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would not have been here sitting on the floor with him.
He did not know how to do this. He did not know how to... How to be the right thing for people. And he was trying. Trying for Beatrice, because she deserved it. But the cost was losing Hugh’s friendship. He did not know how to protect his son, and make it feel like there was nothing wrong with him. He did not know what things to share of himself and what things to hold back. He did not understand how to make Briggs be a good father.
May I call you Philip?
No.
What sort of father would Philip have been? What if he turned around and started talking about orchids?
It was exhausting. This.
And he did not know the way around it.
* * *
Beatrice returned home; she was pale and large-eyed.
‘How was your visit with the physician?’ he asked.
‘He said that there is always risk in having a child. And he cannot guarantee any woman that she will survive.’
Briggs laughed. But there was no humour in it. ‘Quite a measured response.’
‘He does not see why I should be any more vulnerable than any other woman. We talked extensively about my issues. The malady in my lungs, and how it has not been as bad in recent years. He said he does sometimes see this. The children who survive a childhood such as mine, with lungs that close off, sometimes fare much better as adults. He said it is difficult to get a firm grasp on how many, because very often they do not survive childhood.’
‘I see.’
‘He thinks that we can have a baby.’
He very suddenly, very fiercely did not wish to share her.
‘Perhaps some day.’
‘That is all right,’ she said. ‘I do not need one now. But I would like for there to be no restraint between us. At least tonight.’
Desire was a beast inside him. He knew what she was asking. And tonight... Tonight he felt willing, more than willing, to take the risk. ‘Philip,’ she said. ‘I wish for you to take me to bed.’
It was still not yet dark, but he did not care. He picked her up, right there in the entry, and carried her up the stairs, in full view of all the servants, who undoubtedly knew exactly what he intended for his Duchess. He did not care. He simply did not care. For he was out of restraint. There was none left within him. And he wished to revel in that.
He had lost one of the most important people in his life for this. For her.
And he would make the decision again. Perhaps Kendal was right. And he simply had no control over his cock. But it felt like more. It felt deeper. ‘Strip for me, little one.’
And she did, with no hesitation. Removing her layers with a coy look in her eye.
She gloried in his gaze. And it made him feel like a god. She was a lady. Gently bred, cosseted too. And she would be brazen for him.
‘On your knees,’ he said.
She approached him, dropping to her knees in front of him, her eyes intent on his. This was nothing like the studied submission of a whore. But a gift. A gift to him that he was not certain he deserved. No. He was certain he did not.
Because she did not know about Serena. Not the whole truth of it.
He freed himself from his breeches, gripped the back of her head and guided her to him, roughly thrusting inside her mouth.
As ever, she gave in to him. With absolute freedom.
Seeming to revel in all that he was.
