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“Do you truly wish you hadn’t?” Emily asked.

The duchess licked her lips. “I would have probably been dead. But I would have the love of my child, so perhaps I do. I love seeing my son all grown up. But I wish I had been by his side while he was a child.” Her eyes glistened, and Emily couldn’t help but feel compassion for the woman who’d made an impossible choice. At the same time, she felt protective over her broken husband. The woman in front of her was partially responsible for his struggles, his nightmares.

“Why are you telling me this?”

The dowager clenched her fists. “I want to mend my relationship with my son. I don’t expect you to beg him for forgiveness on my behalf. But perhaps you can arrange a meeting for us? One where he wouldn’t escape. I am not asking for much, just for an opportunity to speak to him. To tell him my side.”

The footsteps alerted Emily of someone’s approach before the butler rounded the corner. “The carriage is ready, Your Grace.”

Emily nodded and turned toward the dowager. “I can only promise that I will speak to my husband. But I can’t promise he will listen to me.”

The dowager nodded gratefully. “That’s all I ask.”

Emily found Alec in his room, sitting by the window, staring into the darkness. She tried to be silent in her approach, and he didn’t give any indication that he’d noticed her until she was a few feet away.

“I apologize for leaving you behind,” he said gravely.

“That wasn’t nice,” she agreed easily and stepped closer to him.

He let out a hoarse chuckle. “No, it wasn’t. I am quite a bastard, aren’t I?” Something glinted in his hand and Emily frowned.

“Sometimes,” she said and took a few more steps until she saw his profile, his arm propped against his knee, a glass dangling from his fingers. Her gaze dropped lower to a bottle of whisky by the chair. “Where did you get that?” She pounced at him, her fingers closing over his hand.

He didn’t protest, relinquishing the still-full glass of whisky. “Sutton’s house.”

With sure steps, Emily walked up to the hearth and emptied the glass into the fire. It hissed, the flames dancing brighter.

“Do not worry, I didn’t even have a sip,” he said from behind her.

Emily’s hands shook. “You can’t resort to drinking every time something unpleasant happens.”

The chair creaked as he stood and walked toward her. “If I did it every time something unpleasant happened, I’d never have given it up.”

She whirled around, her breath heavy, only to realize that he stood right behind her. She tipped her head back so she could look him in the eyes and swallowed. “Do you mean everything that has happened between us since our wedding has been unpleasant?”

He pursed his lips, his eyes roaming her face, then dropping to her lips before returning her gaze. “No, I suppose not.”

They stood like that for a long moment, just inches apart, studying each other’s features. His closeness was muddying her mind. She came to his room to talk about his mother, but now all she wanted was for him to kiss her.

He raised his finger and slowly, gently caressed her cheek, tucking a wayward lock of hair behind her ear as he did so. Emily swallowed. Her heart slammed against her ribs as heat spread along her limbs and low in her belly. She needed to speak up now or soon they would not be talking. “Why did you leave tonight?”

He grimaced, but instead of answering, he ran his finger down her neck, over her collarbone, then traced it along her bodice, over the tops of her breasts.

“Why haven’t you told me about your mother?”

His eyes closed briefly before he slowly stepped to the side, his fingers still tracing along the bodice, then over her shoulder. Stepping behind her, he rubbed her neck. Emily caught her breath as he started undoing her gown.

“I gather that you don’t want to talk, but—”

“I don’t.” He instantly cut her off.

“But I do.”

The gown gave way and fell, pooling at her feet. Her stays followed, and she turned to him, her rumpled shift the only article of clothing clinging to her body. “Ale—“

He cut her off with a hungry kiss. His mouth slanted over hers, his hands roaming her body, pulling her closer to him. Emily couldn’t help but return the kiss, her fingers clinging to his neck, drawing him even closer. His hands slid lower, squeezing her bottom, rubbing her belly over his hard length.

He wanted her.