Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 82982 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82982 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
But it was the way her small glove-covered hand fisted the fabric of the chair she stood beside, the distress she tried to conceal, that brought me under control. I smiled at her as I approached. “Are you well, Madeleine?”
“Of course, my lord.”
I shook my head in mild rebuke. “I am Alexander to you.”
She colored prettily, the rose color blooming under her skin emphasizing her delicate features. I dropped my gaze to her hands, wondering once again about the gloves. I had never seen them off—even at dinner. She had offered an excuse about painful joints and requiring them on at all times, but I already knew her well enough to know she was lying. I wanted to know the truth, but I also knew she had to trust me in order to get her to be honest. I could demand her to remove them, but I feared pushing her away. I wanted her to know she was safe to tell me anything, and I needed to be patient in order for that trust to build.
“Alexander,” she repeated.
“I like how that sounds when you say it,” I murmured.
Her smile was that of the sun on a summer’s day. Bright and warm. It brought forth unfamiliar feelings. The urge to be close. To touch her. Protect her from anything unpleasant and frightful. I had never known such intense emotions. The need to protect, to cherish.
To love, perhaps?
The past days spent with Beckett and his viscountess had shown more of her sweet personality. I found myself drawn to her over and again. Wanting to be close. To hear her laughter. Watch her discover something new and revel in the knowledge I had given that to her. I found her in the library on more than one occasion, peering at the shelves, a small pile of books set to one side, or curled into the large chair in the corner, reading, lost to a world I could not enter. I enjoyed watching her, often doing so quietly as not to disturb. Her expressions fascinated me. Happiness, confusion, sadness, excitement, all showed plainly on her countenance as she read the words in front of her, her lips silently forming the sentences and scenes the books painted for her. My chest warmed at the thought I could bring her joy.
The same joy she had unknowingly given to me by simply observing her.
She shifted on her feet, bringing me back to the present. “Sit, my wife,” I urged her, the words sounding pleasant on my tongue. “You must be tired from today.”
She did as I asked, a small frown on her face. “As you must be too, my—ah, husband.”
I beamed at her, liking how it sounded to be called her husband.
“Perhaps a sherry?” I questioned. “I prefer a brandy, but that might be too much for you.”
“I have never had either,” she confessed.
I headed to my chamber, then returned to her and handed her a small glass. “Sip it slowly,” I instructed. “It is sweet, and I think you will like it.”
She sipped it, and I watched as a pleased smile pulled at her lips. “It is delicious.”
I swirled my brandy glass in my hand, warming it, then taking an appreciative mouthful, the decadent liquor flowing down my throat. Madeleine observed me, looking curious. I offered her the glass. “Try it, but only a small taste. It is very strong.”
She accepted the glass and sniffed it, then tilted it back, barely wetting her lips. I discerned a small grimace on her face as she handed me back the glass. “I believe I will keep the sherry,” she informed me with a small cough.
I chuckled at her politeness. “Excellent choice.”
As we sat in silence, I shifted, trying to get comfortable. The chair was smaller than those in my chambers and more delicate in form. The fire in Madeleine’s room was banked low, the servants no doubt thinking she would be joining me in my chambers, where the logs burned bright and warm. Madeleine studied me with concern.
“Are you unsettled, my lord?”
I nodded and stood. “The furniture here is made for someone much smaller than I. I would like to sit in my chamber if you would be agreeable.”
I saw the tremor that went through her body, the flare of fear that flickered in her eyes before she lowered them. “Of course. Whatever you desire.”
In an instant, I sank to my knees in front of her, setting aside our glasses and taking her hands in mine. “Look at me, Madeleine.”
She hesitated, another tremor shaking her body, then looked up, meeting my gaze.
“Do not fear me, my wife. I know you are innocent and worried of what comes next in our marriage. But this evening is not what you are frightened it will be.”
“My lord?” she whispered.
I drew a finger down her cheek, the softness of her skin pleasing. “I wish for you to be comfortable with me. For us to know each other more before we begin our, ah, relations.”