He wandered among the shelves until he found what he was looking for. After he settled into his carved mahogany armchair, he held up the book to show her the cover. "The Swiss Family Robinson," he said and started reading.
Lizzie promptly forgot all her woes as she got lost in the adventures of the stranded family narrated to her in her husband’s clear and strong voice.
Two hours later, when she finished brushing her hair, she didn’t wait for him to come to her; instead, she knocked first.
*
“What did you do today?” Duke Talbot asked his wife as they took their after-dinner tea in the library two weeks later.
“I was in -,” she started, but stopped herself, then tried again, “I was writing to Mayfair.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“What else did you do?”
“I was in bed.”
“Writing letters in bed?” Her husband frowned, most likely imagining the ink everywhere.
“No! I was writing,thenI was in bed.”
“Are you not feeling well?” he leaned forward, as if ready to fight the imaginary malaise.
“It’s just… woman troubles.”
He frowned.
“My courses,” she said in a whisper, although they were alone in the library.
Her husband looked even more alarmed.
“Should you be walking around? Don’t you need to be resting?”
“I’m not an invalid,” Lizzie laughed, “I felt a bit tired today, so I rested, but I’m perfectly fine otherwise. This happens every month, you know,” she teased him and could see by the set of his mouth that he didn’t appreciate it.
“I don’t like it,” he said in a petulant tone. “You need to take care of yourself.”
“I do, I promise,” she said more gently and took his hand without thinking.
He looked down at their hands and it seemed to her he was admiring the sight. He raised her hand and pressed it to his mouth. An inexplicable rush of shyness and delight flooded her entire body.
“Lady Burnham is arriving tomorrow,” she announced excitedly to draw attention away from how flustered she was.
“I imagine you must be very excited.”
“I am,” she nodded, “you shall like her very much, I’m sure.”
“I don’t know. I haven’t really liked that many women in my life.”
“Hm,” his wife considered his words. “Have you spent time with many of them?”
“I must admit, beyond the superficial social calls and conventional interactions at balls and similar events, not much deep conversation has taken place between me and the gentler sex.”
Lizzie’s face suddenly grew cold and distant, and he realised with a pang of regret that his playful words must have reminded his jealous wife of his bachelor ways.
“There is only one woman I like,” he murmured in her ear before placing a hot, wet kiss on her neck.
