Page 76 of Duke with a Deception
CHAPTER 14
Verity was naked and sated, head resting on King’s bare chest just above his steadily thudding heart. It was her favorite way to fall asleep, pressed against him, the heat and strength of her husband a reassuring comfort that soothed her in a way nothing else could. Recently, her nights had grown restless. Consumed by memories of the fire, or what she presumed were memories. Haunted by the feeling that she had lost someone close to her.
She often woke, drenched in sweat, crying out into the darkness of the night. But always, King was there to soothe her. He held her in his arms, stroked her back, and calmed her until the unwanted feelings abated. The last nightmare she suffered had been particularly terrifying, and although her body was tingling with the pleasant aftereffects of making love, she was hesitant to surrender to the uncertainty of slumber and the dreams it would bring her.
“Are you tired?” she asked him softly.
“Never too tired for you, my love.”
His deep voice rumbled over her, softer than velvet and laden with affection.
She kissed his chest. “Do you think we might talk, just for a bit? I know the hour is late, but I find myself reluctant to sleep. I don’t want to have another nightmare.”
He stroked her hair. “If I could slip into your dreams for you and slay all your dragons, I would. Just like the story you’ve been telling Emma.”
Verity smiled, surprised. “You’ve been listening?”
She visited the nursery early each evening to continue the tale she had created for Emma. King often joined them after he had finished attending to his correspondence unless he was otherwise engaged.
“I’ve begun to suspect that you are the dragon in the story, rescuing the little girl and spiriting her away to a magical world.”
She tilted her head back to look at him through the silvery moonlight. “Is it too fanciful and silly, do you think? I have been trying to find a way of easing her fears. The poor darling has borne such a burden at so tender an age.”
King swept his hand along her spine, gliding beneath the curtain of her unbound hair. “The story is nothing short of wonderful, angel. Just like you are. If only all children had a dragon like you to swoop into their lives and save them. The world would be a much better place.”
“I do what I can with the Children’s Foundling Hospital, though I frequently fear that it is woefully insufficient, especially given that it is taking so long to rebuild.”
She and Sybil had begun planning the ball to raise funds for the orphanage, withMaman’s help, of course. It gave Verity’s days a renewed sense of purpose, along with the time she spent with King and Emma. But still, it felt as if everything was unfolding with a torpidity that frustrated her.
“You do more than anyone I have ever met, my love,” he reassured her. “You never cease to astound me with yourselflessness. And the kindness and compassion you show to all the children, Emma included, is humbling.”
“Who could not be kind and compassionate to a child?”
The hand traveling up and down her spine momentarily stilled, and she felt his muscles tense beneath her. “Many people would not be.”
Not for the first time, Verity sensed more was boiling beneath the surface of their conversation. She wanted to know what it was. To know everything there was to learn about him.
“What were you like when you were a lad?” she asked.
“No different from any others, I suspect,” he said. “Although I didn’t have a sister to torment with arachnids, given that I was the only one of all my siblings to survive infancy.”
Her heart ached for him, at what he had missed. Although she and Everett were not currently in agreement on her choice of husband, they remained close. She couldn’t fathom having grown up without him as her champion.
“I am sorry your siblings didn’t live.”
“They were better off.”
His harsh words gave her pause. “What do you mean by that?”
“Precisely that. I mean that my childhood was not one I would wish upon anyone else.”
She shifted, moving so that she lay on her side, propping herself up with an elbow to see him better. “What happened to make you say so?”
He shuddered. “I do my utmost to keep that memory in the past where it belongs.”
She should let the subject rest, she knew, but she couldn’t. Her husband was a complex man, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that if she were to understand his past better, she might understand the man he had become.
“Will you tell me?” she asked softly. “Please? I want to know all there is to know about you, my love.”
