Lady Ines Scandalous Hobby-Chapter 127 - Hundred And Twenty Seven

The black carriage rolled to a smooth halt on the cobblestones of the Hamilton estate. The night air was crisp, carrying the scent of damp earth and distant rain, but inside the carriage, Carcel felt nothing but a burning, focused heat.

He waited for the footman to open the door, his gloved hands resting calmly on his knees. When the door swung open, he stepped down onto the gravel driveway with the grace of a man who owned the very ground he walked on.

Carcel reached into his waistcoat pocket and retrieved his silver pocket watch. He pressed the catch, and the lid sprang open. The hands pointed exactly to the hour of seven.

A small, satisfied smile touched his lips.

Punctuality was a virtue, something Ines would really appreciate.

He walked up the stone steps to the heavy front door. He did not need to use the brass knocker. Before his hand could even rise, the door was pulled open from the inside.

Simmons, the Hamiltons’ longtime butler, stood in the threshold. He was an older man with a spine as stiff as a poker and a face that revealed absolutely nothing.

"Your Grace," Simmons said, bowing low.

"Good evening, Simmons," Carcel said, handing his hat and gloves to a waiting footman. "I trust the family is well?"

"Very well, Your Grace," Simmons replied. He straightened up and gestured down the long, candlelit hallway. "Lady Ines is waiting for you in the dining room. Dinner has just been served. If you would follow me?"

Carcel nodded. "Lead on."

He followed the butler through the familiar corridors. The house was quiet. Usually, when Rowan was home, the Hamilton mansion was filled with the sound of shouting, laughter, or the barking of hunting dogs. But with Rowan away with the Elders, the house felt hushed, almost holding its breath.

Carcel’s boots clicked rhythmically against the polished floorboards. He felt the weight of the secret plan in his mind, but he pushed it aside. For the next hour, he did not want to be a conspirator. He wanted to be a fiancé.

Simmons stopped before the double doors of the dining room. He placed his hand on the brass handle, paused for a fraction of a second, and then pushed the door open.

"The Duke of Carleton," Simmons announced.

Carcel stepped inside.

The dining room was illuminated by the soft flickering glow of a hundred candles in the crystal chandelier above. The table was long enough to seat twenty, but tonight, it was set for two. 𝐟𝗿𝐞𝚎𝚠𝐞𝚋𝕟𝐨𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝕔𝕠𝚖

And there she was.

Ines stood by the fireplace, her back to the door. She was staring into the flames, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. She was wearing a midnight blue dress. The fabric was dark and rich, shimmering slightly in the firelight. It hugged her waist and flowed down to the floor in heavy, luxurious folds. Against the dark blue, her skin looked like porcelain.

She turned at the sound of his name. Her eyes widened slightly, and a look of pure relief washed over her face.

"Carcel," she breathed.

Simmons cleared his throat politely. "Shall I have the soup served, My Lady?"

Ines looked from Carcel to the servants hovering by the sideboard. There were two footmen and a maid, all waiting to do their duty.

Ines straightened her spine.

"No," she said, her voice clear and firm. "I would like to be alone."

The servants exchanged a quick, confused glance. It was highly irregular for an unmarried couple to dine completely alone, without even a chaperone or a servant to pour the wine. It broke a dozen rules of propriety.

But Ines did not waver. She stared at them until the maid curtsied nervously.

"Of course, My Lady," the maid whispered.

Simmons bowed to Carcel, then ushered the staff out. He gave Carcel one last, lingering look—a look that said behave yourself—before he closed the heavy doors.

The lock clicked softly.

Silence descended on the room. It was a heavy, charged silence. The air seemed to vibrate with the energy between them.

Ines did not wait. She did not stand on ceremony. She crossed the room, her skirts swishing softly against the carpet. She walked straight to him, stopping only when she was inches away.

Carcel stood still, watching her come to him. He felt his heart rate pick up, a traitorous thumping against his ribs.

Ines reached up. Her hands, usually so steady when she held a quill, were trembling slightly. She smoothed the lapels of his coat, her fingers brushing against the fine wool. Then, she reached for his cravat. It was already perfectly tied—Carcel’s valet was an artist—but she adjusted it anyway, tightening the knot just a fraction.

It was such a domestic gesture. It was the kind of thing a wife did for her husband before he left for Parliament. It made Carcel’s chest ache with a sudden, fierce possessiveness.

"I’m glad you’re here," Ines whispered, looking up at him through her lashes.

She stood on her tiptoes and pressed a quick, soft kiss to his lips. It was meant to be a greeting. A chaste, polite welcome.

But Carcel was not feeling polite tonight.

He smiled against her mouth as she pulled away. He looked down at her, his eyes traveling from the top of her pinned-up curls, down the curve of her neck, over the blue bodice, all the way to the hem of her gown.

"You look beautiful," he said. His voice was rougher than usual, stripped of its polished veneer. "That color... it belongs on you. You look like a queen."

Ines blushed, a lovely pink color rising in her cheeks. "I wanted to wear your colors. I figured you might like it."

"I love it," Carcel murmured.

He reached up and cupped her face in his hands. His palms were warm against her cool skin. He brushed his thumbs over her cheekbones, tracing the line of her jaw. He looked into her eyes, seeing the fear she was trying to hide, and the love she wasn’t hiding at all.

"I miss you," he confessed.

It was a simple sentence, but it carried a weight that filled the room. He didn’t just miss her company. He missed her scent. He missed her wit. He missed the way she made the darkness inside him retreat.

Ines’s breath hitched. "I saw you days ago, Carcel."

"That was a lifetime ago," he said.

He lowered his head and kissed her.