Page 31 of The Duke’s Unwilling Bride

I watch as the others turn their attention to the pleasure slaves in the room, gearing up for a bout of fun. The only one that hangs back is Norhaven. Though I don’t question his choices in not taking a woman into one of the back rooms, I study his face, the clench of his jaw, the squareness of his shoulders.

It’s the same look I wear. And we both sit about, uncomfortable in the space when where we really would rather be is with the women that can’t compare to these. Though Norhaven will probably not admit as much, he can’t hide the way his gaze turns away every so often, as if looking upon another woman is betraying someone else.

Pulling the vase closer to me, I distract him by pulling out a wad of paper. “I had a feeling this would come up sooner rather than later. You better be happy I had this much on me. If not, I would have made you all wait until we were back in the country to fill this coffer.”

Stuffing the pounds down into the opening, I watch as they disappear into the bottom. Norhaven pulls it back towards him, a thoughtful look on his face. “Whom do you suppose will be the next?”

I slide my gaze to the side, eyeing him, but remain silent. When he wants to confide in me, he will. “Would it be too much to hold out hope I’m the only one swinging from the bridal noose?”

Norhaven snorts and takes a drink from his cup. “What worries me is that now you’ll start a trend. Eligible bachelors being snatched up without their wanting to.”

Chuckling, I hold my cup up in a cheer. “Yes, but hopefully, none of these women will use the same tactics.”

“Hear, hear!”

CHAPTER 15

Joseph

The ride home is miserable. Now that the others are either deep in their cups, deep inside women, or back at their London houses, it’s just me as I steer my horse through the crowded streets. A slight drizzle turns the whole world gray, a fitting color for my mood.

Once more, I pull out the ring and study it in the filmy dimness, noting that the overcast skies have dulled its shine. It’s a simple band, really, but possesses five small sapphires fashioned into a small cross. In the light of the shining sun, these stones were the only ones that even came close to rivaling her eyes.

Such a stupid, sentimental thing, especially after the havoc she’s wreaked within my household. To be fair, it’s not just her doing alone, but as she’s combined forces with my mother, the entire house is in a state of pandemonium. If only I were not a duke and far more willing to go to Gretna Green. All of this would have been handled by now.

But no. I had to make the mistake of choosing a wedding in town in an effort to quell the vicious tongues of the Ton. If I had chosen the easy way out, to elope, it could have meant that scandal would continue to follow us. Even if I don’t want to marry the chit, I would still prefer our union not to be rife with malicious gossip.

A long sigh slips past my lips as I hand my horse off to the groom and head up to the house. Mother thought it best for Lady Teresa to stay with us while the wedding preparations were happening. Far be it from me to argue with someone that has already been through her own wedding and helped with countless others.

Still though, it causes me great physical distress to see the young omega in the hallways after I’ve vowed to not touch her again until our wedding night. My mind refuses to leave that night I had her in my dungeon, strapped down to my bench. She was so helpless, so small, so aroused.

And, as if I’ve conjured her, she floats down the stairs, her nose in a book, and her hair pulled back out of her face. Her clothes are plain, and her hair is not in any way coiffed—just pinned up out of her eyes. She’s certainly not in fashion with a duchess and is more in line with a common worker.

As much as I want to hate seeing her look so comfortable, part of me loves the fact I’m seeing her so unguarded, so innocent. Every other moment, her face is pinched, her body rigid. Perhaps it’s that I’m catching her in this moment, and not just the clothes. Either way, it is far too late in the day for her to be walking about in such a manner.

Clearing my throat, I watch as she jumps, the book fluttering down from out of her face as she sees me standing there. A light blush tinges her cheeks, drawing my attention back to those arresting eyes. I frown and cross my arms before giving her book a pointed glare.

She gives me a small curtsy before tucking the book back behind her. “Forgive me, Your Grace. I was not aware you were back home.”

“Clearly.” I let my gaze drift to her inappropriate attire, something more appropriate for lounging about in the earlier hours and not this late in the day. “Are you not too busy with wedding preparations to be reading?”

“You must jest, Your Grace. I’ve seen your library. With all those books, you must be drawn to them at some point. Unless they’re there as simple decoration.”

I hesitate, not certain as to whether I should let her in on the secret that I’m far smarter than I let on. “Those books were there before I acquired this house. I cannot tell you what is contained behind their covers.” The lie slips easily from my lips.

Lady Teresa blinks at me for a moment before her face crumples. She’s crestfallen as she brings her leather-bound treasure back in front to stroke the spine. “I feel sorry for you then, Your Grace. But rest assured, as the new lady of this house, I will take great care to make sure each book is loved and read.”

A ghost of a smile teases my lips as I lean in close to her. “Bold of you to assume I won’t be occupying both your body and your mind far too often for you to fool around with these books.”

Her mouth drops open, but she quickly recovers, straightening her shoulders as she stands there prim and proper. “Not all time can be spent idling away in foolish pursuits. Now then, if you are quite done, I need to return this book and go meet with your mother.”

“Dressed like that?”

She glances down at her dress before frowning up at me. “Is something showing I cannot see? Am I improper?”

“To see a duchess? Yes. Even though she is a dowager, she demands respect. I-” From out of the corner of my eye, I catch a glance of said dowager as she flits about in her unornate day gown. “What have you done to my mother?”

“You mean besides showing her that not every moment has to be an affair? Nothing.”