Chapter Forty

The grand four-poster bed was the most comfortable thing Delia had ever slept in her entire life, with linens as soft as clouds and a mattress that seemed to cradle her perfectly. Yet, sleep refused to come. She tossed and turned, her mind a chaotic blend of the day's ordeal and the memory of a Duke's intense gaze. The silence of the magnificent house was a huge difference to the noise inside her head.

With a frustrated sigh, she sat up. The moonlight streamed through the large window, bathing the room in a silvery glow. She reached for the glass of water on the ornate bedside table and drank it all in one go, but the cool liquid did little to soothe her restless spirit. She wanted to pour herself another glass, but when she lifted the heavy crystal jug, it was empty.