Page 77 of The Duke’s Unwilling Bride

Even now, I replay the words the barrister said as he looked over the will and all the evidence. Everything was sound and in correct order. All that was left was for Mr. Sutton to come claim the role as earl. He was the final wild card.

Would news get to him in time? I don’t dare hold out hope he will be able to attend tonight’s festivities, but sooner rather than later, he would have to give up his current profession. I mourn for his flock, but in the end, having him at the helm of Middlehey would help everyone.

Around the room, I spot my friends, the other Alphas who will be with me to the end. Honest, unlike Middlehey. Though my natural instinct right now is to question everyone and trust no one, I choose to give them the benefit of the doubt. To show me that they are false, as he did.

Off in the corner, Birchleigh and Lord Hazelwick eye the ladies, their lips quirked in wolfish grins. No doubt they’re trying to decide which one they’d like to share. Like the recluse he is, Fitzwilliam is off in the corner, nursing a drink.

Barrington and Norhaven share a drink as they chat, though the latter keeps looking out into the crowd. His eyes search about as if looking for someone. A few moments later, he then becomes crestfallen when they do not appear. Once more, I wonder if he has a secret love, one he doesn’t want to part with his money over.

Fortescue follows after his sister, Lady Elenore, as she follows the men in uniform, her moon-eyed gaze not going unnoticed. I don’t envy him. Though I too have a sister, she is safely away at Moorbury… far away from any touch of scandal.

One by one, people enter, their names shattering the calm. It’s a crush, to be sure, and yet there is still one name that hasn’t been spoken. Not yet anyway. Perhaps we just missed him?

Glancing up at me, her eyes wide, Teresa asks me her unspoken question. All I can do is shake my head and turn my attention back to the crowd. There’s no way an earl would refuse the invitation of a duke. Not if he had any sense about him.

Besides, knowing that little snake, he’d take every chance he gets to ask me for more money. What better place than at a ball? Pushing him out of my mind, I instead turn my attention back to Teresa.

For her first ball, she’s doing admirably. I cannot help but feel the pride burning in my chest as she goes about her duties, greeting people and making sure everything runs smoothly. Off in the distance, I spy my mother, her smile mirroring my own.

Another thread of guilt assails me, urging me to make amends. On my way over to my mother, I pull Teresa off to the side. Bending low, I kiss my mate’s hand, pausing a moment to graze my teeth against her knuckles. “I would so love to be ravishing you at this very moment, perhaps taking you into a nearby room and fingering your pussy until you can’t hold your cries back any longer. Would these people hear you, perhaps? Would you want them to?”

As expected, her face turns a bright crimson as she darts her gaze away. “Such scandalous things you say, Your Grace. You might turn my head if you were of a mind.”

“What is that I smell? Are you already wet for me? Wanting me to invade your body? Soon, my hungry little wife.”

Her mouth opens and closes several times, her cheeks stained vermillion. “You cannot possibly-”

“Oh, don’t tempt me. I can make you quiver where you stand, possibly even cause you to release here in front of everyone. Shall I try?”

“No, you oaf,” she squeals, drawing curious gazes our way. Clearing her throat, she shakes her head, doing her best to hide her smile. “What would these people think?”

“It will only confirm what your mark says so loudly.” Her smile droops for a moment as she goes to adjust her dress. “No. Leave it. I want every man in here to know I own you, body, soul, and with my bond. Now then, I shall attend to you later.”

Pulling away, I merge into the crowd of people, making my way to my mother. She stands there, tall and proud, a serene smile on her face. Sheepish, I give her a courteous bow before taking my place at her side.

“Seems your wife is taking on her role very well.”

“So it seems.”

“And I suppose you’re seeking me out to tell me I was right?”

Frowning, I look down at her and shake my head. “I came over to apologize.”

“Ahh. Then yes. You are here to tell me I’m right. Well then, get on with it. I do so love a good grovel.”

“I do not grovel, Mother. You know this.”

“Yes. I know you can be a downright stubborn arse. A pig-headed male that cannot see reason.”

Shocked by her unfiltered words, I take a step back. “Madame. I have never once heard you use such language.”

“And nor would you have if you hadn’t been so stuck in your ways that you could not see the angel that fell into your lap. I assume you’ve made amends with her? The glow that refuses to leave her face seems to tell the tale, and yet, I want you to convince me.”

With a sigh, I gather my mother’s hand in mine, holding it as I infuse my love for her into my words. “I was given faulty information. I was led to believe she would be the ruination of us. That-”

“Of all the absurd notions,” she cuts me off, her gaze flying over to my wife. “I could have told you from day one she was nothing more than a shy little thing hurting from the death of her father.”

“You talked much with her then?”