He paused, embarrassed.

  He was still at the mercy of his emotions…and they urged him to find her immediately.

  And so he did.

  Amelia was in the schoolroom, helping the children with their letters and their maid watching on. It made him so happy to see them all together. Adam sat happily beside Amelia, copying lines of letters with his tongue poking out the corner of his mouth and there was a look on Amelia’s face that suggested she was trying not to laugh.

  Lucy, however, glowered at her slate as if it had insulted her personally.

  “Your hand will cramp if you grip the chalk so tightly,” Amelia warned lightly.

  Lucy tightened her grip even further and scowled.

  Milo sighed and stepped inside the room. It was killing him not to interfere too much but Amelia had warned that it would take time. “Good morning again, children.”

  Lucy whipped around. Her expression brightened instantly. “Papa! Can we please go riding, now that you are back?”

  “I haven’t gone.”

  “Then I can come with you?” She squealed and ran to him, flinging her arms around his waist, and he rested a hand on her head out of habit. Affection stirred—but so did worry. Lucy clung to him, and to the past, too tightly. Needed him too desperately, too. Her possessiveness grew more troubling by the day.

  He glanced at his wife, hoping for guidance from her.

  But she wasn’t watching. “They were practicing their letters, but of course she can go riding with her papa,” Amelia said, rising from her chair and dusting off her fingers as she turned away.

  Lucy shot her a look sharp enough to cut glass.

  Adam sighed. “I don’t want to go unless Mama takes me.”

  Milo’s heart leapt at the word Mama from his son’s lips, and he saw Amelia turn back, heart in her eyes as she stared at Adam.

  Lucy gasped. “She is not⁠—”

  “Enough,” Milo’s barked, his tone sharp enough that both children flinched. He directed his gaze on his daughter alone. “You will show respect for Amelia, or so help me, I will send you back to Devon alone.”

  Lucy’s lower lip trembled, and she pulled away from him. “She is taking you away from us,” she whispered. “Lady Ashcroft was right!”

  Milo clenched his jaw, pain twisting through him at the extent of Phillipa’s meddling. He would deal with that woman today, one way or another. “No one is taking anything from either of you, Lucinda. Amelia is your stepmother, and she cares for you.”

  “She is not Mama!” Lucy insisted with a stamp of her foot.

  “She is not trying to replace your mother,” he said firmly. “But she is part of our family.”

  Lucy’s eyes filled with tears. “You love her more than me.”

  The words struck clean through him, as they had the first time he’d heard her say that.

  Amelia inhaled sharply—but she did not speak. Bless her for that. She understood instinctively that one wrong word could crush the girl completely.

  He knelt in front of his daughter for the second time that day. “I have loved you from the moment you were born, Lucy. I always will. But a man’s love for his child is not the same as his feelings for his wife.”

  Lucy’s chin wobbled. “You said you didn’t want a wife. I heard you tell Grandpa, Aunt Fanny, Aunt Rebecca. Everyone.”

  He winced. “I’ve said many things against marriage. Most are not true anymore.”

  Lucy ran from the room with a wail before he could say another word.

  Silence descended like a heavy curtain.

  The maid he’d forgotten about stepped forward. “I’ll go after her, my lord.”

  “Yes, please do,” he murmured.

  Amelia hugged herself. “You cannot make her want me around.”

  “I want you, and that is all that matters,” he told her, and was rewarded with a blush that made his heart skip a beat. He glanced at his son quickly. “Adam, could you help the maid, and bring your sister back?”

  “Yes, Papa,” he cried, sprinting out the door.

  He faced Amelia. “I’m sorry if what Lucy said hurt your feelings. I should have prepared her for another woman in her life. I should have been more guarded around her, and now…”

  She shrugged. “Her mother meant so much to her. I understand.”

  “Well, I won’t have it,” he muttered angrily. “I am the head of our household, and she ought to obey you without question.”

  “The heart wants what the heart wants,” she replied softly. “I don’t want her to like me because she’s expected to. I want her to want to.”

  His chest tightened. “The heart does have a mind of its own.”

  He reached for her without thinking, brushing his thumb along her smooth cheek. Amelia closed her eyes at the touch, leaning ever so slightly into his palm.

  Desire would be his undoing, yet he was powerless to resist wanting her.

  He stepped closer. “You understand me, and the children, so easily. We don’t deserve your patience but I am grateful for it.”

  Her lips parted. “I⁠—”

  He kissed her.

  It was not the ravenous hunger of the bedroom or the garden. It was slower, deeper, as though he meant to learn every nuance of her mouth all over again. She softened against him instantly, hands sliding up his chest, curling across his shoulders as though she had been waiting for this moment all along.

  He deepened the kiss, savoring her warmth. Her breath caught, and he felt her tremble.

  He lifted her easily, setting her on the table’s edge. Her skirts pooled around her thighs, and he stepped between them, kissing her again—hungry now, greedy, unable to restrain himself.

  She arched into him, her gasp swallowed by his kiss. His hands spanned her waist, sliding upward to her ribs, higher still, until he reached the soft weight of her breasts. She moaned softly when his thumbs brushed the peaks through her bodice.

