He spotted a bottle of wine from the Stapleton cellar, fallen over by the steps and empty.

  Samuel must come here sometimes.

  If the cottage had been larger, Milo might have exercised his right as the oldest son to claim it for himself and keep his promise to Amelia. They could have a separate home of their own away from the manor on the estate, and it would give her a garden to potter around in and space to raise their children while they were here. He liked the idea, to be honest, but the cottage was far too shabby for his family in its current state.

  He stepped closer to an open doorway and noticed that the frame was newly mended. The door swung easily when he pushed. Clean, fresh floorboards began at the door and continued down the hallway.

  He knocked on the door. “Samuel.”

  Only silence answered him.

  Beyond the repaired door, there were a few other visible signs that his brother might be living inside the ruins now.

  He faced the woods and then retraced his steps.

  His family was where he’d left them, and he was pleased to see Lucy had edged closer to Amelia while he was gone.

  He met Amelia’s gaze and shrugged. “There’s no one here.”

  “Only if you never dare turn around,” Samuel called from somewhere to his left.

  Milo pivoted toward the sound and found his brother—shirtless, shoeless—standing not far away, with an axe held loosely in his hand. His brother was all gleaming muscle and sweat, as if he’d been swinging that axe only moments before.

  But he was unfit for viewing by a lady like his wife.

  Milo rushed toward him. “Attend to your appearance, brother. There is a lady and children present,” he warned.

  Samuel scanned the clearing and spotted his children and Amelia watching him. He shrugged. “Father must have warned you that I was living wild in the woods. You shouldn’t have brought them.”

  “Yes, well, I wanted to see you myself. Find a shirt and put it on this minute.”

  “It’s all right, Chatham,” Amelia called. “I have no interest in meeting an unkempt scoundrel.”

  He smiled at her bravado but noticed that her cheeks were a little pink with embarrassment when she looked between Milo and his brother.

  His children saw nothing wrong with the state of their uncle, though, and rushed toward him. Adam received a pat on his head, and Lucy earned a short bow.

  “What are you doing out here? Did Papa’s dull guests drive you from the manor already?” Samuel asked, as he finally struggled into a filthy shirt deserving of the scrap heap.

  Milo gritted his teeth at his insufficient improvement. “I’ve come to make some introductions.”

  Samuel’s gaze slid to Amelia, and he squinted at her. “Don’t I know you already?”

  “Back then, we barely spoke. I imagined you would not remember me, given how the night ended.”

  “I could never forget you,” Samuel replied, bowing with extravagant grace.

  Amelia shook her head, but a blush lingered on her cheeks as she studied Samuel with parted lips.

  A cold hand pressed between Milo’s shoulder blades, and he stared at his wife in distraction. “You are better acquainted with my brother than you let on?”

  “Oh yes,” Samuel said. “Amelia and I got drunk together once.”

  Milo gaped

  Amelia scowled though. “That is simply not true. He got horribly drunk at my brother’s house, and I put him to bed. Well, I told the servants to do it, and ordered him to keep his voice down when he complained about my poor hospitality.”

  Milo stiffened, his temper rising. “When was this?”

  “Not long after…”

  She left the rest unsaid and glanced down at her fingers.

  Samuel’s worst behavior stemmed from one particular moment in time: the death of his beloved wife. From then on, Samuel had lost his way in a manner that grew more concerning by the year.

  His wife had been an extraordinary woman…but she wasn’t the only woman in the world. Amelia had taught Milo that.

  Samuel had two sons to live for, too. The example he set was abominable. The boys deserved so much better from their father. He wondered if Samuel even knew where they were at that moment.

  “Samuel…”

  But that was all he managed to say because his brother turned his back on them.

  “Go back to the manor, brother, and tell our father I’m happier here in the wild than anywhere.”

  “I can’t do that. I promised.”

  Samuel turned back abruptly. “What did Father promise you in return for your efforts to reform me? Clearly, you fulfilled his dearest wish to have at least one of us leg-shackled again.”

  Milo was surprised that Samuel had heard he was married already. “Our father promised me nothing if I married again.”

  “And yet you have done so,” Samuel noted, with a nod toward Amelia. “You of all people should know why I wish for solitude.”

  “If you do not wish for ramblers disturbing your wallowing,” Amelia cut in, “you should put up a ‘no trespassing’ sign.”

  Samuel glanced at Amelia, clearly considering her suggestion. “I might do that yet. Thank you for the suggestion.”

  She glanced around and wrinkled her nose. “I’m sure there’s paint at the manor that you could beg for, to make your martyrdom more obvious and satisfying.”

  Samuel growled. “Why don’t you mind your own business for once and leave me alone?”

  “Why don’t you finish dressing, and I’ll consider discussing it?” Amelia shook her head. “Your wife, she married a gentleman, not a peddler. A man who would protect her children from harm and give them love, no matter what happened to her. She would be embarrassed if she knew you lived like this.”

  Samuel’s jaw clenched, and he turned away to snatch up his coat.

  Milo studied Amelia in surprise at her blunt criticism. There were not many women who would confront a widow without offering platitudes.

