Page 101 of A Portrait of Love

“And look,” he said, leading her over to the south-facing bank of windows. “There are the stables. We shall be able to wave to one another while we sweat and slave over our respective labors.”

In an act of unprecedented joy, he grabbed her by the waist and spun her around, and around, and around. Until she was dizzy from the motions as well as joy.

“I want to take you right now—right here,” he whispered, his scandalous words and passionate urgency making her heart pound. “I will claim you in every room in our house. Would you like that, my beautiful lover?”

Honey shivered at his words and the erotic images they evoked.

“Would you?” he growled, lowering his mouth over her neck and making her squeal.

“Yes! Yes, I would,” she laughed.

When he stopped, he was panting, his eyes so full of warmth she could only stare. All this happiness for them? For their life? For her?

“We will be happy here, won’t we, Honey?” he asked, the question strangely somber, his gaze intense.

Honey nodded, swallowing convulsively but unable to banish the lump in her throat.

In that moment, she knew that he would come to love her—she could see it in the hope fairly beaming out of his remarkable blue eyes

She already loved him, and she would see her love returned. She knew it.

He lowered his mouth hungrily, kissing her the way he did when they were on the verge of ecstasy.

The sound of a clearing throat made them both jump, and Simon stepped in front of her, as if to protect her.

She was not surprised to see the Duke of Plimpton standing in the open doorway.

***

It was all Simon could do not to slam the door in his brother’s face. But he could tell by Wyndham’s cool, resolute stare that he would stay there until Simon listened to him.

“Hello Simon, Honoria.” The duke strode forward. “How was your journey?”

Honoria dropped a curtsey. “It was pleasant, Your Grace.”

Simon smiled at the ice in his wife’s voice. Good, she would not be intimidated by his brother.

“My wife would like to go to her room and freshen up after the long journey, Wyndham. I will meet you in the library.”

His brother hesitated, irritation flaring briefly at being dismissed, but he nodded and left the room without another word.

Simon turned to Honey. “I wanted to show you your chambers, myself,” he said, forcing an air of lightness into his voice he was far from feeling. He took her hand and led her back to the family wing.

He leaned in close as he opened the door to her suite of rooms. “I plan to spend a lot of time with you in here,” he murmured, enjoying her shiver.

She oohed and ahhed her way through the tour, but Simon could see her heart wasn’t in it. Everything had changed the moment Wyndham had appeared. His brother would not have hastened over here to impart good news.

Simon turned to her after showing her the large copper tub and water heating tank, setting his hands on her shoulders. “I want you to take a long, hot bath and pay attention to all the details so you can tell me about it later.” She blushed, which he loved, and he kissed her hard. “I shall see you at dinner. Just the two of us,” he promised when he saw the question in her eyes.

Yes, just the two of them, he thought as he went storming down the stairs.

Wyndham was looking out the picture window, his hands clasped behind his back, which was ramrod straight, just like Simon’s own—thanks to their father.

His brother would have made a good soldier, far better than Simon, who’d never really relished the discipline.

No, you only enjoyed the mayhem, killing, and carnage.

He ignored the cold, critical voice; dealing with Wyndham would be enough without dealing with his interfering conscience.