Chapter 29

CHAPTER 29

A fter a few minutes, Christian rose and made his way to the edge of the room.

Louise watched, a little perplexed, until she noticed the basin of steaming hot water that had been placed beside the ewer. She lay still, admiring him for a few minutes as he placed a cloth in the water and wrung it out. He looked magnificent then, strong and muscular, the candlelight dancing beautifully across his golden back.

He turned around and walked back to the bed, a gentle smile playing on his lips. Louise was still catching her breath as he leaned over her with the cloth in one hand and gently wiped between her legs, the feel of it soothing and warm all at once.

After ensuring that she was clean, he saw to himself, and Louise could not help but watch his every movement. His smile grew as she watched him, and she knew he could feel her eyes on him.

It was a pleasant moment as they both came down from the lofty heights of their shared pleasure, but his attention confused her, nonetheless. She attempted to read his expression in the dim light of the room, but she was unable to discern what he was feeling.

He looks as though he truly cares for me. Is that just an illusion?

Christian withdrew shortly after and put the cloth back in the basin. Louise was desperate to know how things would develop from now on. She rose from the bed, making her decision as she did so.

If he wishes to treat me as his wife, I shall act as one.

She pulled back the covers, revealing the crisp white sheet beneath, and slid inside. He leaned against the bedpost, quite naked, raising his eyebrows at her as she pulled the covers over her body.

“If you think I am walking back to my room and dressing again, you are mistaken. I am sleeping here, beside my husband,” she stated, with more confidence than she felt.

Christian’s low chuckle calmed her nerves as he walked to the other side of the bed and blew out the candle. The room was dark, illuminated only by the fire and the moonlight streaming through the window.

Louise snuggled beneath the covers, the cold sheets cooling her heated body and making her sigh in contentment.

Who would have known that I would be sharing a bed with my husband so soon?

Christian lay down beside her, his warmth and tender embrace a balm to her soul. His hand slid around her, stroking her skin gently as he let out a soft sigh.

“Thank you,” she whispered into the darkness.

“No thanks are needed. I assure you, Duchess, the pleasure was entirely mine.”

She closed her eyes as they snuggled against one another and allowed sleep to take them.

The next morning, Louise woke up alone. She knew before she opened her eyes that the spot behind her was empty.

She kept her eyes closed for a little while, wishing that it was not the case until she could no longer avoid the inevitable.

I wish I could still feel his arms around me.

She opened her eyes to find an empty mattress beside her, but there was a note on his pillow, placed carefully beside the rose he had procured for her. She picked it up eagerly.

Duchess,

I have some business to attend to. I shall return later today. Sleep and rest as long as you need.

C.

Louise read the note several times. She wanted to find some hidden meaning in it, that perhaps their night together had meant as much to Christian as it had to her, but there was nothing.

With a sigh, she flung the covers off her body and grabbed her robe from the floor.

She went to the door, the rose held loosely between her fingers, and poked her head out, feeling like a naughty child who had strayed into the wrong room. She could hear the servants going about their chores, but she could also tell that it was still early from the light filtering through the window.

Christian must have left before dawn… I wonder if he slept at all.

She went to her room and rang the bell for her maid, and when she was up and dressed in a deep blue gown that she had been longing to wear, she headed downstairs to the library to begin her drawing of the Gallic rose.

When she passed Fenwick, she inquired about Jack’s whereabouts, and he informed her that Marcus had taken him to the parlor.

Not wishing to disturb them, Louise continued toward the library, more determined than ever to finish her book as soon as possible.

He may have respected my wishes last night, but if we are already lying together four days into our marriage, I cannot imagine lasting a full year.

She closed the door behind her and walked to the small writing table that she had been using to finish her drawings. The Gallic rose was wilting now, but she was pleased to see that the paint was a perfect match to the color of the petals.

She sat down and picked up her paintbrush, but her thoughts would not settle. A lingering sense of disappointment and fear would not leave her, and it seemed to be growing all the more since she had woken up alone. The realization irritated her.

I have no doubt Christian woke up this morning and had no trouble leaving our bed without a second thought.

She looked at the garden outside the window and sighed, wondering if there were any other plants or flowers that she had not yet drawn for her illustrations.