  He loved her need, her eagerness, her trust. It terrified him how much it mattered.

  He wanted to lay her back on that table and take her until she forgot her own name.

  He wanted to lose himself entirely in her body.

  But footsteps sounded in the corridor again, and they jumped away from each other, him chastened by his lack of control, her blushing.

  Adam reappeared. “We can’t find her.”

  “Did you check the servant’s stairwell? Sometimes she likes to look and listen to the servants.”

  “I’ll go look again,” Adam said with a groan, and rushed off.

  Amelia’s face was flushed now, lips swollen, hair mussed, looking very much as if he had already made love to her.

  He dragged a hand down his face, appalled at his loss of control yet again.

  “We cannot continue like this,” he whispered.

  She stiffened instantly. “I’m sorry.”

  “I do not blame you.” He cursed softly. “I lose all sense when I touch you. I forget where we are. I almost made love to you in the schoolroom, of all places. Dear God, our children could have seen far too much of us both.”

  Her voice was very small. “I know.”

  He closed his eyes. “It terrifies me how unguarded we are,” he murmured. “I swore I would never feel this way again. Not after⁠—”

  He stopped himself.

  Amelia drew close and whispered, “It was never my intention to cause you pain.”

  “I know,” he admitted. “It’s a different kind from what my first wife inflicted, yet I don’t want it to stop.”

  Her breath hitched. “But it must.”

  “Yes,” he agreed.

  They stood together in the quiet schoolroom, desire still trembling between them, but something colder crept into the space after her words, too—fear that this unexpected passion would disappear one day.

  He did not want that. He was enjoying being married too much, but that was only because of Amelia. He let out a shaky breath, knowing he was on a precipice. He did not want to do anything that changed how they were together, and yet change came to everyone.

  “I need time,” he whispered.

  “So do I,” she said quietly. “I’ll go see if I can find where Lucy has gone and send the children back to you. There are some things I must do now alone.”

  “Thank you.” She was about to walk away when he recalled something that bothered him now. “Why did you leave the breakfast room so abruptly this morning?”

  She bit her lip and looked away. “I thought my courses had begun.”

  He stilled. “Have they?”

  She shook her head. “Not yet, but I expect them any day now.”

  A surge of hope filled him that Amelia might be carrying the child she longed for. Just a few more days and they’d know if he could fulfill his first promise and her reason for marriage. They made love often enough.

  He remembered the letter she’d received earlier in the day and quickly hidden under her plate. “What did your sister write to you about this time?”

  She looked at his sharply. “You didn’t read it?”

  “Of course not. Never without your permission.”

  “Thank you.” She wet her lip and an acute relief crossed her face.

  Her damn family caused her so much pain and there was little he could do about the past hurts now. He was more determined than ever now to never let them see her again though. Only Reynolds had treated her kindly and would be welcome to visit them in Devon if Amelia wished him to come. He’d punish the rest by giving them the cut direct and letting it be known that he had done so.

  “I should go,” she whispered.

  “Yes, of course. I will keep the children with me for the afternoon and come and find you later.”

  Her eyes rose and he almost kissed her again.

  Around Amelia, desire never fully went away. He hoped it never did. He was keenly aware of her as she stepped around him and left the room without another word.

  Milo let out a long, tortured breath, pressing his palms against the table where she had just been resting. He could still feel the heat of her body there, and he caressed the wood, longing to call her back. He could still feel her kisses on his lips. The taste of her on his tongue.

  And he had no earthly idea how he was supposed to pull back from the edge of insanity when he was already falling deeper under her spell. He could not say for certain if it was even only desire making the blood pound in his ears when she was around.

  She made him forget how they were meant to be.

  “Ah, there you are, Chatham,” Lady Ashcroft said as she slipped into the room. “You risk hurting my feelings when you call off our ride. I’m here to give you a second chance.”

  He straightened, annoyed with the woman seeking him out again. “I thought I made it clear I was unavailable now.”

  She shut the door behind her, the click of the lock a troubling sound. Her next words confirmed it. “Can I help it if I want you all to myself.”

  Milo was not attracted to Phillipa. He knew her intentions were self-serving. “The children will return in a moment.”

  Her smile grew sly. “Do you think so?”

  He studied her expression and scowled. “What have you done?”

  “Let’s just say I sent them on a little treasure hunt that will be vastly entertaining. Your wife will chase after them in a desperate bid to win their favor. We have ample time to talk.”

  He stared at her. “What exactly have you been saying to my daughter?”

  “Your poor wife will never win her heart, you know.”

  Milo ground his teeth.

  Phillipa walked closer, hips swaying as she approached. “You made a mistake. I can help you correct it.”

  “What mistake would that be?”

  “Isn’t it obvious,” she whispered, finger extended to touch his chest. “You married the wrong woman.”

  “Do you think so?”

  Phillipa’s smirk returned. “You can barely stand to be in the same room. You’re always so tense. You never touch her. You never say her given name. There is no spark between you.”

