November 18, 1820
Woodbury, England
To the casual observer, Lady Bridget Abernathy appeared composed and at leisure. She was reclining on a chaise, partially on her side, book in hand. But if one peered closer, they would note that she was also chewing her lip, had been on the same page for hours, and that every time a carriage slowed outside the window, she would poke up her head like a curious cat.
The weather outside the library window was dismal and gray, and the light smattering of snow on the ground had turned into sludge. It was a far cry from the winter she was sure they were experiencing at Woodbury. Before she had left, she had enjoyed the gentle snowfall that covered the green rolling hills and had stared out the frosted window at the placid, half-frozen lake as her lady’s maid had pulled at the laces of her corset. Bridget knew from experience that while the surface of the lake was ice, somehow the water was still warm and colorful fish still darted under the surface. She had walked its perimeter several times, enjoying the burn in her legs, the pull of her lungs, the puffs of her breath fogging the air as she trudged through the snow. She was always breathless by the time she circled the lake and would rest her hands on her hips until her wits were about her. She’d seen the red, blue, and green scales of the fish frantically swimming beneath the smooth ice.
Rather as she felt now.
Had her mother ever felt like this while waiting for her father to return? She wished her mother were here so she could seek her guidance and advice. Alice had the most stories of their mother, and they never involved their mother being angry or upset at her father’s absences, but perhaps, much like Bridget now, she’d been a calm, frozen lake with activity churning beneath. The same way she’d been before she’d slipped away and died.
When she’d been younger and more maudlin, she’d imagined what it was like for her mother to die. Whenever she’d heard the servants whispering about her condition, Mother would merely closed her eyes and slump, the life draining from her body.
She’d been so at peace, they had claimed. But Bridget hadn’t understood then how one’s expression could be as false and deceiving as a player’s mask. Now she knew it all too well.
“His Grace has arrived,” her lady’s maid said, well aware of Bridget’s moods and anxiety. She laid her head back down, trying to ignore the beating of her heart, and waited for Benjamin’s arrival. She heard his boots echoing off the doorway. She expected them to retreat up the stairs or to his study, but they came straight to the library.
He filled the doorway, and her heart thrummed to remember her wedding night, how very firm and strong he had felt in contrast to her own soft flesh. Her mouth went dry at the memories.
“Wife,” he said. Only a single word was uttered, but his voice resonated through her. She sat up, using every ounce of willpower to affect a casual air.
“Husband. I trust your trip was well. How may I be of service?”
He narrowed his eyes. “May we dispense with this game?”
“What game?” she said. “This is our life, I believe. Is there something I can do for you?”
“Enough.” He crossed the room. “I could easily haul you to your feet and take you over my shoulder, but then it would be my choice, my way, wouldn’t it? So Bridget, dear wife, I give you this choice so it is your will and your way. I would like to have a reasonable discussion about what transpired between us, but first, I would like us to adjourn upstairs.”
“Upstairs?”
“To our bedroom.”
She blushed. “Now?”
“Right now,” he growled. “Assuming we can set this aside for a moment. If you please. I have …” His voice softened. “I have missed feeling close to you.”
She blinked, surprised by the admission, and reached for his hand. The gesture was small, but he reacted swiftly and with resolution, hoisting her in his arms and kissing her as he walked out of the library and up the stairs.
“Did you bring the journal?” she asked, tilting her chin as his lips trailed down her neck.
“No, but I brought my imagination.”
“Excellent.”
The next hour was a tangle of sheets and flurry of activity that left a sheen on her skin. By the time they were done, she was trying to catch her breath. This could not be how she allowed all their differences to be resolved. At least not forever.
They turned in bed to face each other. Her greedy eyes roamed over him.
His gaze darkened. “It will be difficult to continue a conversation with that distraction.”
“Then speak quickly,” she said.
He raised a surprised brow. “I must tell you I was not happy to find you gone. It made me angry.”
She felt herself bristling at his declaration.
“And it made me realize,” he rushed on, “that you must have felt the same way at the prospect of my leaving without your knowledge, input, and consent. I have erred in that I believed there was only one way for us to engage in our marriage. But you have been showing me … or rather, have shown me,” he amended, “that we are the heroes of our own stories, and we determine our own fates.”
Of all the things she’d imagined he would say, it had not been this, a perfect encapsulation of her feelings. A tear slipped down her cheek, and she leaned forward to kiss him. “I am sorry for running away. I had pictured us an old couple, polite and tired, the distance between us growing greater, and it frightened me.”
“It frightens me, too.”
“But so does the idea of you being able to manage me so easily like this,” she said.
“Easily?” He laughed. “What was easy about this?”
“You, walking in, and then … this.” She gestured to the bed.
His gaze widened, and he leaned in. “You could just as easily manage me,” he offered. With a swift move, he pulled her on top of him to show her exactly what he meant.
The carriage sped down the cobblestones, careening toward the gaming hell. Benjamin had instructed the driver to take liberties to make the ride more exciting, while still keeping them safe inside.
“Are you certain about this?” she asked him.
“Is this your attempt at delay?” Benjamin tipped her chin. She was dressed in the same boy’s clothes as before, the ones that swallowed her feminine figure and hid her soft hair beneath a cap.
“Of course not. I just … I can’t quite believe this is about to happen.”
Neither could he.
He had dressed his wife—his duchess—as a boy and was about to enter the very gaming hell from which he had sought to disbar her years before. He had every intention of sneaking her upstairs into one of the bedrooms so they could spy on the gaming floor below. There was every chance that Damon would be in attendance, and this time he would recognize her. Not that he would say anything if he did.
It was unheard of, though, and his father would have a fit were he still alive.
But this was not his father’s marriage. It was his.
Which meant he could break another of his father’s rules, too. That damnable unspoken rule where his father never admitted his feelings to another, as if it were a sign of weakness. A freeing laugh slipped through his lips. He could be the man he’d always wanted to be, the man that Bridge had unearthed beneath the rubble of war and expectations.
“I love you, Bridget.”
She turned away from the window, her eyes wide, and leaped into his lap, saying the same in return and kissing his face. As her embraces died down, he heard that familiar hitch in her breath.
“Are there any pictures of a carriage ride in the book?” she asked.
“No,” he said. “But I thought we agreed we were writing our own book.”
Who is Alice unsuitably in love with?
Find out in Kiss Me After.
Why was Graham nowhere to be found on Sera’s wedding day?
Find out in Kiss Me Darkly.
Why was Sera is such a hurry to leave for the continent after her birthday?
Find out in Kiss Me Softly.
Interested in the mysterious Gray Abernathy?
Meet him in A Dangerous Expectation.
The complete Kiss A Belle series is available to order now! While each book can be enjoyed as a standalone, you may want to read them all. Books 1–3 occur concurrently and can be read in any order; Books 4 and 5 follow respectively.
Kiss Me After
Kiss Me Darkly
Kiss Me Sweetly
Kiss Me Softly
Kiss Me Again
Characters you meet in Kiss A Belle are also featured in The Gentlemen Next Door. Don’t miss it, because sometimes a lady in need of love need look no further than next door. Each book can be enjoyed as a standalone, but if you love one, then you’ll probably love the entire series.
A Delightful Arrangement
An Illicit Engagement
A Dangerous Expectation
A Flirtatious Rendezvous