Page 61 of All Duke and Bothered

Penelope nodded. “I look forward to tasting more Spanish cuisine. All I’ve known my entire life are regular English dishes.”

She wished she’d known Preston’s parents, just as she wished her own mama were still alive and he could know her.

When they finished their slices and their glasses of wine, Preston thanked the two servants.

“How long will you stay for, Your Grace?” asked Harney.

“Two weeks at least,” said Preston. “You couldn’t have heard, but Chalworth Place burned down two nights past. We’re here to recover from the shock. Get some fresh air.”

“Is everyone all right, Your Grace?” asked Harney with a tone of worry. “Are you?”

“Yes, thank you, Harney,” said Preston. “Thankfully, no one was harmed badly. Of course, there are cuts, burns, and bruises on the brave servants and firemen, but everyone’s alive and will recover. Now it’s a matter of finding us a new home while Chalworth is being rebuilt.”

“Was much lost in fire?” asked Mrs. Liddle. “Would you like me to arrange sending some furniture to Sumhall to store until you find a new home?”

“Not for the moment,” said Preston. “But it reminds me.” He looked at Penelope with a twinkle in his eyes. “Do you know where Mama’s old watercolor paints are, Mrs. Liddle? Her paper, pens, brushes… You see, Her Grace is a talented artist, but most of her art and art supplies were lost in the fire.”

“Oh, of course, I know exactly where they are. Let me get them for you.”

While Mrs. Liddle, Harney, and the footman returned back into the house, Penelope wrapped her arms around Preston’s neck, and he pulled her into his embrace. He kissed her, his lips soft and tender, making her head spin and the ground shift under her feet.

“Are you sure you don’t mind me using your mama’s paints?” she asked when he pulled away.

“Of course not,” he said. “She would have been the first to offer them.”

Later, while Preston stood on the jetty before the pond with a fishing pole in his hands, with the most serene and nostalgic expression, Penelope painted. She painted the picture before her—the idyllic pond, the jetty, the boat, only she added a family, too. Four children, two parents, a picnic blanket, and a picnic.

She painted the deceased Duke of Grandhampton standing on that jetty with a fishing pole, small Preston and Richard looking at the fish in the bucket. Little Calliope with her auburn locks next to her beautiful mama with her dark hair and her pretty white dress, making a dandelion wreath.

And Spencer. She had painted everyone and the whole landscape except him. He was a white silhouette standing next to his papa with a fishing pole, the tallest and the largest of the boys.

Spencer’s absence was a gaping hole in that painting. And as she began painting him, the hole in the painting started to fill.

But would the hole his death had left in the family ever be filled?

And would her and Preston’s happiness ever be complete with that vast chasm of Spencer’s absence between them?

25

“Preston…”

Penelope’s sweet voice broke through his sleep, and he felt soft hair tickling his naked chest. He inhaled a lungful of her scent—clean skin and the lavender soap she’d used when she bathed last night.

Blindly, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her onto him, her naked, soft breasts brushing against his torso. She giggled, and he grinned, opening his eyes. She gazed down at him, smiling from ear to ear, bathed in the sunlight coming from the window of his old bedroom, her uncombed hair glowing in a halo. Heavens, after three days in Grandhampton, just the two of them, he could not stop wondering how he had gotten so lucky with this woman. He had no notion. All he could do was be thankful for every moment she chose to be in his arms, every moment he was fortunate enough to hold her.

He kissed her lightly, even though his cock was already semihard, just from feeling her thighs on both sides of his hips and her warm and soft sex pressed against him in exactly the right place.

“Yes, Duchess?” he said.

“I have an idea.”

“If that idea involves you and me naked, I’m all yours.”

“Well, it does involve you naked.”

“All right, then.” He shifted his hips up, which caused the most delicious friction against her body, and groaned. He leaned forward to kiss her properly, but she avoided him.

“Not like that.”