Page 25 of Read To Me, Lyon

Oliver smiled as he stood by a window, watching Kitty, her sisters, and Julia walk in the garden. They were visiting for afternoon tea. Everyone seemed to be getting along so well.

Was this all too good to be true? Had he really been so lucky to be matched with someone who appeared perfect for him in every way? He wasn’t a man who believed in fate. Yet, Oliver studied his wife and wondered if he was a fool for not being more open-minded.

Even now, she seemed to sense his gaze and turned to smile up at him before continuing on with the other women. Was it his imagination that she put a little swing in her hips for his enjoyment? Perhaps. But there was no denying that his body, even right now, hungered for her. His eyes roamed over her fitted frock. He longed to undo the long row of buttons in the back of the bodice and let it fall to the floor, then unbind her thick chestnut hair and thread it through his fingers as it tumbled over her bare skin, hiding her perfect body from his view like a silken cloak…

Christ! What was he doing? His cock would be bulging through his trousers if he didn’t stop.

It wasn’t just that Oliver desired her. No, it was much more than that. Oliver truly enjoyed her company. He wanted to be in her presence, no matter what they were doing. Though, admittedly, he enjoyed it even more when she was naked.

And he was naked too…

“You really like her, don’t you?” his mother—who was also here for tea—asked. He hoped she didn’t notice his state of arousal when he turned to face her and found her seated in a wingback chair.

“I do,” he said, making his way across the room to join her in the sitting area of the drawing room.

She smiled at him, relief etched across her face. “I worried you would wed someone awful for you.”

He shook his head. “No, I think we suit well.”

Oliver had only found one thing strange since their marriage: Kitty never talked about her family’s business, and when he brought it up, she seemed to change the subject. He told himself repeatedly not to worry about it; they were still getting acquainted. Still, he couldn’t prevent the thought that Kitty was holding back a part of herself from him. It bothered him; his wife fascinated him, and he wanted to learn all facets of her.

“I wish I had a better understanding of her bookshop and printing press. I have no desire to overly involve myself, but it is a big part of who she is.”

His mother frowned. “I know our debt isn’t your mess, but she likely worries how involved you were with our financial decline.”

“You are probably correct.”

His mother assured, “Have hope.”

For the first time, anger welled in Oliver that his father had made such foolish choices, but he reminded himself, he wouldn’t have met Kitty without the debt. They were from different worlds. So many lords and ladies complained about those considered “New Money,” but it was apparent that the world of old and new wealth was colliding in London.

Perhaps he shouldn’t worry about it so much. He had much to do with righting the estate. As time went on, he suspected Kitty would gradually open up about the bookshop and printing press. He looked forward to learning more about it and her. Plus, they’d given themselves a month not to worry about how all their responsibilities would be managed. Eventually, she would also be burdened with marchioness duties. He was concerned she would hate it.

“I want her to be happy in our marriage and not overwhelmed by the duties that come with the title. When you return, will you assist her?”

“Of course,” his mother stated. “I’m happy to help, as is Julia.”

Hanson entered the room. “My lord, the Earl of Carrington is here. He says the matter is urgent.”

He and his mother glanced at each other, alarmed, before Oliver told the butler, “Please show him in.”

What could be the problem, he wondered. He hadn’t seen his friend since before his wedding to Kitty. Moments later, his friend walked into the room. He didn’t appear rushed, but his face was filled with worry.

“What is it?” Oliver demanded.

Carrington nodded to his mother. She motioned to the chair next to her and insisted, “Come sit.”

He joined them. “Winthrop is at his country estate. My butler received a message from his that he isn’t faring well. He has been drinking and refusing to leave his room for quite some time.”

Oliver’s heart clenched at the thought that their friend continued to struggle so much. Peter had returned from the Continent a different man, scarred and broken. He’d seen more fighting than he and Carrington had.

“I plan to ride out to his estate and stay a few days. I’m going to use the excuse that I have a venture in which he may be interested. It would be more believable and helpful if you joined me.”

The terrace doors opened, and Kitty and the other ladies entered. Kitty’s eyes widened at who, to her, was an unknown guest. She stumbled to a stop. “I’m sorry. Are we interrupting?”

Oliver shot to his feet. “Of course not. May I introduce a good friend of mine, the Earl of Carrington.”

Kitty said, “Hello, my lord,” and curtseyed prettily.