  But when Amelia winked at him, then wiped all expression from her face before Samuel could see, Milo smiled. His instincts had been right. Amelia would make a formidable duchess one day, if this was how she dealt with his still-grieving sibling.

  When Milo turned back to his brother, Samuel was striding off into the woods alone. “Samuel, come back here.”

  “I’ve got things to do,” he shouted.

  Milo followed his brother a few steps, hoping that Amelia remained behind. But she and the children followed along, Amelia and Adam talking about Samuel and his cousins. Lucy continued with her sour expression and attempted to interrupt them.

  Milo paused for a second, exasperated. “For heavens sake, Lucy, let your brother finish talking and then you can take your turn.”

  He gave chase. Samuel had entered another clearing, where several trees had been felled, but it was clear they were the result of storm damage, not deliberately cut down. One branch had a length of canvas tied over it, creating an open-ended tent. Inside was a pile of blankets.

  Milo winced at his brother wanting to live in such rough surroundings. He picked up a long saw, the type used by the estate woodsmen. “What are you doing with this?”

  “Making a table,” he said, throwing his coat across a tree branch.

  Milo couldn’t hide his surprise. “Since when do you know carpentry?”

  “Since forever. What do you think I do when I travel around? Sit in ale houses and drink myself insensible all day and every night?”

  “Well, yes,” Milo admitted. That was what he’d done fairly often—until he’d reconsidered marriage and noticed Amelia’s potential.

  “I promised my wife a home, and I failed her while she lived. Now, I intend to put my time and knowledge to practical use. Use the skills I possess to build the things that I need for my sons.”

  “What you need to do is come back to the manor and explain this decision of yours to Father. He is worried.”

  “Father should worry about you more.” Samuel was suddenly right next to him. “You are the one who married without love,” he hissed. “But I know you better than anyone, brother. You swore never to make another rash decision based on emotions but it seems you have.” He glanced toward Amelia. “But it’s her I feel most sorry for. She doesn’t know what you did, does she?”

  Milo froze. There were some things in his past that Amelia didn’t need to hear about. Especially the drunken confessions of an event that Samuel had been privy to.

  He glared at his brother to silence him. “You hold your tongue.”

  Samuel scowled.

  Milo glanced toward Amelia, but she was leaning down to hear Adam.

  “Yes, dear,” Amelia said, patting his back. “It is almost time to go back to the manor to get you something to eat.”

  Milo exhaled in relief that his wife had been preoccupied just then.

  She glanced his way and smiled. “Chatham, the children wish to return to the manor.”

  “Of course,” he said. “You go ahead and I’ll catch up in a moment.”

  He wanted a few words in private with his brother first.

  Amelia and Adam turned away. “Come along, my dears.”

  Milo let out a relieved breath as Lucy rushed after them a moment later, calling for Adam to wait for her.

  Milo held his tongue until they were all far enough away not to hear him speak. “Come back or don’t. But if you’re going to stir up trouble for me, stay the hell out here in the woods for all I care.”

  “For God’s sake, Milo. You can’t go on like this.”

  “Go on like what?”

  “Pretending you were always a loving husband,” Samuel warned.

  Milo stiffened. “I did my best, just as you did.”

  “My conscience is clear, unlike yours,” Samuel said. “You hated her by the end. You talked to me about divorce. Then your wife conveniently fell to her death, and no one else saw how it happened but you,” Samuel noted, one brow raised. “What am I supposed to think?”

  “It was an accident,” Milo swore, but he broke out into a sweat just the same.

  Samuel pressed his lips together a moment then shook his head. “She’s prettier than I remembered. You always did prefer blondes.”

  “Her looks are not why I married her.”

  “Are you sure? You chose your first wife based on looks alone. She was lively and popular and pretty, had the dowry you wanted, and she made your head spin with the impossible dream.”

  Amelia hadn’t done that for him. But it was true—for his first wife, he had made a great many rash decisions where she was concerned. He had not done so with Amelia. “I was in love then,” Milo said firmly.

  “But not this time? For some, attraction alone isn’t enough to make a marriage work. Be careful, she could look for affection elsewhere. If I hadn’t seen you two together, I would have laughed at the idea of you marrying again.”

  “What difference does it make, seeing us together?”

  “I saw that possessive, suspicious gleam in your eye when I said we spent a night together. You hang on her every word.”

  Milo scoffed. “Her words are new to my ears, that’s all. We have only just begun to get to know each other. Yesterday, we argued. Brother, this will never be like my first marriage.”

  Samuel frowned. “Are you sure you don’t want more?”

  “No, I don’t and nor does she.”

  “A pity. She suits you better than your first wife ever did.”

  Samuel turned away, disappearing into the woods and leaving Milo quaking in his boots, full of anger and dread. It had been an accident, his first wife’s death, but there’d been more than one moment when Milo had wished he could escape the misery of their marriage by any means.

  “I never wanted her dead,” he told himself…but the moments following her fall, he’d felt a surge of relief that there was an end to the torture of a failed love and ongoing betrayal.

