The Seduction of His Wife by Tiffany Clare Page A

bread to the ducks.”
    She looked at his hand for a moment before taking it. He was done talking about the past, at least for now. She had to think on his words, on the small facets of his character he’d revealed to her over the course of their lunch.
    She slid her gloved hand into his and let him pull her to her feet. He tucked her arm against his just as he gathered up the bread and handed her a few choice pieces to break up for the birds.
    She was glad to have spent the day with her husband. To have learned a few small details of his past. To know why he’d run for so long.
    Perhaps she’d never truly understood Richard’s father. She might never understand why their relationship had been strained. The man had been another father to her. Maybe he’d done so out of fear she’d leave him, too.

Chapter 8
    I feel like Sleeping Beauty, forever asleep, with the waking world continuing on without me fully aware. Only there is no prince to wake me from this slumber, this half-life.
    His fingers traced the edge of the envelope through his jacket. It appeared his wife was in regular correspondence with the Duke of Vane. When the letter had arrived, he’d had three options: He could open and read the missive himself to find out how close the duke was to his wife; he could take the envelope outside and set a match to it; or he could see his wife’s reaction as he handed it over to her.
    The last option would be the most revealing.
    So here he stood outside her room, waiting. Always waiting for her. She had strung him along like a hapless dog over the past week since their impromptu picnic.
    Richard didn’t intend to spend half his morning finding her whereabouts, as he’d done yesterday, the day before, and the day before that. Pulling out his pocket watch, he checked the time. Half eight and Emma still hadn’t come out of her room.
    He was a patient man. He’d wait here until she was ready to face the day. The door pulled inward to reveal his wife. She looked elegant in a sun-yellow walking dress and straw bonnet with matching satin ties. The color added a spark of mischief to her eyes and a spot of pink to her cheeks.
    Emma was like a night-blooming water lily, her beauty locked tightly away from the world, showing its true self only under the pale caress of moonlight. In an unguarded moment.
    Not that he’d ever chanced to see her that way. Not yet. It was a matter of figuring out how to tear away the shield of modesty she wore like a chastity belt.
    “Good morning, Emma.”
    She dipped her head on a curtsy.
    He offered his arm. “Where do you escape to on this fine sunny morning?” It never hurt to charm a woman. He would win her over. He was a determined man.
    That got a grin out of her, and her arm through his.
    “I’m to meet with my sisters for an early-morning constitutional.”
    “Might I join you?”
    She raised one blonde-winged brow. “I have no objection.”
    Perhaps throughout the morning he could charm his wife into a more agreeable mood—and her sisters while he was at it. If he had the other Hallaways on his side, this wooing—or whatever the hell he was doing—should unfold more smoothly.
    Arm in arm, they met Grace and Abby in the back gardens. Both sisters frowned at his appearance. Ah, this was something the sisters did together. Emma had let him come along knowing her sisters would see his presence as an intrusion.
    Abby scrunched up her brows in disdain. “Does Mr. Lioni plan to join us in our outdoor excursion since we are making this an event for all?”
    He gave the youngest sister his most charming smile. “I cannot say. He’s an early riser, so there’s always a chance he might catch up with us at some point.”
    Abby said nothing more; it was as though she were sulking at his interference. Grace, on the other hand, smiled and winked in his direction.
    They walked down the great limestone slab path in twos. Rows of flowers lined the way, filling their morning with a multitude