Page 80 of Bloodgrove

Some distant voice in his mind wondered what kind of books she had been reading, because the sight emptied his thoughts entirely.

The wind shook the carriage, black strands of hair whipping around her face. Her dark brows drew together, and her swollen red lips framed her glistening tongue. Nothing remained of the innocence with which she had caught snowflakes.

Damn her. This woman would be his ruin.

Will closed the door. “Turn around. Hands against the wall.”

Elodie swallowed, but he saw in her eyes how close she was to her own release. Pleasuring him had aroused her. She rose and presented her backside to him, bracing her forearms and hands against the carriage wall.

Will gathered up her skirts and pleasured her until the Ormonde townhouse came into view. She was a trembling heap of bliss when he finally let her clothes fall back into place, and for one night, they forgot the engagement ring on her finger.

Chapter 42

“Do you even understand what you have done? Do your tea parties and dinners, and leave politics and magic to me!”

On his way back to the conservatory, Will stopped, his notebook tucked beneath one arm. At the far end of the corridor, Hedgefort stared at the wall as though his gaze might pierce it and strike the duke on the other side. Her fiancé had turned the two enemies into allies, and Will offered the butler a sympathetic smile.

“I gave them what they deserved! You should have dealt with them long ago,” Elodie shot back.

“I didn’t need to. Everyone knows that. Unlike me, they never had any true chance of earning the office.”

“You always say that, but no one knows it for certain. Mr. Arcos has every bit as much chance as you do.” Will could almost picture Elodie taking a breath and reining in her storm. “You know you have my complete support and admiration. But what makes you so certain he will choose you?”

The silence that followed was sharp enough to cut. Will approached cautiously, uncertain what he would do if the duke raised a hand against Elodie. He couldn’t even say whether she would want him to intervene. Her voice, even when she contradicted Wilkinson, remained soft and demure.

When the duke spoke again, his voice was almost too quiet to hear. “Do you doubt me, girl?”

“No. Never.” Elodie sighed. “It is only… I have fought for the office for so long that I no longer know how not to. And if you are the one destined to win, I will help you. I only need to know how.”

Will twisted his mouth. She was remarkably poor at playing the submissive maiden. Every sentence would irritate the duke rather than appease him.

“Of course you do not understand how! You have never truly fought for anything. This is a game to you, an excuse to host another party and parade about in one dramatic gown after another. I am speaking of real power.”

“My darling,” she began, then caught herself. “You are right. I was fortunate to come this far at all. What happened at the ball yesterday showed me how dangerous this struggle truly is.”

Had Will not hated hearing her diminish herself, he would have praised her. That was precisely the tone required to appeal to Wilkinson’s protective instincts.

“I know. Formally renounce your candidacy. Put an end to this farce.”

“Not until we are married, my darling. My remaining in the contest makes you appear stronger.”

Before Duke Wilkinson could question that claim, Will marched into the drawing room. He slowed his steps and didn’t even need to feign surprise when he found Elodie seated upon her fiancé’s lap. Until now, they had always maintained the polite distance appropriate to an unmarried couple. A small voice in the back of his mind wondered how far Elodie was truly willing to go to secure this man.

Dresses and shoes of fine silk lay across the coffee table and the upholstered furniture, unmistakably made somewhere beyond Bloodgrove.

“Duke Wilkinson, I did not realize you were here,” he lied, hearing Hedgefort follow him into the room.

Elodie quickly slipped from her fiancé’s lap, and both of them moved to opposite ends of the sofa.

“I am glad you are here.” Elodie wound a gift ribbon around her finger. “Hedgefort, I will be traveling to Duke Wilkinson’s country estate for the winter solstice. Please make all the necessary arrangements.”

Will and Hedgefort exchanged a glance. In the Capitol, it was the Feast of Angels. Songs were sung, food was shared, and families gathered in the temple to offer praise. On the shortest day of the year, the gods had sent their messengers to bring light into the world.

He was certain Bloodgrove did not celebrate the occasion in quite the same manner. No doubt it involved blood and human sacrifice.

“Alone?” Hedgefort asked with one eyebrow raised. His gaze fell pointedly upon the arm’s length of space now separating the betrothed couple. “People could talk, so close to the wedding.”

Wilkinson pressed his lips together at the mere thought of scandal. Will could only explain the duke’s willingness to marry someone as notoriously scandalous as Elodie because he truly feared she might challenge him for the office of Red Hand.