Page 49 of A Tale of Two Dukes

Once I imbed my teeth into her body, he’ll have no choice but to acknowledge me as her lord and master. Shaking my head, I glance at the window, relief at being so close to home flooding through my veins. In truth, I don’t care where that weasel is as long as my omega is safe going into her heat.

However, once the carriage stops and my door opens, I see red. Faint, scant traces of the aforementioned, knobbed-in-the-head, buffoon’s scent teases my nose. It’s an affront that I will not stand. Once more, his abominable scent is in my domain, somewhere it most certainly does not belong, especially when it’s so close to my omega.

Did he hide in wait? Watching in anticipation for me to leave? I was gone for a mere handful of hours. Unfortunately, it’s more than enough time to wreak havoc. My heart races as I stride to the door. As long as my omega is safe, I recite in my head with each clack of my boots against the stone.

The closer I get to the door, however, the stronger the scent becomes. Underneath the mildewy stench is a hint of satisfaction, a smug whiff of arrogance that sets my teeth on edge. Why, it’s almost as bad as if he cocked his leg up and pissed all over my door.

He’s lucky I don’t turn this instant and hunt him down, grinding his bones into dust. Still, instead of vendettas, right now, I should be more concerned with Kitty. The moment the door opens, I step inside and pin the butler with a glare.

“Hugh was here.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“Has he harmed Kitty?”

“No, Your Grace.”

At his words, my heart slows down, but only for a moment. Turning, I scan the area, looking for any signs of disarray and finding none. “What was his purpose?”

“He spoke with Ms. Bartlett in the drawing room.”

My brows raise at this bit of information. “Kitty chose to converse with him?” A band tightens about my heart, squeezing in a most painful manner.

“It appeared that way, Your Grace.”

“Chaperoned, of course.”

“Of course, Your Grace.”

For a moment, the band loosens in minute increments. “And the nature of their conversation?” At this, the butler hedges, his face turning a slight shade of pink. “Their conversation?”

“Please forgive me, Your Grace. The servant was unable to hear. They both kept their voices low.”

“Damnation,” I roar, slamming my palm against the doorframe.

To his credit, my butler doesn’t so much as flinch. He’s seen me in a mood before, but never this irate. Turning, I follow the scent to the drawing room.

Thankfully, there are no traces of arousal from Kitty’s end, but that doesn’t excuse the scent of her heat permeating the space. There’s no way Hugh didn’t smell it on her. If he had taken advantage, I would have been told about it.

This only means he didn’t touch her. It doesn’t mean he’s not somewhere else, stroking himself to her scent. My scent. Everything about her body, including her intoxicating smell, is mine.

With a growl, I follow the alluring temptation, pausing at the door of our shared room. It’s much stronger here, tearing at me, driving me to join her in a rut. But I can’t. Not with so many questions still unanswered.

Besides, I need to touch her, to smell her, to know unequivocally that his scent does not reside on her person. What’s to say they didn’t sneak off somewhere after this conversation?

What the devil is wrong with me? With a sigh, I force my ire down, determined to be gentle and coax the answers out of her. Besides, soon, I’ll claim her and know everything in that convoluted mind of hers, anyway.

No sense causing a fuss when I’ll know her most intimate details the moment my teeth pierce her skin. However, all rational thoughts flee when I open the door to reveal her kneeling in a pitiful pile of sheets, her fingers worrying that damned charm on her necklace.

“Miss me?” She looks up, unease flitting through her eyes as she drops her hand.

Stepping further inside, I shut the door behind me and prowl forward, my lip curling up a touch.

“As always, Your Grace.” By her side, her fingers fidget, as if desperate to touch the necklace again, but not wishing to anger me.

Too late. Loosening my cravat, I take shallow breaths to keep from being caught up in a rut. “And your little meeting?” Her eyes slide to the side for a moment. “Damnation, woman,” I bite out, my tone sharp. “What rules have I given you regarding me and this house?”

She bites down on her lower lip, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “Obey your every command, Your Grace.”