Page 84 of Duke of Rath

She beamed at him, her smile full of sunshine. “And you made it all better. Who knew you had such a nurturing side?”

“Goddamn it!” he growled. “It’s even warmer today.”

“I already asked Mrs. Knight to bring plenty of water. You have nothing to worry about. I also have no corset to constrict me.”

“I saw that. What are you thinking, going out without a corset, for any man to see…?”

Her gorgeous, full, tender breasts were his alone to enjoy.

“The footmen and the gardeners have a free day today,” she chirped, and as they both stepped out through the back doors and into the garden, she stopped and took a lungful of air, closing her eyes. “What a perfect day for gardening.”

She eyed him critically, from head to toe, before passing him the box she was carrying. “How about you help me today and protect my uncorseted breasts from anyone trying to take an unsolicited peek? Anyone such as a bee…a bird…an unscrupulous caterpillar?”

He swallowed as he stared at the garden, which looked nothing like it had before she’d moved in.

They’d spent the last three days in each other’s arms and he hadn’t let her take a single step out of his bedchamber. He nursed her, rebandaged her ankle every day, had Chastity inspect the cut and approve the positive effect of her antiseptic, which she also written down in her papers. They didn’t talk about Lucien or Patience’s persistent digging, even though every time he thought about it, his blood chilled.

She hadn’t promised him she’d stop searching, and helplessness made him want to lash out, hit something, destroy something, like before.

But he didn’t. Because she was more important. Their happiness was more important.

He fucked her every night, free from his former restraint. And he was happy, seeing her fall apart in his arms, seeing her seemingly enjoy the rough way he liked to couple as much as he did. Perhaps that was what had helped to dull his fury.

Or perhaps it was simply her. She was stronger than the beast of wrath inside him. But the day of reckoning would still come, he knew, no matter how happy he was now, no matter how much he was turning away from his fury.

However, during the past three days, he had smiled more often than he had in all thirty-two years of his life.

So, to hell with the angry, wrathful beast inside.

The garden that had brought so much pain to him, that had twisted his very soul, was unrecognizable. She had transformed it. And to his amazement, he quite liked the idea of helping Patience tend it.

And keeping an eye on her, of course, ensuring she drank plenty of water and didn’t get overheated.

He allowed his mouth to stretch into a smile, and his chest filled with the most agreeable, light feeling. “Yes,” he said as he took the wooden box from her hands. “I would quite like that.”

Her smile was bright enough to blind him.

And he loved it.

When they reached a well-raked patch of dirt bordered by gray stones along the curvy garden path, Patience peered into the box of bulbs he was holding.

“Would you mind helping me plant these hyacinths?” she asked, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “I know it’s a not the ideal time to plant them, but I couldn’t resist their lovely colors and fragrances. We’ll need to dig holes about six inches deep and space them about six inches apart. It’s a bit of an experiment—they might not bloom fully this season, but we can hope for at least some flowers, and they’ll certainly be beautiful next spring.”

Dorian put the box on the ground and rolled up his sleeves. “Just show me where to begin.”

Patience knelt to the black earth and demonstrated how to use a trowel to dig a hole, carefully placing a bulb inside and covering it with soil. Dorian watched intently, then selected a bulb from the basket and knelt down to try his hand at planting.

As he worked the trowel into the earth, Dorian marveled at the unfamiliar sensations—the cool, damp soil beneath the fingers of his left hand, the earthy scent that filled his nostrils, the satisfying resistance of the ground as he dug. He had never imagined that such simple manual labor could be so fulfilling, but with Patience by his side, he found himself thoroughly enjoying the task.

And he did not at all let himself become distracted by any other sort of bulb…two gorgeous, delicious bulbs that were hanging and bouncing so loosely in his wife’s dress as she worked by his side.

His chest filled with lightness, sweet tension.

Happiness, he thought, and grinned to himself. The sun on his skin, the dirt under his fingernails, the woman he loved by his side.

This was true happiness.

He never imagined he would feel this emotion in the garden that had been the source of so much misery.