"Is that so? It's nothing I couldn't teach you." He glared at John.

"Yes, Clara. The Duke is a far better physician than I am."

Clara?! Did he just call her Clara, Leo thought angrily. He was just about to reprimand him when Clara spoke.

"Pish posh, he's just more experienced because he's much more older than you are."

John actually blushed.

Older? She thought he was old?

How had he never noticed how stupid John looked, Leo wondered silently. He was going to have to talk to Clara. He didn't want her to disrupt his juniors' practice. But he'd have to be gentle. And his brain started reminding him of all the other times he could be gentle with her.

"My Lord, are you alright? Clara asked.

Oh God, what had she been talking about? He immediately cleared the perverted thoughts in his head.

"I'm sorry, I was just thinking about a particularly complicated case."

"Oh never mind. It's not like you'd mind anyway." She shrugged.

"What is it?" He persisted.

"John giving me lessons in the human anatomy."

"I just told you that I could help you with that." He said through clenched teeth.

"But you're so busy. Look at how you lost your temper today. And don't worry, John will only conduct the lessons during his break." She smiled.

Leonard wanted to break something, preferably John's neck. He couldn't say anything now though, it would make him look like a tyrant. He nodded and took his leave.

Clara was already missing her husband. She hadn't seen him at luncheon either.

She was still a little upset over what had happened that morning, but thought it was better to let it go. Clara thought she'd seen jealousy in his eyes when he'd seen her talking to John. But she discarded that thought because she knew how mature he was.

Just then a footman appeared with a note. It was from him. Her stomach fluttered.

It said– If you have nothing to do this afternoon, would you like to join me on a picnic beside the river bank?

–Leonard.

The note was so much like him, direct and to the point.

She quickly wrote back a note saying she'd be ready in half an hour.

Leo was excited about the picnic and excitement wasn't something he was familiar with.

He'd planned it so he could make it up to Clara for today morning. The thought of spending time alone with her was enough to send blood rushing to his loins. There hadn't been any question of going on a proper honeymoon because of Isabelle. So they'd have to make the most of what they had.

Clara arrived precisely half and hour later. She'd left her hair unpinned and it was flowing down her back in soft chocolaty waves. He wanted to devour her. He held out his hand and she took it with a smile. It reminded him of the first time they'd taken a stroll in the gardens. He was always a beast to her, but she always put up with his thoughtless actions.

He wasn't very religious, but he thanked God anyway.

When they reached the lake, they laid down the picnic towel together and opened the basket their French cook had prepared for them. They ate and chatted for a while. Clara was surprised by how much they were laughing. She loved watching her husband laugh, he looked so delicious when he laughed and the sound of his laugh did indescribable things to her.

"What are you thinking about?" Leo asked her when she'd been staring at him for a while.

Kissing you, she wanted to say but held her tongue. She didn't want him to know of the power he held over her.

Clara wanted nothing more than to accept her life and be happy, but the duke's secretive nature kept her from going after the happiness she was seeking.

Were they to live like this forever, all his demons standing between them and their happiness?

"Clara?" He asked a little concerned now, his brows furrowing together.

"I apologise, I was just wool gathering.." she said sheepishly.

His face said that he didn't believe her, but he didn't say anything.

For a while, they just say there staring into each other's eyes. She thought she could get lost in his dark grey eyes.

"Tell me something about your childhood," she said suddenly.

His gaze grew hooded.

"What's there to tell? Haven't you heard about my parents?"

"I have" she nodded.

He just shrugged.

"I had a very unhappy life, thanks to them."

She was about to ask him to elaborate, but he held up his hand.

"Can we please talk about something else? I brought you here so we could have a romantic afternoon, do you really want to talk about my far from pleasant childhood?" He half smiled.

It was that sarcastic smile, Clara hated it, she knew it was artificial.

She knew better than to push it though. So she just gave an artificial smile of her own.

His body had been tense just now and he seemed to relax a bit.

He crawled over and gave her a peck on her lips. She longed for more but now was not the time. She wasn't ready to give herself to him until he gave himself to her completely. So she turned her head slightly. He seemed to have gotten the message because he sighed and changed his position.

And then he put his head on her lap. She couldn't have protested even if she'd wanted to and she obviously didn't want to.

"So what's the name of your hero?" He asked casually, staring at her face. It made her feel suddenly shy.

"Blake."

"Is it based on someone you know?" One perfect brow arched upward.

"No," she half-laughed.

She didn't know how it was possible, but his brow went even higher.

"Alright, it's not someone I know. But it's one of the characters I fell in love with from my favourite book. He was portrayed so well. Amelia, my best friend thought I was daft to have developed an infatuation with a fictional character. But fiction is so much better than reality, don't you think?" she grinned.

He huffed.

And then smiled, just a bit.

"You know, I love using parts or characters with similar names or roles of my favourite books in my novels."

"Why?"

"Those books are the reason I write today. I connected with those characters more than I did with most people around me. And by using them in my books, I feel like I'm still connected with them in some way."

He just stared at her silently.

"Oh Lord, you think I'm demented too, don't you?" she groaned and covered her face with her hands.

"Not at all," he said, pulling her hands away from her face. "And try not to use the Lord's name in vain," he said in an amusing imitation of the monotone voice the clergy used.

After her smile faded, "Also, I find you extremely fascinating," he said earnestly, as if he meant it.

"Thank you?" She giggled.

"And don't ever hide from me like you tried to just now," he said, serious again.

"What if I were to ask the same of you?"

Leo was at a loss of words, he didn't know what to say.

He couldn't give her what she wanted. She wanted love and all the other institutions he didn't believe in.

He could promise to never lie to her, but he couldn't promise to be completely honest with her. There were parts of his life that he didn't want to share with anyone. Especially his wife because it might send her running in the opposite direction.

He took her small hands in his large ones.

"I swear to you Clara, I'll do everything that I can to make you happy. But I'm a very private person, you cannot expect me to change that now, can you?"

She just nodded, as if she knew he'd say something like that. As if he'd done exactly what she'd expected him to do. As if he was an idiot.

And that troubled him.

But it had started raining, so they just ran back home and the moment was gone.

Both of them appeared to be normal. Both of their hearts were heavy with all the unsaid words and unshared emotions.