice shook with pent-up anger.
His fingertips brushed her jawline. “And yet you still respond to me—ardently.” His voice vibrated along her nerves and her heart pounded.
“Yes.” As mesmerized as a bird by a serpent, she raised herself on her tiptoes and touched the tiny cleft in his lower lip with her tongue.
Instantly Kieran gathered her close, a growl leaving his throat as he opened her mouth with his and kissed her deeply.
She shuddered at the contact. She should protest, but could not stop kissing him long enough to speak. When at last they paused, she could only close her eyes and mutter, “Why must you taste so good?”
At her words, he backed her against the side of a bookcase bordering the window. She gripped the tendrils at the back of his neck as his arms tightened around her. The edge of his teeth pulled gently at the skin at her jaw and her head tipped back to give him better access. Kieran wanted her too, and she reveled in the knowledge.
Their mouths gentled after a few moments and they broke the kiss. Diantha’s pulse raced as herested his forehead against hers. Beneath her hand, his chest rose and fell as he panted.
His breath warmed her ear. “I’m sorry. I didn’t come here to pick a quarrel with you.”
“Compared to my parents, this was barely a spat.” Try as she might, she could not keep the bitterness out of her voice. She gave him a wry smile. “And it did end rather well.”
He chuckled, but sobered the next instant. “I know we did not marry under auspicious circumstances.” He paused and cleared his throat. “But you should not think your happiness is immaterial. This will be your home now, and I hope you like it.”
Diantha could not seem to stay angry at the blasted man. “What I’ve seen of Duncarie is beautiful. I’ve never seen such wide stretches of land without buildings and roads. It’s almost frightening to see that much emptiness.” Her voice softened. “And yet it calls to me.”
Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her in front of him as they both stared out the window. “Aye, it does that.” He rubbed his cheek against her hair as she leaned into the warmth of his body. “We’ll ride the estate together, you and I, and you’ll find it’s anything but empty.”
She chuckled. “You’ll find that tedious, I fear. I can just about stay on a horse.”
He stepped away and looked down at her. “You don’t ride?” He gave a small laugh of surprise.
She shook her head. “One doesn’t, really, in New York or Newport. Or in France.”
He hugged her closer. “I’ll have our head groom give you lessons. He taught me when I was a weeladdie. We can find a suitable horse for you in the stables. You’re not afraid of them, are you?”
Her brow puckered. “No, but riding them is uncharted territory for me.”
He had the impudence to wink at her. “Well, we found out last night how much you like doing new things.”
A cough echoed in the high-ceilinged room. They broke apart to find a gray-haired man in a frock coat trying hard to repress a laugh as he watched them. Diantha wondered if she was doomed to spend the rest of her life in a state of acute embarrassment. At least this time a deep blush covered her husband’s face as well.
“Your mother was wondering where you were, my lad. I said I’d hunt you down.” His shoulders shook with a gust of laughter before he regained control of himself. “I shall go and tell her you were delayed.”
Crimson-cheeked, Kieran thanked the man. “We shall be along directly.” He turned to her. “My dear, this is Doctor Andrews, who treats my mother. Doctor, Lady Rossburn.”
She cleared her throat. “How do you do, Doctor. I am so terribly sorry you had to witness, er, us.”
The medical man bowed, lips quivering. “An excellent prognosis for a happy marriage, your ladyship.” He nodded to her husband. “I shall inform your mother that you shall be with her in a few minutes.” His chuckle hung in the air after he left them.
Having straightened their hair and adjusted their clothing, she and Kieran followed a hallway from the gallery to one outthrust wing of the house. She learned from him that the dowagerbaroness lived in a suite of rooms and almost never left them. “She suffers a great deal of pain from inflammation of the joints, as you’ll see.”
She touched his arm in sympathy, wishing she could do more to ease the sadness in his eyes. “I am so sorry.”
They entered a sitting room swathed with shadows. Heavy draperies permitted only a few chinks of light in, and thick rugs muffled the sound of their footsteps. Several paintings hung on the walls, most depicting the sky-filled landscapes of Dutch painters.
A white-haired woman lay propped up on a chaise longue, her legs covered by a blanket. Pain had etched lines around her mouth, but she welcomed them with her son’s smile. Next to the chaise, two empty chairs stood, angled so their occupants would face her.
She held out a misshapen hand to them. “Kier, my love! Can you forgive me for not coming downstairs yesterday?”
He stepped away from Diantha to cradle the gnarled fingers in his palms. “Of course I can, Mama. Aunt Iona told me you were having quite a difficult day.” He seated himself on one of the chairs. “And I hope you aren’t going to cause yourself more pain by seeing us today.”
The Dowager Lady Rossburn smiled at his half-teasing, half-serious tone. “And since when am I dictated to by my own son, pray tell?” She turned to Diantha. “Now, introduce me to my new daughter.”
