Page 69 of Raising the Duke’s Unexpected Twins

“I understand,” she said, trying not to show her disappointment or the way that frustrating and useless tears were forming in her throat.

“Please tell the children. I will try to check in on them when I can.”

He pulled on his shirt, and as he buttoned it up, Cordelia felt like whatever had happened between them was now gone. In the light of day, their exposure was now feeling wrong, and she could tell that he regretted it.

He is ashamed of what he’s done, and I feel embarrassed that I showed my eagerness to be with him.

Even if she could feel her disappointment threatening to crush her, she would not let it show. She was strong, and she would show him her strength.

“Of course. I will let them know.”

He nodded at her as he pulled on his jacket and then his boots. When he rose again, he nodded at her, looking almost as if he was going to lean forward and kiss her.

“Have a good day, Cordelia. I –” He paused, rubbing at the back of his neck.

He is struggling to know what to say. To know how to leave me.

“I will see you later. When I can.”

She nodded back at him. “See you later, Nicholas. Safe travels in the rain.”

He nodded again, as if that was some sort of greeting, and then after another awkward hesitation, he was gone. Once she was sure he was not within earshot, Cordelia pressed her hands to her face and burst into tears.

CHAPTER 23

“Ah, you look in a mood. And wet,” Leonard said from an armchair in one of the private sitting rooms at the club. “Have a drink?”

“Gladly.”

He was nearly soaked to the bone, but he hardly noticed. He waved down one of the young women, and she smiled at him, moving away to go get his usual drink. It was not yet eleven in the morning, and yet he didn’t care. Nicholas’s fingers tapped on the armchair, and he felt like he wanted to run a mile or drink himself into a stupor or throw himself off the London Bridge. There were too many thoughts, too many sensations

“A penny for your thoughts?” Leonard asked, lifting his glass to his lips and lifting a brow.

Leonard looked perfectly at ease with a drink in hand and feet up by the fire. Nicholas almost envied him. His own childhood had been a mess, but his adult life had been something he was proud of. He bedded attractive women, owned a successful business, and lived life on his own terms. Besides David and Leonard, no one was too close to him or wished to pry into his inner thoughts. He had had no desire to marry or bear children or have people depend upon him. There had never been any reason to get truly close to anyone.

And now, Cordelia. Now, the children.

As had become his habit, he’d stood outside of their door that morning before he’d left, opening it softly to peer in and see their sleeping forms in the dark shadows of the room. The curtains were still drawn. He’d been tempted to step inside, to kneel down at their beds and let them know they were safe and that they would never be left on their own, but that resistance to closeness was too strong now. It could not be shaken.

So, instead, he’d left and took his horse instead of his carriage, riding hard in the rain in Hyde Park for an hour or two, until he could breathe more steadily again. Then, he’d gone to his club, hoping to drown himself in work and maybe find his old life again.

“Not sure you have the money,” he teased, grateful when Sara brought his drink.

“Thank you, Sara. Bless you.”

“You’re welcome, Your Grace.”

She smiled and flitted off, and Leonard again posed the question. “So, what’s gotten you into a mood today? You’re drinking early.”

“So are you.”

“But I am always drinking. The hour does not matter.” He chuckled and then continued. “Go on. I thought you were making yourself the family man, but now I see you here and wonder what could have happened to ruin your domestic peace? How are those three cherubs?”

Nicholas took a long sip and stared at his cousin. After all these years together, he had kept his cousin at a sort of distance. David was always the better friend, the better listener, but Leonard was family.

He changed the subject. “I suppose you’ll think me rude for never having invited you to a family dinner since I’ve been wed?”

Leonard shrugged and brushed imaginary lint from his shoulder. His dark eyes remained steady. “It is not often that men want my presence at their dinner tables, especially not when their wives are so young and delectable.”