Page 101 of The Duchess He Couldn’t Resist

“I was not complaining,” she responded, raising her eyebrow.

* * *

Brandon had completely lost track of time for that day that seemed to stretch forever. When they reached Verdant House, the sun was setting. He had already sent messages, and the servants were already aware and had their instructions.

Mrs. Hodgins appeared at the entrance.

“Your Graces!” She had motherly concern on her face, focused especially on Marigold.

“You do not have to worry,” Marigold tried to calm the old woman.

“Have you prepared what I sent for?”

“Yes, Your Grace,” Mrs. Hodgins nodded as she led them inside.

“Cool water, bandages, and take this salve to my room.” Brandon gave the staff the medicine the doctor had provided.

He could feel everyone’s eyes on them. It was not every day that they saw a Duke carrying his wife, but he could not care less what people thought of him. He only cared that Marigold was safe and healthy.

Brandon carried Marigold up the stairs and into his bedroom. He placed her gently at the edge of the bed and quickly started to take care of her. He brought a big basin of cool water and a soft cloth. He knelt before her and lifted her feet, placing them gently into the water.

“I know it’s cold,” he said, looking up at her face, “but just bear with it a little longer.”

“It’s not that bad. It actually feels good.”

He nodded, admiring her bravery. He then took another basin with warm water and started to slowly wipe the ash, soot, and dirt from her body. He started with her face, cleaning away, revealing her beauty.

“I need to get you out of these clothes. They’re ruined,” he said simply.

Marigold blushed a little, but even she couldn’t disagree. Softly, Brandon pulled the fabric off her shoulders and his adept fingers undid the buttons of her dress. Something was shifting between them, something that was swaying between desire and care. Brandon realized that this would be a constant state around Marigold.

“Brandon, I can take off⁠—”

“I am sure there are a lot of things you can do, Marigold,” Brandon said, his voice coming out a little breathy. “But for now, you’re going to let me do them for you.”

She nodded, biting her lip, and Brandon kept undressing her, his soul settling as he saw that she was not injured anywhere else.

He wiped most of the dirt off her body, slowly, his heart beating fast, his body burning to see her unveiled in front of him. But also focused on her care, holding back from pouncing on her like a wild beast.

“Does that hurt?” he asked as he finished cleaning her legs.

“I am fine,” Marigold responded.

But he could tell that she too was affected in a very different way that had nothing to do with care by his slow touch on her body. Her fingers were curling the bedding, and her breath was shallow.

Brandon took her hands and caressed them. He wiped her long arm with a cloth until he reached her wrists. There were burns from the ropes, and Brandon froze. It was as if he was thrown into a cold lake of guilt and shame. He made his wife think that he was discarding her. He made her run away, and that put her in harm’s way.

“Brandon?”

“Tell me that you know,” Brandon demanded as he took care of her wounds. “Tell me that you know that I would never ever leave you.”

“Brandon…”

“Tell me that you will never leave me.”

Marigold leaned and placed one soft kiss on his forehead. He looked up at her. He knew that he had been through some pain in his life, but he didn’t know what he had done to deserve her.

“I love you, Brandon. How could I ever leave you?”