Page 77 of A Necessary Wife

Lucy’s chin wobbled. “You said you didn’t want a wife. I heard you tell Grandpa, Aunt Fanny, Aunt Rebecca. Everyone.”

He winced. “I’ve said many things against marriage. Most are not true anymore.”

Lucy ran from the room with a wail before he could say another word.

Silence descended like a heavy curtain.

The maid he’d forgotten about stepped forward. “I’ll go after her, my lord.”

“Yes, please do,” he murmured.

Amelia hugged herself. “You cannot make her want me around.”

“I want you, and that is all that matters,” he told her, and was rewarded with a blush that made his heart skip a beat. He glanced at his son quickly. “Adam, could you help the maid, and bring your sister back?”

“Yes, Papa,” he cried, sprinting out the door.

He faced Amelia. “I’m sorry if what Lucy said hurt your feelings. I should have prepared her for another woman in her life. I should have been more guarded around her, and now…”

She shrugged. “Her mother meant so much to her. I understand.”

“Well, I won’t have it,” he muttered angrily. “I am the head of our household, and she ought to obey you without question.”

“The heart wants what the heart wants,” she replied softly. “I don’t want her to like me because she’s expected to. I want her to want to.”

His chest tightened. “The heart does have a mind of its own.”

He reached for her without thinking, brushing his thumb along her smooth cheek. Amelia closed her eyes at the touch, leaning ever so slightly into his palm.

Desire would be his undoing, yet he was powerless to resist wanting her.

He stepped closer. “You understand me, and the children, so easily. We don’t deserve your patience but I am grateful for it.”

Her lips parted. “I⁠—”

He kissed her.

It was not the ravenous hunger of the bedroom or the garden. It was slower, deeper, as though he meant to learn every nuance of her mouth all over again. She softened against him instantly, hands sliding up his chest, curling across his shoulders as though she had been waiting for this moment all along.

He deepened the kiss, savoring her warmth. Her breath caught, and he felt her tremble.

He lifted her easily, setting her on the table’s edge. Her skirts pooled around her thighs, and he stepped between them, kissing her again—hungry now, greedy, unable to restrain himself.

She arched into him, her gasp swallowed by his kiss. His hands spanned her waist, sliding upward to her ribs, higher still, until he reached the soft weight of her breasts. She moaned softly when his thumbs brushed the peaks through her bodice.

He loved her need, her eagerness, her trust. It terrified him how much it mattered.

He wanted to lay her back on that table and take her until she forgot her own name.

He wanted to lose himself entirely in her body.

But footsteps sounded in the corridor again, and they jumped away from each other, him chastened by his lack of control, her blushing.

Adam reappeared. “We can’t find her.”

“Did you check the servant’s stairwell? Sometimes she likes to look and listen to the servants.”

“I’ll go look again,” Adam said with a groan, and rushed off.