  He shook off the bad memory and hurried after Amelia and his children. He found them waiting a short distance away. The sight of Amelia steadied him, cut through the chill and made the future seem not so bleak.

  “My apologies for keeping you waiting.”

  “I was happy to wait.” Amelia looked around one last time. “This place could be so pretty if the gardens were brought to life. It would be a great deal of work—but the reward would be limitless. I can see why Samuel chose to stay here and not take up residence in an ale house.”

  He nodded. Concern about Samuel had lessened considerably after their conversation. Staying at Stapleton had lost much of its appeal for him, too, thanks to Samuel’s reminder of his failure.

  Amelia heaved a heavy sigh. “I can also understand why he’d like nothing better than to have a place like this for his own. But after your brother spends more time alone, I’m sure he will crave to share his life with someone he can care about again.”

  “I hope so, too. Devon will feel like home soon enough for you. But I want to discuss something my brother hinted at.”

  She glanced at Adam pointedly. “Adam, could you run ahead? I think I see a gardener picking flowers. Would you like to give some to the duchess today?”

  Adam nodded quickly and ran off to pester the gardener to cut flowers. Milo was relieved that Lucy followed him immediately.

  Amelia glanced up at him. “You don’t have to discuss your first marriage anymore.”

  “I should explain⁠—”

  “No one in your family expected you to marry a second time,” she said. “I understand, and I’m not offended by their lack of enthusiasm for my company. Your brother lashes out because his heart is still healing. I cannot hold a grudge against him.”

  “Well, I will. I have no regrets about you.”

  “Nor I, you.” She moved closer, eyes suddenly skimming down his body. “None at all.”

  His senses came alert in a way he found disconcerting at first. He knew that look, but had not expected to see it from his new wife. “Lady Chatham?”

  She wet her lips. “There is something I wish to ask you that might be considered scandalous.”

  “You can ask me anything,” he promised.

  She put her hand on his arm, then touched his chest. Her fingers trembled. “Are you as well built as your brother under all this finery?”

  He covered her hand with his own. Amelia had not yet seen him naked. He’d not wanted to shock her. “I suppose so.”

  “I thought you must be. You seem of similar proportions.”

  Milo shivered as her eyes skimmed down his body again, her gaze speculative but shy. He was flattered by her interest. “Would you like to see me like that?”

  “Yes. I’ve seen my share of young men out in the fields, covered in sweat. But it’s you that interests me. I married you, and I want to know more about you.”

  He drew her close, pleased to feel she trembled at the discussion of further intimacy, and when she dragged her fingers down his chest, he felt the stirring of desire. “What would you think if you saw me like that now?” he whispered. “Naked and covered in sweat.”

  She looked up at him slowly. “I think I would like it, but I won’t know for sure until it happens.”

  The warmth in her gaze drowned out the chill of his brother’s unpleasant reminders about the past. He surrendered his caution and let his hand touch her hip—and then he stepped closer and moved it lower still, and around to cup her derriere.

  Amelia was no longer a virgin. Was this the second chance he desperately needed with his wife? Only a fool would refuse her second seduction, if that were so.

  Desire flooded him when she clenched his shirt front and her breath sped up. This was his life now, living with a woman he could enjoy without expecting foolish emotional games to be played. He respected Amelia, and desired her, too. And he wanted her underneath him again.

  He gulped at how much he wanted that right now, in fact. But the children were not far away.

  He lowered his lips toward her ear and whispered, “Lady Chatham, could you bear intimacy with your husband tonight?”

  Her breath caught. “I could very easily. I want to bear your child very much.”

  He wet his lips. “I wasn’t sure if you would welcome me so soon after my recent behavior.”

  “It is difficult to know what to do or say to you. I want things that a woman in love might expect from her husband, even though…”

  He understood exactly what she meant. “Shall we make a pact—that if we have needs unfulfilled, then we can have each other and discuss desire openly. Unless it is an inconvenient time of the month, of course.”

  She exhaled quickly. “I would like that. So, you’ll come to our bed tonight and…?”

  “Yes.” His first wife hadn’t liked him to stay in her bed for long and had demanded her own chamber. But this was Amelia, and she was different in the best ways, and they shared a bedchamber. A place where they could undress and then…

  He tugged at his cravat.

  He did not want to wait until tonight to see her shatter in his arms again. “I have a better idea. How about we leave our children in the care of the servants for what remains of the day and retire to our room now?”

  She drew back, eyes wide with shock. “Now?”

  Milo nodded slowly as he brought his hand back around and gripped her hip tighter. Amelia shuddered. She was warm, and her breath came so fast. The rush of desire was evident in the heightening color of her cheeks and the parting of her lips.

  He smiled slowly, glad to know he wasn’t the only one affected when they were near each other. The other difficulties they faced didn’t seem important anymore. “We can have each other any time of the day or night,” he assured her. “It is expected that newlyweds disappear at odd times.”

  “Papa, what are you doing to her?” Lucy called.

  Milo removed his hand from Amelia’s body slowly, chastened because he had been caught seducing his own wife by his children.

  Their children.