Loved by a Duke (The Heart of a Duke #4)(75)

He gritted his teeth. “Blast it, I’m trying to be romantic.” And now he’d gone and said blast it. “Bloody hell,” he muttered. And now he’d gone and said bloody hell.

Her lips parted on a moue of surprise.

“Now, if I may continue carrying you up the stairs?” He’d made it no further than three steps.

“No,” she shook her head against his chest. “No, you may not.”

Auric pressed his eyes closed a moment. “For the love of—”

“I’m too plump,” she blurted and then promptly fell silent. Daisy, who was never short of words, who prattled on when she was nervous, was of a sudden quiet. Ah, God. Is that how she saw herself? How could she not realize with her form and freckles she was more captivating than any of those damned statues created for the Greek goddess Athena herself? He caressed her cheek and turned her face up to his. “Daisy?”

She studiously avoided his eyes. “Yes, Auric?”

“You are perfect in every way.” And not for the first time, he wished he was capable of all the words she was deserving of. “You are—”

“Not blonde,” she cut in, tipping her chin up in a bold challenge.

He wrinkled his brow. What was she on about?

“I’m not blonde and I don’t have gold ringlets and I cannot stitch and I’m quite horrid at the pianoforte.”

Ahh. At last, it made sense. Lady Anne Stanhope. How could Daisy not see he wanted her and only her? Auric said nothing for a long while. Instead, he carried her up the remainder of the stairs and down the hall to their rooms. He paused beside his chamber doors and then moved on to her bedroom.

“You really needn’t say anything, you know,” she assured him as he shoved the door open and then pushed it closed with the heel of his boot. He carried her to the bed then let her go, falling onto the plush, feathered mattress. “Oomph.” Another brown curl fell over her eye.

Auric stood over her. “I have never desired another the way I’ve desired you.” And it was true. For his celibacy these many years, not once had he hungered for a woman the way he did Daisy. He claimed a spot beside her and brushed the recalcitrant strand behind her ear. “I never loved Lady Anne,” he said quietly. Nor did he care to discuss a woman who never could, nor ever would, rival Daisy in beauty and courage.

Daisy plucked at the silk coverlet with her fingers. She studied her own distracted movements as though she worked a masterpiece upon the pale blue fabric. “I must confess I am a rather nervous about you…” She colored. “Using some manner of instrument, as the manual mentioned.”

A wave of tenderness slammed into him. God, how he loved her. Auric drew her stiff form against him and then gently guided her upon the bed. He rolled onto his side and brushed his knuckles along the satiny soft skin of her cheek. She leaned into his touch like a kitten seeking warmth from its master. “We shall learn together, Daisy,” he said, in quiet hushed tones.

His words brought her lashes drifting open. She looked up at him, a thousand questions in her brown eyes. Auric dropped a kiss atop her brow, drawing in the hint of lavender water that clung to her, the scent intoxicating. Holding her gaze, he tugged off his cravat and then removed his waistcoat. Through his disrobing, in all her boldness, Daisy took in his every movement. Desire coursed through him. A hungering need to make her his, now. He leaned up and shrugged out of his jacket, and then tossed it aside. His shirt followed suit. With a slow breath, he lowered himself above her, effectively framing her between his arms. “I,” he cleared his throat. “I’ve been with but one other woman.” He braced for the shock in her eyes.

Instead, she tipped her head at an endearing angle and looked at him. A smile quivered on her lips. She opened her mouth to speak and then her contented grin dipped. “Did you love her?” Her question emerged on a hesitant whisper.

Her words had the same effect as though he’d been doused in a bucket of freezing water from the Thames. The innocent question, the most likely supposition from his wife. He rolled onto his back and stared up at the mural of a bucolic country setting painted in pale blues, greens, and pinks at the center of the ceiling. Auric fixed on the patch of white. How could he speak to Daisy of any part of that night? A woman he’d paid coins to for the opportunity to lie in her arms and lose himself in the pleasures of her body. He flung an arm over his eyes. How very much that entire night had cost him…and so many others.

The sheets rustled as she moved closer to him. Her feather soft touch landed upon him. “Auric?” He stiffened at the gentleness of her touch, undeserving of that warming caress.

He lowered his arm to his side. “She was a light of love,” he said at last. A dull flush climbed from his chest, up his neck, and then his face. He scrubbed a hand over his eyes. Surely, they were the only wedded couple in the entire bloody kingdom to be speaking of lightskirts on their wedding night.

“I see.” But her tone and the manner in which she scrunched her mouth up contemplatively indicated she did not at all see.

Knowing he’d not squelch the remainder of her questions unless he was forthright, Auric said, “Daisy, I’ve known but one woman before you. If I’d known there would be you, and,” he motioned between them, “this. Us,” he corrected. “I would have never sought her out. But I cannot undo that night.” A swell of emotion lodged in his throat and he coughed in a bid to drive back the guilt and pain and instead focus on the rightness of him and Daisy. The mattress dipped as she came up on her knees beside him and then she slipped her hand into his. He stared at their interlocked fingers, her smaller, delicate palm against his larger one. So very different and yet perfectly paired. “All I know is that I love you and want you and I’d not spend the night speaking of other w—”