The Day of the Duchess (Scandal & Scoundrel #3)(108)

“Oh, absolutely. Why, just this morning I scandalized the House of Lords.”

“What a coincidence, I did, as well.”

She grinned. “You’d be shocked what divorce does to a fine, upstanding person.”

“I’m sure I would be,” he teased, loving the smile on her lips. “Why don’t you show me right now?”

“In due time. But first, I should tell you that I’ve been doing some reading since you left me.”

“You left me first,” he said.

“Yes, but you destroyed my tavern and then left me.”

“I had to convince eighty members of Parliament to side with a duchess in divorce proceedings. That is not the easiest of tasks. The number of chits that I’ve doled out is staggering.”

She laughed. “And we shall discuss all that at length later. But first, I wish to tell you what I’ve learned.”

As she remained in his arms, she could read the minutes of last season’s parliamentary session for all he cared. “Do, please.”

“I have been torturing myself by reading about the Pleiades.” And, like that, he was riveted. Her fingers played at his hair as she went on. “You see, Merope is the only one of the Seven Sisters who cannot be seen without a telescope. Did you know that?”

His heart began to pound. “I did.”

“Of course you did. And first, I should like very much to get a telescope and have a look at her.” He’d buy her a telescope that day. He’d build her a damn observatory. “They say she is hiding her face in shame because all her sisters married gods and she loved a mortal.”

He nodded. “Yes.”

“I think they’re wrong. I think she is turned away because she looks in the wrong direction for her happiness. I think she is searching the sky, waiting for it to find her. And . . .” She paused, the words catching. “. . . if only she turned around, she would see that Orion has been there, waiting to make her happy, all along.”

He nodded, the words thick in his throat. “He only wants her happiness.”

Her blue gaze found his. Held it. “And her love, I hope.”

“Christ, yes. Her love.”

Tears glistened in her eyes. “I should tell you that I am here for more than that.”

Anything. He’d give her anything.

She climbed off his lap and he mourned the movement, until she was standing before him, and he realized what she was wearing. His robes. How had he not noticed it before? And how was it that now that he had, he was certain he’d never seen anything so stunning in his life?

“I didn’t want to go home to find something to wear.”

“I recall you wearing a perfectly respectable gown earlier,” he said, tilting his head. What was she up to?

A shy little smile played over her lips as she fingered the fastening to the robes. “Yes, but I thought red would be more appropriate.”

And, like that, Mal was desperate for her, turning to face her, reaching for her, taking her by the waist and pulling her close, between his legs, and stealing her lips once more as he sought the opening of the robes. And then, growling, “I am reminded that I’m very angry that you told another woman about my love for red. You shall have to apologize for that, later.”

She gasped at the words. Or perhaps it was the feel of his hands, stroking over the velvet of her robes, pulling her to him. “I am sorry,” she whispered. Her hands came to his jaw and she tilted his face up to hers, kissing him. He took his reward, punctuating it with a long, slow slide over the soft velvet of his robes. “Does it help that I want to be the only woman who ever wears red for you again?”

His breath caught. “It does.”

“It’s true,” she said. “I want to be the only woman. Forever.”

The words roared in his ears. “Forever how?”

“Forever, as a partner. Forever, as equals.” She paused. “Forever, in love. Forever, married.”

He couldn’t stop himself. “Are you sure?”

“I am,” she said with a little laugh. “I was this morning, but then you divorced me before I could tell you so. But . . . it all works out well. If you’ll have me.”

He laughed, too, unable to stop himself. The idea that he might not have her was ludicrous. “I shall, I think.”

She smiled, there and gone before he could bask in the warmth of it. “You are certain? You won’t . . . we shan’t . . .” She took a deep breath and released it, and he heard the tears in the sound. “You shan’t have an heir.”

He put his hands to her face then. “I shall have you. I shall love you. And I shall grow old in your arms.”

She closed her eyes and a tear escaped. Mal chased it with his thumb. They kissed, slow and perfect, and he willed her to believe him. To understand that he was nothing without her, and she was everything he would ever desire.

She must have believed it, because when it was over, she backed away from him, fingers coming to the fastening of the red velvet robe. She loosened the tie, and the velvet pooled around her feet, stealing his breath.

She was naked beneath.

She was naked, and instantly in his arms.

He pulled her onto his lap, without hesitation, loving the way she straddled him, loving the feel of her skin and the sound of her sigh of pleasure. Loving her. “Lady Seraphina, you scandalize this place.”