The Duke's Reluctant Bride

Chapter 48: A Borrowed Soul

The breeze whispered through the trees, rustling the leaves in a soft, steady rhythm. Crickets hummed faintly in the dark, filling the quiet between them.

Adeline's gaze never left his. Surprise flickered in her eyes. The touch of his lips on her forehead had been brief, almost fleeting, yet the warmth lingered. She only gave a small nod in response, an unspoken acceptance. Somehow, she knew this was the first time her husband had shown affection, no matter how subtle.

If he had leaned toward her lips instead, things might have been different. Such boldness might have shattered her view of him—not as a man of restraint, but as someone driven by desire. Yet he hadn't, and she was glad.

He'd chosen to be gentle. Respectful. And that told her more than words could.

Her thoughts trailed off as she glanced at him again. Lucien's expression was calm, though a faint smile tugged at his lips as the firelight flickered across his face.

Adeline felt something stir within her—quiet understanding, maybe even gratitude. Her guard was still up, but piece by piece, it began to lower.

"No, Your Grace... I should be the one to thank you," Adeline murmured. "You saved me and Melissa."

Lucien gave a small nod, his expression steady but gentle. "You're right. I suppose that makes us even." he replied.

A quiet pause settled between them, the fire crackling softly. Then his voice broke the silence, calm but edged with a rare trace of hesitation.

"I'm sorry if my gesture surprised you," he said. "I'm not really accustomed to showing gratitude through affection. But as your husband, I believed you deserved at least that much, for all you've done and for standing by me."

Adeline's cheeks warmed. She met his gaze briefly before lowering her eyes. "It's alright, Your Grace. I understand. I admit... it was a bit sudden," she said, trying to steady her tone.

Lucien's brow lifted slightly, the faintest hint of amusement touching his eyes. "So, you're saying it wasn't enough?"

Her head snapped up. "What? No, I'm not saying—"

Before she could finish, he leaned closer. His lips brushed her cheek this time—not a fleeting touch like before, but lingering, warm, and deliberate. The kiss carried no urgency, no demand. Only tenderness.

Adeline froze, her heart leaping to her throat. The warmth of his lips spread across her skin, steady and patient, as though he meant to tell her without words that she was safe, that this was trust, not desire.

Acting on instinct, her hands shot forward, pressing against his face as she pushed him back in surprise. Her eyes widened, breath catching.

Lucien blinked, then exhaled softly, his tone even but laced with quiet sincerity.

"Did I make you uncomfortable?" he asked. "I only thought that if what I did earlier felt lacking, then I should do it right. When I do something, I'd rather not leave it unfinished."

A faint flush touched his own cheeks, the firelight catching it before he looked away.

Adeline shook her head quickly, her voice unsteady. "No... I—you don't have to do that, Your Grace. I never asked for more."

Her words came out rushed, but there was no anger in them. Only flustered confusion, and something softer beneath it.

Lucien's lips pressed into a thin line, and he gave a small nod in response. "I understand."

The silence that followed was no longer strained. The air between them had softened. Adeline could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath her through the thin fabric, leaving little space to breathe. The faint press of her curves against him made her pulse quicken, though she tried to steady her breath.