Chapter 20

CHAPTER 20

" H ave you seen His Grace this afternoon?" Arabella asked Mr. Rogers, flashing him a broad smile.

The butler, looking somewhat startled by her sunny demeanor, nodded. "His Grace is in his study, I believe."

Nodding, Arabella thanked him. Then, pausing, she cast a glance out the window. "It is a beautiful day, is it not?"

Still quite confused, Mr. Rogers nodded. "Indeed, Ma'am."

Continuing down the hall, Arabella stretched a little. She had been riding all morning, enjoying the sunshine, and had perhaps ridden a little too hard. She could feel the strain in her muscles that would make them quite sore come the morrow.

She had also, she realized with a grimace, managed to tear one of her petticoats dismounting. That would need stitching up before she could wear them again.

But neither that nor her soreness could dampen Arabella's mood. She was still flush with the exertion of the ride, and, she had come up with an idea.

Even now, she blushed at the boldness of it. But she was indeed emboldened. She had spent the morning thinking about the conversation she had had with Jasper two days ago. Though things had been strange between them the following day, he assured her that what he had said then still remained true. And she could not deny what he had done: the duke had opened up to her in a way he never had before. Both emotionally and physically.

And, if she was honest, Arabella was curious to know more. She needed answers. She wanted to test the limits of their newfound and expanded boundaries.

Before she could talk herself out of it, Arabella made her way to the study and knocked on the door.

"Enter."

Pushing her way inside, Arabella found Jasper seated at his desk. He did not raise his head at her approach – no doubt assuming that it was Mr. Rogers who had entered – so Arabella allowed herself a brief moment to appreciate the view.

He was terribly handsome. The duke was focused on something, his fine brow ever so slightly furrowed as his jaw seemed to clench and unclench in an unconscious response to what he read.

Then, best of all, as Jasper glanced up and spotted her there in the doorway, his determined expression melted away and a smile lit up his face. His gaze travelled her up and down and Arabella's heart skipped a beat. "To what do I owe the pleasure of such a delightful interruption?" he asked, a brow flicking upwards.

Arabella bit her lip. Now, forced to say it aloud, her courage was failing her. "I was hoping to steal you away for a moment. If you are not busy."

"Oh?" Again he watched her with a dangerous, playful look that made Arabella's skin tingle in expectation.

"I –" she hardly knew how to explain what she wanted him to do. What she wanted to do to him. The more she thought about it, the more embarrassed she got. Still, something within her pushed her forward. "Will you come with me?" she finally asked, a sudden shyness infecting her inflection.

At this, both of Jasper's eyebrows raised. Still, he seemed intrigued. Standing slowly, his gaze never leaving her face, he nodded. "Should I be worried?" he teased.

Quickly, Arabella shook her head. "No, no," she hurried to assure him.

Part of her wanted to hide behind her hands and hide away her embarrassment. But an even greater part of her was thrilled at this change in her husband. To watch him tease her – eyes shining with amusement – was thoroughly entrancing.

Chuckling, he gestured to the door. "Then lead on, Duchess."

Her heart racing, Arabella turned around. Overly aware of Jasper's presence behind her, she tried to keep from stumbling as she led the duke into the drawing room.

Glancing around, she decided on the next course of action.

"If you will have a seat," she offered, pulling a small chair away from the nearby table and setting it in the center of the room.

At this, Jasper let out a short huff of surprised amusement. "You intrigue me," he mused, doing as she asked and sinking into the offered seat.

Biting her lip, Arabella moved to close the door of the room, sealing them both in privacy.

This was it. After this point, there would be no going back. Her hand lingered on the door a moment longer as Arabella tried to pluck up the courage to go through with what she wanted to do.

Then, as she turned back to Jasper, she pulled a small, long piece of fabric from the waist of her skirt. Already blushing furiously, she presented it to her husband. "I – may I cover your eyes with this?"

There was something unreadable in Jasper's expression as he looked between the fabric and his wife. Arabella's palms tingled as he spoke. "You wish to blindfold me?" he mused, his voice low. "I must confess, Duchess, that I had not expected such a game from you." His lips parted, a smirk raising one corner of his mouth.

Arabella could hardly speak. Mortification mingled with a greedy heat that welled up in her belly. He was teasing her again, but they could both see now that what she was going to ask of him was not exactly chaste.

"What is it that you plan on doing to me?" he asked, his same devious amusement making it difficult for Arabella to think clearly.

"I – I wish to test something," she finally managed to say. "You have not yet reacted to my touch as you do with others. I wish to see if that continues and – well – what sort of sensations might aggravate your condition."

She hesitated. Then, softly, she added, "I do not wish to harm you with my touch. Even accidentally. If I can find the safe ways to touch you and avoid hurting you –"

Jasper cut her off as he leaned forward and gently took the blindfold from her, squeezing her hand tenderly as he did. Then, with a wink, he brough the fabric up to his eyes.

Wordlessly, Arabella moved behind him to secure the blindfold. Tying it off at the back of his head, she came to stand before him once more.

