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Tyrone looked down at his hands. He didn’t have a ring. He didn’t even think he needed a ring for this. Could they not get married without rings?

“With my body, I thee worship,” the minister continued.

Tyrone squeezed his fingers around his bride’s hands. He could not give his body to her. At least, not fully. Was he allowed to lie in the vows? Why was he suddenly bothered by it?

“And with all my worldly goods, I thee endow.”

This part, he could say. He didn’t mind sharing his wealth, after all.

Tyrone opened his mouth to repeat the words but nothing came out. His mouth was dry and no matter how hard he tried, no sound emerged.

With all my worldly goods, I thee endow!

Tyrone screamed the words in his mind, but his lips refused to cooperate, his throat refused to let out the sounds.

“Aargh!” Tyrone let out a scream only to sit up in bed.

He blinked a few times, his breathing labored, trying to get used to the brightly illuminated room.

He should learn to close the drapes before going to bed.

He averted his eyes from the windows and threw the sheet off.

He paused at an unexpected discovery.

He was still clothed, his shirt was buttoned, and he even had a waistcoat on. But that wasn’t the surprising part. What caught him off guard was the fact that his breeches rode down on his hips and the falls of the breeches were undone.

What had happened last night? He didn’t remember much.

He remembered getting married… Or was it a dream? He couldn’t quite make out which part was reality and which was not. It wasn’t the first time that had happened, either.

Perhaps he should give up the drink.

Tyrone smirked. As if that was ever going to happen. At least, not while he was still in England, on his father’s properties.

He scrambled from the bed and stretched, his eyes catching more and more of the room.

Wait a moment, I’m not even in my bedchamber!

It was the duchess’s chamber!

Now things slowly started making sense. He had spent the night in his wife’s room… and his falls were undone. This meant that—

The door handle rattled and the door opened, revealing his wife as she walked into the room. She took a couple of steps before pausing. Her eyes wide, she looked as bewildered as Tyrone felt. Then her gaze dropped down his body, and her mouth fell open.

Tyrone followed her gaze, and his cheeks burnt in embarrassment.

Fuck. His breeches hung around his hips, and his crotch was completely naked to her view. He quickly jumped to pull up his breeches and buttoned up.

“Apologies!” His wife turned away as if that would help her unsee what she’d already witnessed. “I… uh… I didn’t mean to stare.”

“No need to apologize,” he answered. “It’s not like you haven’t seen it before.”

“Yes, I certainly have. If you’ll excuse me.” She hurried away and locked herself in her dressing room.

Had she gone there to hide from him? Well, if she’d thought that he’d leave her alone, she was mistaken. They needed to talk. Tyrone needed to make certain he hadn’t made the greatest mistake of his life last night. If he bedded her, he, at the very least, should have used precautions. But he couldn’t see the evidence of that anywhere in the room.

His wife returned a few moments later, looking rather pale. Her eyes were sunken, and her cheeks lacked any color. She’d washed her face, he realized by the wet strands of golden-brown hair curling by her temples. The rest of her hair was pinned rather strangely to her head, not that he was a master of coiffures. She looked at him as if she’d expected him to be gone by now.