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He watched her bite her lower lip, clearly weighing whether to call his bluff. The sight nearly undid him. She had no idea. No idea that it was not uncommon for men in his position to keep mistresses. No idea how long it had been since he had wanted a woman at all. No idea that if she lingered there another minute, with her virtue pressed against the wall and those impossibly innocent eyes fixed upon him, honour might finally lose its battle with desire.

He became painfully aware of the increasing tightness of his breeches, and with a muttered curse beneath his breath, he forced himself to step back first. He was not accustomed to surrendering ground, least of all to his own impulses. Distance was secondary. He needed to reclaim the ground his self-control had so dangerously yielded.

Gently and firmly, he turned her by the shoulders towards the door.

"Out."

Thank merciful heavens, she obliged him. But no sooner had the door to his now thoroughly invaded sanctuary closed than the unmistakable sound of light, skipping footsteps carried down the corridor, followed by a series of quiet, delighted giggles.

Arthur closed his eyes. What on earth had he done?

Chapter 18

She was floating because her husband wanted her. Not only had he said it, but she had seen it. Felt it.

For the first time in a fortnight, the unease that had taken root in her chest began to unravel. She had seen the burning behind his eyes, had watched the careful restraint he wore like armour begin to fracture before her.

The Duke of Buckingham was a man of remarkable control. Everything he did was deliberate. Every word measured. Every movement considered. He did not give pieces of himself away lightly. Yet today, he had come dangerously close to the edge of that control.

For her.

And perhaps most thrilling of all, she had been the one to push him there.

She had seen it in the tightening of his jaw. In the way his breathing had changed. In the roughness that crept into his voice when he called her wife. The way he had uttered it as if it had cost him something. The memory alone was enough to make a blush sweep across her face all over again.

The remainder of the day passed in a pleasant haze. She barely remembered her dancing lesson, and by the time Vinnie had finished dressing her for dinner, she could not have said with certainty how she had got there. In between, she had gone to the gardens for her weekly visit to John at the stables, though she was not permitted within five feet of a horse.

Her mind refused to leave the Duke's study, replaying the morning's encounter until every glance, every touch, and every word had become etched into her memory.

She could still recall the scent that clung to him, the warmth of his enormous hand cradling her cheek, and the darkness that had settled in his eyes before he had pinned her back against the bookshelves.

Though she had the distinct impression that most men of his ranking would have been grossly offended at her boldness, she did not regret questioning his experience. In fact, she was pleased, for she had uncovered another small piece of information about the man she had married. While his admission had stirred an unfamiliar feeling somewhere deep inside her, it had also confirmed something she had scarcely dared to hope. Her husband desired her.

Very little changed that evening. She did not see Arthur again until dinner. Halfway through the meal, Mr Ellis brought two letters into the dining room, one placed beside her and the other beside Arthur, each bearing the same deep blue wax seal.

Curiosity immediately got the better of her. She broke the seal before Laurence had even finished raising an amused eyebrow. As was always his way, he leaned shamelessly across the table, eager to discover the contents before she had managed to read them herself. There was very little she would not indulge where Laurence was concerned, so, smiling despite herself, she cleared her throat and began to read aloud.

Dear Duchess of Buckingham,

Please accept my most humble apologies for the delay in responding to your correspondence. I have assured His Grace that such a delay shall not occur again.

I have enclosed your sister's correspondence and am pleased to inform you that she has recently been promoted to lady's maid to the Countess of Danbury.

Yours sincerely,

Earl of Danbury.

An undignified squeal escaped her the moment she reached the signature, loud enough that Laurence physically flinched across the table.

Every letter she had previously sent had been returned unanswered.

Yet this one... Her eyes drifted instinctively towards Arthur, who continued eating with infuriating composure, as though nothing remarkable had occurred. Only then did she remember the envelope resting beside his plate, bearing the same seal and the same handwriting, and suddenly the words from her own letter echoed in her mind.

I have assured His Grace...

Understanding settled over her at once. Her husband was responsible for this. Without allowing herself a moment to think, she rose from her chair and crossed the dining room, stopping beside him exactly as she had earlier that day in the study, though this time there was no mischief in her countenance, only gratitude.

"Thank you."