Page 48 of Two Blessings For His Duchess
Her gratitude only made the feeling in his chest heavier. He looked at the sincerity in her face and knew, with absolute certainty, that he could never give her what she truly desired. Love was a concept he was entirely closed off to. It was not a currency he possessed, nor was it something he had any intention of opening himself up to discover.
He could not deny that over the past few weeks, a certain attraction had taken root. He found her immensely appealing, and it was impossible to ignore her beauty when she sat this close to him. But that was merely a physical inclination, a natural response that he could easily control. Putting distance between them had been his way of snapping the thread before it could tighten. Working late into the night and avoiding her presence had successfully begun to dull that surface-level appeal, proving to him that space was the correct remedy.
But love? Love was an entirely different matter. It was a boundless, demanding force, and he was completely unequipped to offer it.
A grim realization settled into his thoughts as he watched her. A woman who explicitly sought affection and romance was bound to end up miserable with a man like him. They might be on better, more comfortable terms now, and they might even find a way to share a peaceful household, but he would always be the barrier between her and the life she actually wanted.
“So you truly want love? Do you not, Euphemia?” he asked, the words slipping out before he could check them.
She looked down at him, her eyes reflecting the flickering candle flame, and gave a simple nod. “Yes. If I am to be completely honest with myself, even though I have come to terms with the fact that I may never experience it the way I once envisioned, it would still be nice. It wouldn’t hurt to possess what so many others take for granted.”
Nathaniel felt the admission pierce straight through his defenses. A profound, aching regret settled in his chest, sharper than the physical pain in his limbs.
“I am sorry,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. He closed his eyes. He swallowed hard, forcing the words past his throat a second time. “I am so sorry, Euphemia.”
When he opened his eyes again, he felt the warmth of her palm settling against his cheek.
“No, please,” she said quickly. “Do not say that. I did not mean to burden you with my foolish girlish dreams, or make you feel as though you have done me any wrong. You haven’t, Nathaniel. You... saved me. You brought me into your home, and you gave me a family. Did you not hear what I said just now? I am incredibly grateful to you. You even spared me from the risk of a social scandal by offering me this marriage.”
She kept talking, her words rushing together in a desperate attempt to soothe the guilt she thought she had caused him.But as her lips moved, Nathaniel found himself tuning out the meaning of her sentences. His focus narrowed entirely to the way her eyes softened with care, and the faint parting of her lips. The physical appeal he had tried so hard to fight for weeks roared back to life with an undeniable intensity. He found himself wondering, with a sudden, dizzying hunger, exactly what those lips would taste like against his own.
Driven by an impulse he no longer had the clarity or the desire to fight, Nathaniel reached out. His fingers brushed the fabric of her sleeve before closing gently around her arm just near the elbow.
He pulled, slowly but with a small pressure, drawing her down toward him.
Euphemia trailed after his movement, her frantic reassurances dying in her throat as she realized what he was doing. She didn’t resist. She simply watched him, her breath hitching as the space between them vanished. Nathaniel lifted his other hand, his palm sliding up the soft skin of her throat to cup the back of her neck, his fingers tangling into the strands of her loose hair. He guided her the remaining inch, anchoring her to him, and pressed his lips to hers.
Nathaniel’s breath hitched as her lips parted beneath his, completely shattering whatever restraint he had left. He leaned into the contact, his tongue sliding past her teeth to meet hers in an intimate rhythm that made him feel lightheaded. The taste of her was faint and intoxicatingly sweet, cutting right through the edge of his fever.
It was a soft and tender exploration, a rush of warmth that vibrated through every single nerve in his body. In that breathless connection, the invisible tether that had been dragging him toward her ever since the night of the ball finally made perfect sense. The reality of her mouth against his was far greater, far more consuming than anything his imagination could have constructed during his weeks of isolation.
But the illness was a relentless thief. Before he could truly lose himself in the sensation, a wave of exhaustion crashed over his senses. His strength dissolved entirely, his hand slipping from the back of her neck to fall uselessly back onto the mattress. His eyelids fluttered closed, the taste of her still lingering on his tongue as the dark pulled him under, drifting him into a deep, uninterrupted sleep.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“Should you be down for lunch, Your Grace?” she asked curiously. “I was truly hoping you would take more time to rest today.”
The dining room was exceptionally quiet, the table feeling far too large. Euphemia set her fork down, her eyes lifting to the man sitting at the head of the table.
She had fully expected to partake in the midday meal with Cordelia and Georgianna just as she always did, but Nathaniel had utterly surprised them by appearing in the dining room to join them.
Nathaniel offered a faint, dismissive movement of his hand. “The fever was not serious, Euphemia. I am entirely up and running. A brief spell of illness is hardly enough to keep me confined to my bed when there are matters requiring my attention.”
Euphemia cleared her throat softly, shifting a piece of potato on her plate. “I see. But it might be good if you spent the rest of the day in your bed, Your Grace.”
“I would much prefer to eat in silence, Euphemia, if it pleases you,” he replied politely. “I still carry a lingering ache in my brow, and the quiet is a welcome remedy.”
“That is quite all right,” she murmured, mellowing instantly as she picked up her utensil again.
She subsided and continued eating, stealing glances at Georgianna and Cordelia who both remained fixated on their plate, eating. But the silence only made her mind race faster. Under the guise of her meal, she also kept stealing glances at Nathaniel, trying to read the unreadable expression in his eyes. Her thoughts inevitably drifted back to the late hours of the previous night, and a warmth rushed to her cheeks.
The memory of the kiss flooded her senses. It had been everything she had ever dreamed of, and far more. The moment his lips had parted against hers, she had felt a breathless surge of emotion that had nearly stopped her heart. He had been so hot with fever, yet the large hand cupping the back of her neck had been entirely real, anchoring her to him with such strength. It was a tender feeling that had left her completely undone in the dark.
In truth, she had worried all morning that she might wake up with the same fever after being so entirely close to him, but thankfully, she had been spared.
Now, looking at his demeanor across the table, the familiar urge to ask questions began to thrum beneath her skin. She wanted to know what the embrace meant. She wanted to know if he remembered the heat of it, or if he was going to pretend it was merely a delusion of his illness.
A dozen inquiries pressed against the back of her teeth. But as she watched him eat in silence, Euphemia made a vow to herself. She would grant him his peace for the duration of this meal. However, the very moment their plates were cleared, she would have that conversation with him.
