Page 39 of Yours Truly, the Duke
“Yes,” he answered on a ragged breath. “What do you think a gentleman of twenty-eight—”
“Please, please don’t say more.” Abruptly, reality closed in on her so fast her head spun. No wonder he didn’t want her upsetting his life. An uncomfortable knot rose in her throat, but she managed to say, “I understand completely and no further comment on this subject is necessary.”
What was she thinking? Of course he had a mistress. What wealthy young man wouldn’t? She had to think rationally about these things. This was the path she’d chosen for her life for the foreseeable future. Fredericka couldn’t blame Wyatt for anything she’d agreed to, and she couldn’t now start having uncertainties about her arrangement. They agreed to lead separate lives.
She wanted to keep the children and he wanted to keep his freedom. It was that simple.
By indomitable concentration, she kept her emotions in check and continued to look steadily into his eyes as if her will were made of stone. “I really don’t want to delve into your private life. Truly. That’s not why I came. I don’t know why I even mentioned Miss Fenway other than my curiosity and unfortunate tendency to overthink things.”
The cadence of Wyatt’s breathing altered as he calmed. Regret was strong in his features. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get so heated. The truth is I…”
He paused, not finishing his sentence. She was glad, feeling quite sure she didn’t want to hear any more of his harsh truths right now. But one thing was sure. Thisconversation settled that they were not going to pretend to live together as a happily married couple. She wasn’t welcomed in his life. Her shoulders tightened. Fine. She knew that from the beginning, but it was still hurtful. Years ago, her instinct was to run away and hide in her room when Angela and Jane made it clear they didn’t want her with them. Back then, she had no one depending on her. Now she had Elise, Charles, and Bella. They needed her. Fredericka loved them. What would she do without them in her life? She must stay and fight for them.
A calmness settled over her. “We agreed you could continue to live as you always have. I will gladly return to Paddleton, but only as soon asIcan be assured the children will be left inmycare as was the stipulation of our marriage. Hopefully you will have that settled by this afternoon.”
Wyatt took in a long breath that sounded heavy with derision. For her or himself, Fredericka wasn’t sure.
“I will handle this today. Getting you a new carriage and guards might take a day or two longer.”
“We can move to an inn.”
“You are my responsibility, Fredericka. I will take care of you. In the meantime, you and the children will stay here with me.”
Since he was going to talk to the Lord Chancellor today, she could stay the extra time it would take to get a new carriage for the children’s safety. But the day it was ready and she had guardianship of the children she would leave, even though, for some reason, the thought of it left a hollow, sinking feeling in her stomach.
“I don’t want to force myself on you.”
She stared at him, unable to look away from the sudden intensity of his sensual gaze.
Her ears started humming as Wyatt lifted her chin with the tips of his fingers and bent his head down and kissed her lips softly. Once. Twice. Three times before whispering, “Force me?” A gentle laugh fell from his mouth. “You would never have to do that, Fredericka.”
CHAPTER 11
POPPY-OBLIVION
—H. K. WHITE
Come, press my lips and lie with me
Beneath the lonely alder-tree,
And we will dream a pleasant sleep,
And not a care shall dare intrude
Upon the marble solitude
So peaceful and so deep.
Wyatt walked through the front door of his town house swinging his black cloak off his shoulders. He chunked it onto a chair with more force than necessary, plopped his hat on top of it with the same intensity, and started stripping the gloves from his fingers.
“I hope you had a good afternoon, Your Grace,” Burns said in a low voice, appearing from around the corner.
“I’ve had better,” Wyatt noted tiredly, without bothering to look up from his task. His head was throbbing intensely. Not so much from the brandy—he’d had little throughout the day—but from lack of sleep. He really should have taken a couple of hours to rest before he left the house after having been up all night, and now half of another, but he hadn’t been heavy-eyed after his talkwith Fredericka that morning. Being with her had invigorated him.
But that was before his well-planned day started falling apart. Now all he wanted was his bed.
“It’s unusual for you to be up at this hour,” Wyatt groused, throwing his gloves on top of his cloak and hat. “Why haven’t you retired?”
