Page 56

Arthur's resolve threatened to desert him entirely.

"There is nothing in those books that I won’t teach you, should you wish to learn," he said quietly.

"That is not to say I do not appreciate the effort." A faint, disbelieving smile tugged at one corner of his mouth.

"I must confess, this is simultaneously the strangest and most sincere thing anyone has ever done for me."

Her lips curved.

"But it is not required," Arthur said.

He searched her face until she met his eyes once more.

"If you have questions..." His tone became gentler than he intended.

"You come to me."

A pause.

"That is an order," he added, trying to conjure some semblance of control over himself and the situation they were currently in. He had not moved from his position; he was still inches away from her face, watching her pupils dance. He watched her study him for a long moment, waiting for the slightest nod of dismissal. At the first sign of it, he would step back.

"But... you don't answer my questions."

Her fingers reached for his shirt, curling at his collar almost pleadingly.

"There is so much I wish to know." Her eyes searched his.

"About you. About…"

Then she glanced towards the fallen book before looking back at him.

"You scarcely answer me."

Arthur closed his eyes again. He had lost. Not the argument but the battle he had been fighting with himself since the day she arrived.

"I will answer your questions."

He opened his eyes again.

"From now on."

A beat passed.

Her forehead now rested beneath his chin, but he could tell she was smiling.

"But..." he murmured, lifting her head with the crook of his finger, just enough so she could meet his gaze. "You must answer mine as well."

She nodded, enthusiasm brightening her features, and from where he stood he could not help but notice the gentle rise and fall of her chest as her breathing quickened. God help him.

"Wife..." he rumbled, the single word sounding more like a warning than an endearment, but her grin only widened.

"Yes?" Eliza asked, still intoxicated by their closeness.

"I suggest you leave my office. Now."

She tilted her head, entirely unafraid.

"Unless," he continued, his voice dropping dangerously low, "you wish to discover what becomes of a woman who corners her husband in his own home, begging to know more about the intimacies of marriage. My restraint is hanging by a thread."