Page 24 of When a Duke Desires a Lass

Resting his hips on the edge of the desk and one hand cupping his elbow, the other fisted beneath his chin, Tobias mentally ran through a list of possibilities. As quickly as they formed, he discarded them for one reason or another.

Emily regarded him with patient expectation, as if it were the most normal thing in the world for them to discuss a problem and arrive at a solution together. Something a husband and wife might do.

A hint of color yet tinged her cheeks, and if Pepperford looked closely when he entered the room, he wouldn’t miss her residual blush. Or her berry red lips from Tobias’s kisses. Nevertheless, Pepperford, being Pepperford, wouldn’t betray his observation with as much as a twitch or flared nostril. In truth, Emily could dance on Tobias’s desk in her unmentionables, and nothing in the self-possessed servant’s demeanor would alter a jot.

Tobias made a mental note to give the majordomo an increase in wages.

A gust of wind sent rain pellets lashing against the window. This April was the ficklest Tobias had ever experienced. One day almost balmy with brilliant blue skies, and the next, raging like a fishwife who caught her husband straying.

Pepperford entered, bearing the tea tray with the dignity of a knight bringing a trophy to his monarch. After setting the laden tray upon the oval table before the couch, he faced Tobias.

“Will there be anything else, Your Grace?”

“Not at present.” Tobias straightened and crossed to the sofa. “Thank you, Pepperford.”

With another nod, the butler quit the room.

After picking up the scrap of news sheet and setting it on the tea table, Tobias settled beside her.

“Would you please pour, Emily?”

“Of course.” The smile teasing the corners of her mouth clearly said she’d already assumed she’d do so.

As she went about the task with practiced efficiency, Tobias hooked an ankle over his knee. He rather liked this intimate coziness that had sprung up between them—could become accustomed to it. To Emily being present in his life.

Waking with her beside him and her beautiful sleep befuddled eyes the first thing he saw each morning. To having her sitting across the table from him at each meal and reading together before the library fireplace in the evening.

And at night?

Egads. Best not to let his mind toddle down that tempting trail.

Emily set the teapot down, and for the first time, Tobias noticed a small scar on her little finger. Though she was a widow, an aura of innocence yet shrouded her.

“How old are you?” he asked impulsively.

“What?” She scrunched her nose in the adorable way she did when perplexed.

He grinned. “How old are you?”

“Don’t you know it’s rude to ask a lady her age?”

She didn’t seem particularly offended.

“If I don’t ask, how can I find out?” He hitched a shoulder. “I’m six and thirty, by the by.”

“Positively ancient,” she quipped. “How have you, a duke, managed to avoid the parson’s mousetrap for so long?” Abruptly pausing, she shot him a contrite glance. “That was prying. I’m sorry.”

“Not a bit of it.” Tobias snatched a Shrewsbury biscuit and took a bite. “I haven’t met the right woman.”

Until now.

An undecipherable expression whisked across her porcelain features. “If you must know, I am thirty.”

“Not so ancient,” he teased with a roguish wink.

“Ha!” she scoffed, wrinkling her nose. “I’m on the shelf, well and good.”

“You’re not too old to marry and have children, Emily.”