Page 46 of Ne'er Duke Well


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She licked her lips and set the pages down, but it was too late. The next line of the poem whispered in her mind.

And all my body glows with flame.

Yes, that was how it had felt. As though her body were glowing. Sparking to life and then catching fire.

She’d burned from the inside out when Peter had touched her, when he’d kissed her.

And she’d wanted more. What she’d read about and seen in illustrations—his mouth on her breasts. His hands beneath her skirts.

She wanted it now, as she thought about the sweet pressure of Peter’s lips, his long fingers digging into her hip, the hoarse sound of pleasure he’d made.

She realized that the heel of her palm was pressed hard into her thigh. Somehow her legs had loosened, splaying open wider as she sat at her desk. Her hand drifted closer to the apex of her thighs as if called by the ache there.

It was all tangled in her mind now—her dream of Peter’s body, his hands clamped hard on her flesh, his teeth grazing the skin of her neck.

Peter’s mouth. Her fingers in his hair. His—

A knock sounded at her door, and Selina let out a strangled cry and leapt to her feet.

“Selina, darling? Are you quite all right?”

It was Thomasin. Sweet, gentle Thomasin.

Selina looked frantically about the room as if for evidence of her erotic crimes. She shoved the book of poetry into the drawer of her escritoire, avoided her flushed and guilty reflection, and hurled herself into her bed.

She buried her face in a decorative pillow and tried to cool her flaming skin. “I’m perfectly well,” she mumbled into the brocade. “Come in, please.”

She managed to look up as Thomasin entered, her round face creased in a smile. Thomasin made her way to the bed and sat down, unfolding a handkerchief and spreading it out on the counterpane to reveal a handful of dried fruit.

Apricots. She knew Selina had loved apricots since she was a child.

“Just wanted to check on you, dear one. You were quiet at breakfast.”

Selina plucked one of the golden fruits from the handkerchief and stuffed it into her mouth to avoid having to respond. She chewed methodically and sought to calm her nerves.

Her brother Nicholas had raised her and Will himself—but Aunt Judith and Thomasin had been there since she and Will were six. They’d arrived the day of their parents’ funeral and never left. Thomasin knew Selina better than anyone. It was extremely difficult to hide anything from her.

When she finished chewing, she said, “I’m feeling out of sorts, that’s all.” Good Lord, what a way to describegripped by uncontrollable erotic fantasies. “Nothing serious. I’ll feel better in a few days. I’m sure.”

Thomasin’s gray curls bobbed as she tilted her head. “What’s going on with Stanhope?”

It was fortunate she’d finished the apricot, or she would havechoked. “N-nothing,” she stuttered. “I… I don’t think of him that way.”Oh, Selina, you lying liar.

Thomasin appeared to be smothering a grin. “Indeed. I’d only meant, how goes his marital campaign? But—good to know.”

Oh Lord, she had a turnip for a brain. “Right,” she said. “It’s…”

What did she say?Not too well, I think, considering he spent last evening kissing the single most ineligible debutante in England.

“I’d hoped he would have made more progress by now,” she said carefully. There, that was relatively neutral. Not too incriminating. She hoped.

“My darling.” Thomasin tucked a wayward strand of Selina’s hair behind her ear, and Selina wanted to curl into her soft, rose-scented touch like a little girl. “You don’t need to take care of everyone, you know.”

She looked down at the pillow in her lap, tracing the brocade whorls. “I know.”

“Do you?” Thomasin’s voice was gentle, but Selina still felt the faintest bit stung.

“I do know. I know my own limitations.” She knew she was too overbearing, that she came on too strong and intimidated people. She knew there was so much in the world that she couldn’t fix.