Page 65 of Love, the Duke
CHAPTER19
MAN’S PRACTICAL GUIDE TO APPREHENDING A THIEF
SIR BENTLY ASHTON ULLINGSWICK
Hide in a conspicuous place so as to watch his every move.
Hurst knew when Ophelia had awakened, though neither of them made a sound. Maybe she thought he was still asleep and didn’t want to disturb him. She slowly and carefully turned to her other side and away from him. That was all right. The way the sheet pulled away from her body gave him a good view of her lovely back and softly rounded shoulders he hadn’t seen last night. She was beautifully shaped with the way the curve of her waist dipped in and the slight rise of her shapely hip.
How he felt about her was more than just realizing she filled something inside him that had felt empty most of his life, but no doubt that was a big part of his deep feelings for her. With her snuggled by his side last night, it was the best sleep he’d had in longer than he could remember. He’d found a peace that he didn’t even know he was looking for. As he stared at her, heat surged through his veins, inflaming his need to feel her beneath him once again.
She was the most invigorating lady he’d ever known, showing him something different about herself every timethey saw each other. He couldn’t wait to learn more and fall more deeply in love with her each day that passed.Love?Yes, that is what his feelings for her were. Abiding love.
Hurst had been awake since the sun came up and had found its way straight into his eyes through the tiniest of slits where the draperies hadn’t been tightly closed. He chalked it up to his good luck it happened. Had it not, he wouldn’t have had time to consider his feelings for Ophelia and look at her without her being aware.
He’d studied every detail of her lovely face before she’d turned away. The pale complexion and the shape of her nose. The whisper of her dark, thick eyelashes as they occasionally fluttered in sleep. Though they were closed, she had the most beautiful eyes, the nicest skin, and smelled so good he wanted her near all the time.
Her tranquil face in sleep had reflected everything he loved about her. Courage and determination that had no boundary. Spirit and loyalty with limitless desire. He was lucky fate had brought them together after he’d rejected her brother’s appeal to accept her as his wife.
Hurst couldn’t believe how sure he was that he loved Ophelia with his whole being. A smile came to his face. She had been worth the wait, worth every moment of aggravation she gave him, and there had been plenty of that. And he had no doubts it would continue throughout their lives together. When she was passionate about something, she gave it her all.
Without shyness or restraint, she’d been eager to participate when he was showing her the delights enjoyed between a man and woman, husband and wife. She made him feel good beyond reason. Even now, he could hardly keep his hands off her while he waited for her to come fully awake. He didn’t want to pounce on her the momentshe’d awakened, but the possibility of doing just that made him smile again.
To their delight, he intended to focus and enjoy loving her again before the day started. Once they were downstairs, he’d have to shift his focus to keeping his promise and helping her find the chalice.
Hurst had already sent a runner from Bow Street to see what he could find out in Wickenhamden. Runners knew how to question people without raising suspicion, but he wasn’t sure he could make Ophelia believe that so he would wait to see what, if anything, the man discovered before he mentioned it to her. He’d had drawings of the chalice made from his cousin’s aunt Maudine’s drawing of the cup. They were being shown to shopkeepers all over Town. Ophelia had thought that was futile, putting all her flowers in one basket—a titled man’s bookshelf. She was so fixed on that; she seemed to push aside other ideas that might help. He also had a couple of men scouring the rumor mill in London’s underworld to see if anyone had been trying to sell or buy religious objects recently. He intended to find that chalice even if he had to turn all of England upside down.
He didn’t move but asked her, “What are you thinking about while staring at the wall?”
“That it’s a very lovely wall,” she said with a hint of amusement in her tone.
Hurst grunted. “I don’t believe you.”
She turned toward him smiling, propping herself up on one arm and holding the sheet in front of her breasts with the other.
“I didn’t mean to wake you when I turned over.”
“You didn’t.” Hurst reached out and brushed her lush hair to her back and caressed her shoulder. “I’ve beenawake awhile. So, what were you thinking about while you were lying there so still?”
“That poets don’t do the marriage bed justice when they write their romantic verse.”
“Poets?” Hurst scoffed a laugh. “I could have told you that. I haven’t read much poetry, and none in recent years, but I would have to agree with you. They like to believe they inspire, entertain, or lull unsuspecting souls into the throes of despair or unrequited love, and then they preen about it.”
Her slightly arched brows furrowed easily, but beautifully, at his unhidden disdain. “Nevertheless, it is usually beautifully written. Most gentlemen do indulge in the art of the written word. Why don’t you read poetry?”
“That’s a long story best told by Fredericka. It has more to do with Wyatt than me or Rick, but we agree with his belief it’s not necessary to learn to recite it.”
“Did he do anything bad to a poet?”
“No. Wyatt is as honorable as men come. Only something he regretted not doing when he was a boy.”
“And what about you? Are there things you regretted not doing when you were a boy?”
Hurst could see that Ophelia was genuinely interested in wanting to know more about him. But there were some things he simply didn’t want her to know. “More things I regret doing for sure. Perhaps I should have been more understanding of my father’s plight. Maybe he wanted a better life for us and tried to change his ways.”
“That seems a kind way to look at a remembrance of your father.”
Her comment struck something deep inside him that he wasn’t ready to explore: forgiveness.