  Phillipa must be blind. The spark was so bright, it terrified him.

  He was tense because he wanted so much more than he had a right to expect.

  Pleasing Amelia was all he could think about sometimes.

  Phillipa leaned back against the door, blocking his way out. “You married an embarrassment. I know how poorly your father thinks of your second wife. He likes me better. Divorce, and he’ll forgive any scandal when we wed. You must have known I would do anything for you. But I understood your fear and was prepared to wait.”

  Milo frowned. “What fear?”

  “Of marrying your friend’s widow. We have both grieved enough for Thomas.”

  He shook his head. “I was your husband’s best friend. You and I had nothing in common beyond that.”

  “You were meant for me,” she insisted. “Your father knew that. Why else invite me here so often?”

  “That was a mistake on his part. A presumption.”

  “Presumption? After all the time I devoted to your weeping daughter, do you really expect her to accept another woman becoming your duchess.”

  He took a step back, finally hearing her confirm her end game. She’d befriended Lucy to gain a title. She’d played his daughter false and saw nothing wrong with that. “So, you believe you’ll make me a better duchess?”

  “Yes, of course I will!” Phillipa’s fingers flicked imaginary lint from his sleeve in a way he found insulting. “And I won’t deny you your indulgences with other women like she would.”

  “How selfless of you,” he drawled, feeling sick at the mere thought of betraying Amelia.

  “Amelia has promised I was free to engage in affairs, too.” Expected him to grow tired of her one day. But after making love to her, Milo definitely couldn’t imagine another lady in his arms. “We have an honest marriage. Passionate and a friendship I value. The exact opposite of my first and what you think we could have. Why would I want anyone who offers less?”

  Phillipa clucked her tongue. “She is not your equal.”

  “No, she is my better half.” He stepped aside, putting distance between himself and Phillipa. “Do you even like my children?”

  “What sort of question is that? Your son is your heir. Of course I like him.”

  “And my daughter?”

  “She’ll have as many servants and gowns as makes her happy. Nothing needs to change.” Phillipa walked away a few steps. “They’ll run after her, praise her, and keep her far away from us, just as your first wife always preferred. She’ll never know the difference. But of course, our own children will always be my favorite.”

  Milo heard the hitch of a breath and glanced at the door in horror. Someone was out there. Perhaps his daughter. He moved to the door and opened it. Lucy stared at him with tears in her eyes, but this time they were genuine. At her feet was a posy of pretty flowers.

  Milo reached for his daughter as Phillipa turned around.

  But Lucy stepped out of his reach and further into the room, her gaze locked on Phillipa. “You said I would be your favorite,” she accused. “You promised.”

  “Oh! O-of course you will be, darling,” Phillipa said too quickly, rushing toward Lucy.

  But the damage was done. Lucy recoiled from the woman who had lied to her, and looked at her with the proper degree of distrust for her false smile and empty promises.

  Milo moved toward Lucy and caught her hand. “Come away, my darling girl. There’s only false friends here.”

  Lucy wiped away her own tears and picked up the fallen posy of flowers. “Take me somewhere nicer, Papa.”

  “Milo, please stay and let me explain to the girl what I really meant,” Phillipa begged.

  “I understood perfectly,” Lucy answered. “You’re the one who should be gossiped about meanly.”

  Phillipa was despicable.

  He drew his daughter from the room, watching her with so much pride but also concern. The Lucy of old would have thrown a tantrum and screamed by now. She suffered a grave disappointment and it struck him that her reaction was much like Amelia’s could have been. Chin held high as her faith in love and goodness were tested.

  Amelia, like him, was afraid of love and disappointment. He did not want that for his daughter, too. “Are you all right?”

  “Papa, she lied to me,” Lucy whispered when they were some distance from the nursery. “Why would she pretend to like me when she didn’t?”

  There were some things Lucy was too young to understand yet and his heart hurt for her. “Some people are born like that. They scheme and pretend affection to smooth their way to what they want. But there is someone who wants to become your true friend, if you’d let her. Someone patient and kind, who never expects anything in return but honesty. She will never play tricks or speak lies about others or exclude you. Amelia married me just to look after you and Adam, you know. She adores children but never could have her own until she married me.”

  Lucy frowned, and after a moment, she nodded slowly. She inspected her flowers with a sad expression and let her hand holding them drop to her side. Lucy had not behaved well toward her new mama and their friendship was a long way off.

  Yet, Milo was not concerned. Amelia had a good heart, the patience of a saint, and desire to love their children. He reached for his daughter’s free hand and dragged her down the hall. “Shall we go and find your brother and then mama?”

  Adam had stayed with the maid at the stairs, playing with a pair of toy soldiers. His tension eased when the boy asked if they were going to find mama.

  “We are indeed,” Milo promised, ruffling his hair.

  For the first time, Lucy smiled at the idea of finding Amelia. “Where did she go?”

  “I don’t know but if we search long enough, I’m sure we’ll find her happy to see us,” he promised.

  His children would know the love of both their parents one day soon.

  And Amelia would learn the growing affection he felt for her, too.