A Duke Never Forgets by Bianca Blythe

Author:Bianca Blythe
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: regency romantic comedy, amnesia romantic comedy, regency comedy romance, regency historical fiction, historical romance dukes, amnesia romance, regency cornwall
Publisher: Bianca Blythe
Published: 2020-07-21T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWELVE

“WOULD YOU LIKE TO SIT in the front?” Sebastian asked. “Then you can lean into my arms.”

Genevieve hesitated. “I would prefer to sit behind you.”

“Very well,” Sebastian said, even though he would prefer to wrap his arms about her delightful waist.

As Sebastian rode toward the cottage, he strove to ignore the sensation of Genevieve’s bosom. Riding was sufficiently complex without having his mind focused on the sensation of two lovely round globes pressed against his back. It seemed impossible to think he’d forgotten the sight of his own wife’s bosom, but he had no doubt it would be wonderful.

“I didn’t expect to find you at Mr. Williams’s field,” Sebastian said.

“I don’t make a habit of it,” Genevieve said. “Hence, Mr. Williams’s shock.”

He snorted.

“But what were you doing there?” Genevieve asked.

“Me?” Sebastian blinked.

“You’re not supposed to be doing manual labor.”

“I don’t mind. I assumed that’s what my muscles are for,” Sebastian said.

“Nonsense.”

“You don’t find them sufficient?” Sebastian reached behind his back. He grasped her small hand and placed it on his forearm. Then he flexed.

She giggled. “You’re worse than Billy.”

“Billy’s muscles are no comparison to mine,” Sebastian said.

“That might be true,” Genevieve admitted. Her voice was at a higher pitch than before, and she withdrew her hand rapidly.

Sebastian sighed, conscious that something must have happened between them. Something negative. “Why did you enter the field?”

“I didn’t want you to work.”

Sebastian frowned. He hadn’t expected her to say that. “I need to make money. I need to provide for my family.”

“No, you don’t,” Genevieve said. “We have a cottage. We’re fine.”

Sebastian shook his head. “I saw what your mother is paying for rent. It’s overpriced.”

For an odd reason, Genevieve seemed to stifle a giggle.

Well. People had always called Sebastian funny before, but he wasn’t aware his abilities to induce laughter were that consistent, even when speaking about expenses.

Perhaps he was not.

Perhaps he was simply meant to be with Genevieve and meant to make her laugh. Laughing had been an infrequent occurrence at his home. Before Papa was home, he was often gallivanting by himself in the city. From Mama’s sour expression, Sebastian assumed Papa had been visiting brothels, or perhaps, some expensive mistress installed in a London apartment.

The sound of the waves was stronger here, and the road curved toward the ocean. He inhaled a delicious salty scent. Seagulls flapped ivory wings as they screamed. He wondered whether their frequent squawks derived from pleasure at hollering and directing everyone to observe their flying or simply trepidation during the act itself.

“Did I like the ocean?” Sebastian asked.

“You adored it.”

Sebastian turned his head toward the sound of the waves. The road curved again, then suddenly, the ocean was before him. Sapphire waves tumbled together, flashing their diamond crests. He stared, watching the pattern of waves. More seagulls played, swirling over the water, occasionally skimming the surface to feast on tasty delights.

This wasn’t sunrise or sunset, and no pink or orange light played on the waves. It didn’t matter. The ocean was already stunning, already perfect.

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