The Day of the Duchess (Scandal & Scoundrel, #3)

by Sarah MacLean

A flash of color came behind them, a deep, rich aubergine. Sera. Dammit, he would do it right now if he thought it would change things. He stilled. Would it change things? His heart began to pound as she came through the doorway, interest in her eyes and curiosity on her face. “This is a lovely folly,” she said. He would do it now. Here, in this place that his ancestor had built for a woman loved beyond reason. He would do it in front of these women, and finish this idiot scheme. Had he not told himself this morning that he was through with schemes? Awareness and pleasure and excitement and desire pulled the words from him, as though he was a too-eager schoolboy. “I shall do it now.” He did not see the instant surprise and clear doubt in Lilith and Felicity’s eyes. He was too busy looking at his wife, who stepped through the doorway, into the conversation, a portrait of interest. He did not see Lilith shake her head. He did not see Felicity open her mouth to speak, or see the way her brow furrowed when Sera asked, “You shall do what?” If he had seen any of that, he might not have said what he said in front of what immediately seemed like all the world. He might not have looked her in the eyes and said, with no thought of what might come of it, as though it were the most ordinary thing in the world, “Tell you that I love you.”