Read Online The Duke's Disaster (R) by Grace Burrowes - Free Book Online

of her bare flesh.
    “Go to sleep, Wife,” he murmured. His Grace excelled at issuing orders even when stark naked. “You can fret about it all tomorrow, I promise.”
    He patted her shoulder, and while Thea knew the duke graced her bed out of a desire to provide convincing appearances in the morning, she also suspected he was torturing her. If these were his casual caresses, what might it have been like to know his highest regard, his most tender intimacies?
    Thea checked her unruly imagination from speculating on that theme. Bad enough she’d let matters progress as far as they had. Terrible, in fact, but also so undeniably lovely.
    Who would have thought?
    And because Thea would never in a hundred years have attributed such tenderness to her new spouse, it was also, despite all, the greatest kindness that he would stay with her and soothe her to sleep and smile at her as she woke in the morning.
    * * *

    “Arise, Wife. You are a thief as well as a liar,” Noah pronounced the minute his duchess’s eyes opened. When she merely wrinkled her nose and burrowed back into the pillows, he added a poor ability to take orders to her transgressions.
    His duchess was not so dignified in the morning, and she’d slept on soundly as Noah had risen and shaved.
    “Madam. Wake. Up.”
    “I do not steal.” She muttered this to the pillow she clutched like a drowning sailor clutches a passing spar.
    “Wake up, Duchess.” Noah sat on the edge of the bed, which meant she listed toward him. “We embark on the first day of our conjugal bliss this morning, and I cannot have you wasting the hours abed.”
    “Tea?”
    Noah passed her a steaming hot cup, with cream and sugar—not milk, of course. Duking had its privileges.
    “Drink it all.” He rose and crossed to the sitting room, coming back into the bedroom pushing a tea cart. “You will partake of sustenance while we plan our day.”
    “Hush.” Thea was at least sitting up, her cheek faintly wrinkled from passing the night in intimate congress with her pillow. Her hair was a mess, cascading down her back in a dark waterfall, and her eyes were soft. Noah saw a hint of beard burn on the side of her neck.
    Well, hell, did a lying, prevaricating new wife ever look so intimately adorable?
    “Butter, my lady?”
    She cradled her teacup as if it held the secret to eternal life. “In quantity.”
    He made her a plate with a thick slice of raisin bread, halved and slathered with butter, garnished with several sections of orange and a sprig of mint.
    “You steal covers,” Noah said, putting together his own plate, which included bacon, eggs, buttered toast, and a single section of orange.
    “I beg your pardon.” Thea’s voice was even as Noah settled on the bed beside her, his dressing gown gaping open when he leaned back against the headboard.
    “We do breakfast so well here in England,” he remarked, munching his toast. “It sets one up for great disappointment in the remaining meals.”
    “We have good desserts,” his duchess remarked between bites, “and excellent cuts of meat. So what would you have of me today?”
    “Eat.” Noah put a piece of bacon on her plate. “You need some meat on your bones if you’re to keep up with your spouse, Duchess. I am not a restful presence.”
    “Nor nice,” she reminded him, then looked abruptly pained. “But I must thank you for your forbearance.”
    Noah shrugged and did not look at her. “I stole the covers back.”
    He’d already told her they would not discuss their wedding night again. He was not forbearing, he was practical, adept at making the best of a bad bargain. “More tea, madam?”
    “Please.”
    “I will be your lady’s maid this morning, and you will be my valet. My sisters will likely descend this afternoon, inspecting the ravages of our night of passion. You will smile, blush, and stammer convincingly?”
    “B-b-but of course, Your Grace.”
    “Just so.” He smiled into his teacup, despite her