Page 12 of The Duchess’ Little Miracle

As she followed the butler down the corridor, a sense of doom settled over her. She was completely ruined. The partnership was barely an hour old, and she had already failed her end of the bargain.

When William found out that she had bored his traumatized ward to sleep with mathematical equations, he would probably laugh her out of Mayfair and end their agreement on the spot, and without his help, the blackmailer would win.

CHAPTER SIX

“The letters,” William said, as soon as she walked into his study. “Did you bring them?”

“I am nothing if not prepared, Your Grace,” Seraphina replied. She reached into the small reticule at her wrist, pulled out the neatly folded packet of parchment, and extended it toward him.

William took them, his fingers brushing against hers for a brief second before he turned away to lean against the edge of his desk. He unfolded the first page, his head tilting down as his eyes began to scan the letter.

With his attention fully occupied, Seraphina finally allowed herself to look at him. There was no denying that the Duke of Norwyn was an aggressively attractive man. He possessed a striking, athletic build that even the tailoring of his superfine coat could not entirely hide. His shoulders were broad, tapering down to a lean waist and long legs that suggested a man who spent more time in the saddle than in smoky London clubs.

His hair was a rich, deep brown, thick and slightly wavy, falling just loose enough to soften the otherwise harsh angles of his jawline. But it was his eyes that drew the gaze most of all... a vivid green that seemed entirely too intricate to belong to a cold man like him.

He looked less like a pampered peer and more like a dangerous predator briefly wearing the clothes of a gentleman.

Men like these have to be hiding secrets.

William shifted, the fabric of his trousers straining slightly against his thigh as he leaned heavily on the desk, flipping to the next letter. She wasn’t sure how many he had read in the time she spent studying him.

“These are worse than I anticipated,” he murmured, his brows drawing together. “From what I can see here, this person wants you to stop writing?”

“Yes.” She nodded.

“Why?” he questioned. “That is ridiculous. Look here. The first two only hint at your style of writing, but by the third, they are referencing your exact phrases from the April edition. Whoever this is, they are tracking your specific vocabulary. They are gathering more precise information about you as time goes on. It feels like stalking.” He looked up, his eyes locking onto hers, searching. “It is incredibly concerning. How did you read these and simply keep writing? Most women would have burned their pens and fled to the countryside in terror.”

Seraphina forced a smile. “Most women would be right to do so. But this is practically the only thing in the entire world that I am good at, Your Grace, and I am not easily frightened by words on a page. I knew the risks when I took up the pseudonym. I expected someone, eventually, to grow angry enough to threaten me.”

William stared down at the final parchment, his thumb tracing the edge where she had torn it open. “But you are desperate enough to want to find them?”

“Yes. The last letter they sent is the only one that truly managed to terrify me,” she admitted. “The one that explicitly mentioned my sisters. I can tolerate a coward throwing stones at me from the shadows. I am perfectly willing to face this man myself, to look him in the eye and watch him try to ruin me. But I will not allow him to use my family to threaten me. They did nothing wrong. These are my opinions.”

The study fell completely silent, save for the ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner. William did not look back down at the letters. Instead, he simply stared at her, his eyes unblinking. For a long moment, it felt as though he were measuring her, testing the mettle of the woman standing before him.

Finally, he cleared his throat, the sound cutting through the tension of the room. He straightened up to his full height, folding the letters back into a neat stack.

“You have an absurd amount of courage, Miss Seraphina,” William said, his voice entirely serious now. “Under normal circumstances, a threat like this would not concern me in the slightest. What you must understand right now is that I am incredibly, obsessively protective of my family’s name. I have not spent years protecting that name just for someone to make a mockery of it with a stolen crest. I am going to get to the bottom of this, and I will find the person who did this.”

“Also, for what it is worth,” he continued. “I actually like your writing. I like your opinions, even though some of them can be quite problematic and wrong.”

Seraphina’s posture went instantly rigid. She snapped her head up, her eyes narrowing. “Problematic? In what way, exactly, are my columns problematic, Your Grace?”

A small smile crept onto his face. “We can get into that later,” William countered smoothly, brushing the question aside. “For now, what is important is that you should know that I am looking into this. I have people already doing something about it, and they will be coming in later today to meet with me. You do not need to face him alone, Miss Seraphina. Though I must admit, it is quite refreshing to meet a woman who is entirely unafraid of a fight.”

The gravity of his promise hit her all at once. For the first time in her life, a stranger was standing between her and a threat, declaring his intention to shield her. Even though she knew his primary motivation was protecting his own legacy, the fact that he was extending that protection over her made something warm and entirely unwelcome tingle deep in her chest.

A fierce heat rushed into her cheeks. Embarrassed that she was allowing his words to reach places in her body, Seraphina quickly looked away, feeling thoroughly flustered.

She heard the soft thud of his boots against the rug. William walked right over to her, closing the space until she was entirely trapped by his shadow. Without a word, he reached out, placing one finger right beneath her jaw. With a gentle pressure, he angled her face up.

Seraphina found herself staring straight into his eyes, where a distinct, teasing humor was dancing.

“Your cheeks are flushed a rather brilliant crimson, Miss Seraphina,” William murmured, a wolfish grin pulling at his lips. “Tell me... is this the very first time a gentleman has ever made you swoon?”

It was, in fact, the first time a man had ever made her feel utterly breathless. Hating the sudden weakness, Seraphina pulled her jaw out of his grasp and glared at him, her eyes flashing with fury.

“Do not flatter yourself, Your Grace,” Seraphina said as she stepped back to break his hold completely. “It is a simple matter of... vasomotor activity.