She tightened her grip on her paintbrush and resolved to at least finish painting the Gallic rose this morning while pushing the memory of where the rose had come from down to the deepest recesses of her mind.

About an hour later, a gentle knock sounded at the door, and expecting it to be Marcus, or perhaps Christian, she bid them enter.

The same maid with the lilting voice opened the door with a smile. “Lord and Lady Northbridge have arrived to see you, Your Grace,” she announced with a small curtsy.

Louise frowned.

I really must explain to my father that he cannot simply turn up unannounced whenever he pleases .

Smoothing her hands down her skirts and checking that she did not have paint all over her fingers, she made her way to the drawing room. As she approached, she could hear her father’s voice echoing through the corridors.

She entered the room, amused to see that she and her mother were wearing the same shade of blue that day. She smiled warmly as her mother rushed toward her and took her hands, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

Lady Northbridge drew back, examining Louise with a critical eye.

“You look very well, dearest,” she noted happily. “I believe marriage suits you.”

Louise swallowed, attempting to suppress the blush that threatened to bloom on her cheeks at her mother’s words.

“We heard that Lord Marcus had returned and came to wish him well,” her mother added.

At that moment, a quiet meow sounded in the corridor, and Marcus walked into the room.

“Ah, Lord Marcus,” Lord Northbridge greeted boisterously, coming forward and shaking the man’s hand rather aggressively. “We were pleased to hear that you had returned.”

Louise watched their exchange in surprise. Her father did not seem pleased. In fact, his expression was almost angry as the two men stared at one another. Marcus drew back his hand with a tight smile.

Christian’s suspicions are rubbing off on me, it would seem, but why is Father looking at Marcus like that?

“Thank you, My Lord,” Marcus returned as her mother stepped toward him and curtsied. “I am recovering, as you can see.”

“Well, we must all count our blessings for that,” her father muttered.

The kitten, held loosely in Marcus’s other hand, mewed again, and Lord Northbridge eyed it suspiciously.

“And who is this?” Lady Northbridge asked.

Marcus gently handed Jack to Louise, and she held him up for her mother to see. Lady Northbridge adored cats, and her face broke into a happy smile at the sight.

“This is Jack, Papa,” Louise said. “Jack Frost.”

Her father harrumphed irritably as the kitten mewed at him, and they all went to sit on the settees in the center of the room as a tray of tea was brought in.

Louise tried to get Jack to settle as he always did when Marcus held him, but the kitten was quite determined to return to its previous owner.

Marcus chuckled as Louise sighed exaggeratedly and handed the kitten back to him, where he padded up his thighs and lay down.

“It is as though he does not know I am the one who rescued him,” she muttered, a touch of hurt in her voice.

“Cats will do as they please, I think,” Lady Northbridge commented.

Marcus laughed at Louise’s hurt expression.

“He seems to like everyone else more than me,” she protested.

“I doubt that,” came a voice from the doorway.

Louise stiffened as Christian entered the room, having not anticipated his arrival and feeling strangely on edge in his presence.

However, when he came to sit beside her, the odd sensation faded into acute embarrassment as she remembered how they had spent the previous night. She stared at the carpet, wiling her blush away as her father and mother greeted him.

Christian’s sharp gaze was fixed on the Earl. “I rather hoped I would not see you again so soon, Lord Northbridge. Especially not without an invitation.”

Despite her father’s unpleasantness a few days ago, Louise found herself surprised by Christian’s stern words.

The Earl seemed just as taken aback, glaring at his wife as though it were her fault that Christian disliked him.

“I am only here, Your Grace, to speak with my daughter. Once that is done, I will happily remove myself from your sight.” He stood up, and all eyes in the room turned to him. “Louise, I need a moment of your time.”

With that, the Earl stalked to the doors that looked out over the small terrace outside the drawing room and opened one without asking for permission. He walked outside, leaving Louise in the uncomfortable position of either ignoring him—as she would much rather do—or following him like a servant.

She sighed and glanced at Christian, who was aiming a withering glare in the Earl’s direction, and then excused herself, going outside to see what her father could possibly need from her now.