“Aye. You’re safe, I assure you.”
“Can…can I not have another room?”
“Is something wrong with this one?”
“It’s…too masculine.”
“Too masculine?”
“Yes.” Her tone dared him to disagree, since nothing could be farther from the truth. The red chamber was satin and velvet, feathers and lace—altogether too fussy for her tastes. It looked like a brothel. Or what she imagined a brothel might look like, in any case. “This was your father’s chamber, wasn’t it? I believe I’d be more comfortable in your mother’s chamber. Where is it?”
“In Scotland,” he said shortly, patting the mattress beside him. “Come, Kendra, enough of this. I’m sleepy, and you look ready to drop.”
With a sigh, she walked around the bed and gingerly lay on top of the covers.
Sounding exasperated, his voice drifted over his shoulder. “Get under the blanket. It’s drafty in this gargantuan house.”
Her toes were going rather numb. Giving in, she scooted beneath the coverlet. The feather bed was soft and comfortable. Lying flat on her back, she could feel the rise and fall of Trick’s breathing next to her, the warmth of his body even across the space that divided them.
When he rolled close and laid an arm loosely across her middle, she flinched.
“Shh, it’s all right. Rest.” He raised himself to kiss the tip of her nose, his lips soft and teasing. His amber eyes held hers, making her stomach flutter. Her arms itched to wrap themselves around his neck and draw him down for one of those heart-stopping kisses.
But she knew what that would lead to.
“Aye, leannan, you’re right,” he whispered, his eyes full of meaning.
Had he read her mind?
She felt his body pressing her into the mattress, and his mouth brushed hers. Despite her reservations, she couldn’t stop her pulse speeding up, or the tiny whimper that escaped her throat.
He smiled against her lips. “Aye, you’ll be begging soon enough,” he said, then turned away to blow out the candle.
Shaking—from vexation and embarrassment and an unwelcome sensation she could only call, well, lust—Kendra stared into the darkness and wondered if she’d ever get any sleep while she was married to Trick Caldwell.
FOURTEEN
“WAKE UP, milady. I mean, your grace.”
Kendra forced open her eyes to see Jane standing over her.
“I’ve brought you some breakfast, or should I say dinner?” The maid set a tray on the bed. “It’s late, and his grace is waiting to take you somewhere. A surprise, he said.”
“A surprise?” Struggling into a sitting position, Kendra reached for a cup of chocolate. “He said he had something to show me today, but—”
“A surprise, yes.” Jane’s tall, thin figure disappeared into the dressing room. “He suggested you wear your simplest gown.”
The sound of wardrobes opening and closing came through the open door. “Why would that be?” Kendra asked.
“Well, if you’re not knowing, then how could I?” The maid came in with a plain peach-velvet gown, unadorned but for a narrow lace edging around the neckline and spills of matching lace at the wrists. No overskirt, no jewels or embroidery on the stomacher. “Do you suppose this will do?”
Kendra swallowed a mouthful of bread and cheese. “I’m sure it’s fine,” she said without enthusiasm.
Jane ducked into the dressing room again, her chirpy voice drifting back out. “Brown shoes rather than gold, I’m thinking.”
Kendra took another bite and chewed, not thinking at all. Her brain was now fuzzy from too much sleep.
“And a chemise, and…lud, would you look at this lovely bracelet? Where’d this come from, milady? I mean, your grace?”
“Milady will more than do,” Kendra grumbled. “And leave the bracelet there.”
Jane appeared in the open doorway, her round face marred by a puzzled frown. Winking in the noon sun that streamed through the window, the amber bracelet dangled from her fingers. “Was this a gift from your husband?”
“A wedding gift, yes.”
“Then for certain he’d want you to wear it.”
Setting down the bread, Kendra caught a glimpse of the gold ringing her finger. Enough of a reminder that she was married to a lying duke. “I don’t care for it, Jane.”
Her maid’s mouth hung open. “But it’s so beautiful. And his grace is so handsome and kind—do you not want to please him?”
Of course Jane would think Trick was kind—he’d given her half a day off. And he hadn’t lied to her, either. “I really don’t care for it,” Kendra repeated. “Put it away for me, will you? I expect his grace will forget all about it—you know how men are.”
“Very well.” A doubtful look in her gray eyes, Jane disappeared back into the dressing room. She came out carrying the shoes and chemise and set them on the foot of the bed. “Are you happy here, milady?”
“Of course I’m happy.” Gesturing at the rich, garish chamber, Kendra forced a smile. “Look at this place. How could one not be happy here?”
FIFTEEN
“MR. CALDWELL!” A dozen children bounded down the steps of the sprawling Tudor manor house and clustered around Trick. Laughing, he reached to squeeze shoulders and pat heads, leaving no child unacknowledged.
Kendra stared in utter disbelief. “Mr. Caldwell?”
“Part of your surprise.” He shot her a sheepish grin before turning back to the young ones. They’d focused their attention on Kendra, gaping at her with frank curiosity. Trick waved a hand in her direction. “This is my new wife. Er…Mrs. Caldwell.”
“Please, just call me Kendra,” she rushed to say, smoothing the skirt of the peach gown. Goodness, a new name was a hard thing to get used to. It felt downright strange.
As a duchess, she had no proper surname anymore—she’d be signing letters with her husband’s title, as Kendra Amberley. She didn’t feel like a duchess, but neither did she feel like Mrs. Caldwell.
“I’m glad of your acquaintance, Mrs. Kendra.” A tall, skinny lad held his hand out to her, looking toward Trick for approval. At her husband’s nod, the boy reached to grasp Kendra’s hand and kissed the back of it fervently.
“Ahem. Andrew.” When