Patiently, Jasper waited. Indeed, Arabella felt far more nervous than he seemed to be, despite the fact that he was the one who risked being made to feel as if needles were being stuck through his skin.

But Arabella would be gentle. She would be sure to stop the moment something seemed amiss.

Tentatively, Arabella drew closer. Moving a little to the left, she placed a hand on Jasper's shoulder. The man shifted slightly in the barest whisper of a flinch – he was still conditioned, no doubt, to avoid contact at all costs. But when he made no move to pull away, Arabella held her hand there a moment more.

"Is that all right?" she murmured.

Jasper nodded.

Moving again, Arabella laid her palm flat against his back. She could feel the muscles contract beneath his shirt, sending a trickle of heat up her arm at the sensation. Jasper, too, seemed to react to her touch. His hand, resting against his thigh, contracted into a fist.

"Are you in pain?" Arabella asked cautiously.

"No."

There was no hint of discomfort in his voice. As Arabella slowly drew her hand across the flat of his back, Jasper head fell forward slightly, and Arabella felt him press back into her touch.

He was savoring the sensation, she realized. What must it feel like, she wondered, to be touched so after all these years? To have lived decades without a gentle caress?

Emboldened, circled around him once more, stopping in front of him for only a moment before she sank to her knees and took his hand in hers.

Jasper said nothing.

Turning his hand over, she gently traced a finger over his palm, marveling at the size of his hands – so large and capable in comparison with her small, delicate ones.

Jasper's sleeves were rolled up to just below his elbow – Arabella assumed he had done this while he worked, brushing up the sleeves so that he might lean over his desk without getting ink on the white fabric.

Impulsively, she brushed her fingers up along his wrist and exposed forearm. The touch of his skin made her fingertips burn. When she glanced up at Jasper, she could see the muscle in his jaw working, but she could not tell why.

Suddenly wanting to investigate, Arabella reached up and placed her hand on his cheek. Slowly, savoring the touch, she drew her fingers down his cheek and along his jawline. As she did, she could feel every muscle in his jaw tense.

"Stop."

Instantly, Arabella stood. "Are the symptoms back?" she asked fearfully, already moving to remove his blindfold.

But before she could, Jasper's hands were reaching for her. Finding her waist, he pulled her to him and, before Arabella knew what was happening, she was sitting in his lap.

With his blindfold still on, Jasper raised a hand, tenderly tracing out the lines of her face as if committing them to memory.

"Now it is my turn," he breathed, his voice raspy.

A wave of delight and reassurance washed over her. He had not been uncomfortable with her touch. He had not been reacting to her hands out of discomfort, tensing up as she investigated him. No, he had been fighting off a deeper feeling – something, if she was not mistaken, which was closely akin to what she was feeling. Love.

As his fingers found her lips, Arabella did not pull away. His forefinger brushed over the soft skin of her lips with an earnestness that put Arabella instantly at ease.

Jasper pulled her even closer then, Arabella pressing up against him as her breath caught in her throat.

"May I kiss you?"

Nothing he could have said in that moment could have been more perfect than those four simple words. With them, Jasper conveyed a host of unspoken values. Values that stirred Arabella's newfound affection for him to something even greater.

She leaned closer, bringing her face just inches from his. "You may," she breathed.

As her breath tickled his lips, Jasper grinned. Then, closing the distance between them, he kissed her.

This kiss was different to the ones they had shared before, however. There was a fervor to it that took Arabella by surprise. What surprised her even more, too, was her reaction to it.

She kissed him not only with a passion that met his, but with a hope that had begun to take root deep within her chest.

Clinging to him as if she were suddenly adrift at sea and he was the only thing keeping her above the water, Arabella kissed her husband. Jasper's arms brought her even closer to him, desperate for her touch without a hint of hesitance.

They kissed one another without restraint, finally understanding one another fully for the first time since their wedding.

When Jasper pulled back, his lips still mere inches from hers, it was her name that he murmured. "Arabella…"

The sound of it sent a shiver of delight down her spine. "Your Grace –"

Smiling, Jasper shook his head. "Jasper," he corrected gently. "You are my wife, after all. You must call me by my name."

Arabella shared his smile, pulling back just a little farther so that she might have a better glimpse of the strange, entrancing emotion dancing in his eyes. As her hope burgeoned, she dared to think that he was falling for her just as much as she was for him.

"Jasper," she tried cautiously, testing the taste of his name on her lips.

As her husband's smile widened, she tried again. "Jasper."

Arabella let out a squeak of astonishment as he instantly pulled her back to him, kissing him as if thanking her. She giggled, eagerly giving in as he sought to deepen their kiss. She could not help it. For the first time in many, many weeks, Arabella was filled with hope. She was flooded with it.

Here, finally, was the miracle she had hardly dared to look for. Her husband had let her into his life, opening up to her in more ways than one. Maybe, just maybe, her dreams could be recovered.

Maybe, just maybe, Arabella might finally have the family she had spent a lifetime dreaming of.