Page 48 of The Duke’s Unwilling Bride

“You take umbrage with a man who binds his wife to him on the day of their marriage? Did you and Father merely seal it with a kiss?” Not that I want to know any of the details of their union; however, she needs to know she cannot dictate what my cock decides to do to its wife.

“I will not talk of such things,” she murmurs, her expression turning sad.

In truth, I do not wish to discuss it either, and not just because my parent’s sexual proclivities seem abhorrent to me. It’s more the fact that any memory of my father is sure to send a shaft of sorrow through my heart, and right now, I need my wits about me.

“Then I implore you to speak of something else. I thought I asked you to watch Teresa, to keep her well within budget. How could you let her spend so frivolously when I told you how much I was willing to put forth for the affair?”

“Let her? You assume I allowed your wife to go against your wishes? My son, the budget you set was nigh unreasonable. But even if that was not the case, she did not spend one farthing. Everything was done at my request.”

My mind swirls as thoughts collide and separate. This goes against everything I first thought about her. Could it be I’ve misjudged her in my haste to align with Lord Middlehey?

But no… there’s no way I could be so wrong. Besides, there are still the dresses to account for. She might not have had a hand in the wedding, but there’s still that matter to settle.

“Yours?” I clarify, needing to be sure. “But-”

“Do not but me,” she snaps out, her eyes bright with annoyance. “You set that poor girl up for failure. Demanding a duke’s wedding on a pauper’s budget. What were you thinking?”

“What I was thinking, Madam,” I grind out, “is that this was a test to see if my future wife would obey me or not. You ruined that by interfering.”

With a loud sigh, my mother crosses her arms and glares at me, as if I’m the one in the wrong somehow. “Test your wife? The poor, charming girl that had the misfortune of being in the wrong place at the wrong time? You mean to tell me that after all she’s been through, you not only place her in such an awkward position as to fail even before she says, ‘I do,’ but you also allow all these people to hear you both carry on upstairs without any shame?”

“Madam, I-”

“If this talk of a test is true, then you’re not the man I thought you were. You're not the son I raised. Because the man I brought up after his father left, God bless his soul, would have never done what you did here today.”

“If you will allow me-”

“I will not. I am ashamed of you. It is my hope that you plan to make it up to the poor girl. At least in Moorbury, she will be away from prying eyes and gossiping tongues.”

“We are not going to Moorbury. We are remaining here, so she may learn how to manage a smaller household first. We will all retire to the country at the end of the season. And I will hear nothing else on the subject.”

“Fine then. If you insist on being an unreasonable ass, then I have no choice but to train her here. Please leave me. There is much to still be done. I’m sure from the unholy sounds I’ve heard, your new wife would do much better with your company than me.”

If only. I would love nothing more than to be the one to tend to her, washing down her body as I bring her to the brink of pleasure again. But no. If Teresa wishes to be contrary, then I will show her she’s met her match in me. However, my mind refuses to be calm, replaying the words of my mother over and over.

Perhaps I acted too rashly. Perhaps my mother was right about me being an ass. Part of me does want to make amends; however, I will not be the first to bow down. Teresa is the one that is refusing my physical touch, and so it will be she that begs me for it.

Bowing, I turn to leave, only to have my mother stop me. “Oh, and Joseph. You should have a bill from the modiste in your study. I have taken the liberty of purchasing new gowns for the season. I offered to get some new ones for Teresa, but she refused. Such an odd little thing. Perhaps you can drag her out of the study long enough to have her enjoy the finery London has to offer. She is, after all, the wife of a duke now. She could stand some more fripperies.”

I stay rooted in the spot as my mother drifts away, once more taking up her command post as the silver and crystal are taken from the dining room. Teresa didn’t buy the dresses? And from my mother’s accounts, Teresa was telling the truth about the wedding. If she had no hand in it at all, then I certainly can’t lay that sin at her feet.

But the dresses… My gut clenches as I stare up at the ceiling. Again, that niggling thought worms about in my mind. Could it be I’m wrong about her? About everything?

Shaking my head, I head out toward the main door. Just because she had no hand in this affair or the clothes, doesn’t mean there’s still not something sinister lurking underneath that innocent veneer. Middlehey had it on good authority she squandered the family’s fortunes. And so far, I’ve not uncovered anything about him that reveals massive debts or a gambling addiction.

Something just doesn’t add up, and I detest the fact that someone is lying, but now, I don’t know who. I was so set on believing Teresa to be a villain, but now, I have to reconsider, to probe a bit more to find the truth. And if it turns out she’s not the guilty party… well, then they will pay dearly. Even if it is indeed Middlehey.

Friendship or no, I’d rather see him on the dueling grounds if all this does, in fact, turn out to be a lie. The only saving grace he has is that there is no evidence pointing the blame at him. But that just means I need to up my search.

Debts don’t just die down. There is always a trail. And if all roads lead to someone other than my bride, then they will pay.

Shaking my head, I run my hand through my hair, disheveling it in a most inappropriate manner. What makes all of this so intricate is the fact that no one can seem to pull up anything. All I have is the word of a man who’s been by my side through thick and thin.

Sure, he seemed gleeful at his cousin being married off to me, but that could easily be explained by the fact he was happy to be rid of her. And when I offered money to cover his debts, he didn’t ask for more. He simply took it with pleasure.

A man who was after money would have milked me for more. Nothing I’ve seen points any fingers at Middlehey, and in some ways, I wish they did. I don’t want to hate my wife, but until evidence proves otherwise, I’ll have to be on my guard, watching every dime that slips from my coffers.

Leaning against a wall, I let the back of my head thump against the hard surface. What muddies these waters even further is the fact that my dear wife seems to thrive on my rough treatment. In truth, the more hellacious I am to her in bed, the more aroused she becomes.