The Seduction of His Wife by Tiffany Clare Page B

of colors and fresh, sweet scents. Candytufts to attract butterflies, red roses to add color, white delphiniums mixed in with the splotches of crimson.
    His mother had kept this garden going when he was a child. Had spent hours at a time out here with him. He couldn’t remember his father keeping up the gardens after she had died. This all must be his wife’s doing. He glanced at her, but she focused straight ahead, hardly paying attention to him.
    “The gardens are beautiful.”
    That got him a small smile. “Grace helped me when she started spending the summers here a few years ago.”
    “Beautiful. Regardless of how you accomplished it.”
    “Thank you.”
    His wife was more shy than normal. She was quiet. Contemplative.
    Dante caught up with them ten minutes into their walk. It gave Richard the perfect opportunity to steal his wife away from her sisters.
    Slowing his and Emma’s steps so they could talk without being overheard, he said, “You’ve done a fine job in ignoring me this week, Emma.”
    “Have I?” She did not look at him when she answered. Instead, she kept her attention focused on her hand, where she brushed over the soft petals of a black-eyed Susan that stood tall in the path they walked along. Pinching the stem up high, he plucked one of the flowers for her.
    He stopped and pressed a finger under her chin, angling her face toward him. He settled the flower so the stem was tucked behind her ear, the yellow petals just peeking out from beneath her bonnet.
    “You’ve hardly said a word.”
    She studied his face, then turned away and gave him a tug to continue down the dirt path. “I had a restless night.”
    He looked her over. Sure enough, the whites of her eyes were lined in red, dark circles shadowed beneath. “Do you want to rest a moment? We can catch up to your sisters afterward.”
    “Is this some trick to get me alone?”
    “Possibly.”
    Though getting her alone had its merits, he now noticed her weary look, and her slow steps had them lagging behind the rest of the company.
    “Ladies,” he called after her sisters, “we’re resting here under the trees.”
    Dante seemed happy to have the two beautiful ladies on his arms all to himself. With a nod in Richard’s direction, Dante wheeled them back around on the path and continued on. Abby gave him a long look over her shoulder and narrowed her eyes.
    Richard led his wife over to a pair of tall trees so they could sit in the shade. Releasing the tie on her bonnet, Emma sat in the shade of a large oak, twirling the flower he’d given her between her fingers. She tossed her bonnet aside, lay back with a sigh on the grass, and closed her eyes. Her hands were folded over her ribs, her legs curled to the side and hidden under the swath of light yellow silk she wore.
    Hiking up his trousers at the knee, he sat next to her, one knee bent for his arm to rest upon. He tossed his hat in the general direction of his wife’s and stared down at her reclined form. Unable, and unwilling, to resist touching her soft skin, he ran the back of one finger down her rosy cheek. She gave a soft sigh, and her eyes cracked open to watch him.
    “What were you doing last night that you didn’t sleep?”
    She covered her mouth on a yawn. “Went to bed much later than I planned.”
    “You’re evading my question.”
    “I know.” Her eyes now seemed sharp as a leopard eyeing her potential mate. “Tell me something … Would most men be as patient with their wives as you have been?”
    He shrugged. “I can’t say with any certainty that I’ve done anything right this past week. Not where you’re concerned.” It was an honest answer.
    She took a long inhalation and turned her head away from him to look at the branches of the tree above them.
    She stretched her hands above her head. The strain of her breasts against the stripes of her dress was torture to him. “What would you do if I gave you admittance to my room tonight?”
    “I’d