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For another thing, Tyrone was certain that he would run into his mother again at that ball. And he wanted to avoid that at all costs.

But Emily was absolutely delighted at the idea of meeting Viscountess Gage, the actress and the owner of the Medusa theater, which was surprising considering the last time they went to the theater, she’d spent the entire performance facing away from the stage.

Still, she wanted to attend the ball, and he wasn’t going to refuse her.

He loved seeing her bubble up in excitement and beam with joy. He would fight a storm without complaint if it brought a smile to her face.

He wanted to make her happy. So far, he’d been doing an extremely poor job of that.

He’d come to care for her in their short marriage. He loved her compassion for others, the care with which she approached everything she did, the way she’d befriended his staff and turned his residence into a home.

He couldn’t help but admire the loyalty she had for the people she loved and her strength in the face of adversity. That was what had attracted him to her in the first place, even if he hadn’t understood that at the time.

But seeing his mother at dinner the week before, he’d finally realized one thing. Emily hadn’t known him when she married him. She thought him a reprobate and a rake, a drunkard and a violent man—all true in their own way. Still, she’d begged him to take her as his wife in order to save her family and protect her child. Then fought him every step of the way in order to ensure the safety and stability in her siblings’ lives.

She’d entered a potentially dangerous situation for the rest of her life, knowing full well that she wouldn’t be able to escape because so many people depended on her.

And that realization not only made him admire her more but also forgive her for the lie.

Perhaps, he wasn’t as mad at her as he’d thought he was.

The thing that hurt was that he wished she loved him as much as she loved her family. Because if she did, then perhaps, with her by his side, he could take on the world.

But she didn’t.

She’d only used him to benefit her family and her unborn child. And he was fine with that. As long as he could use her a little in return. Use her passion for their joint pleasure and her joy to bring him a semblance of peace.

They walked through the doors to the Gage ballroom, her hand in the crook of his arm, her hair bouncing with every step.

She was gorgeous, proudly looking out into the crowd of people as the majordomo announced them as the Duke and the Duchess of Tyrone. They made their way downstairs and exchanged pleasantries with the hosts. The viscountess seemed genuinely pleased to make an acquaintance of the duchess. She quickly took her by the arm and led her away, citing the need to introduce her to her sisters-in-law.

Tyrone was loath to let go of his wife, but he had no choice but to acquiesce. He made awkward eye contact with Gage for one short moment after their wives left before turning away in search of acquaintances.

It wasn’t hard. This ball was full of eccentrics, deviants, and otherwise scandalous individuals, a crowd of people Tyrone oddly felt comfortable around.

He made the rounds, talking with a few people, all the while not taking his gaze off his wife. She seemed to have found a group of women she felt comfortable with. Nobody dared to invite her to dance—clever men—and not a single man approached her without the company of his wife.

Tyrone relaxed, not quite certain why he was worried about other men approaching her in the first place.

He was so preoccupied with his wife that he didn’t even notice the presence of another Duchess of Tyrone at the ball.

The only reason he noticed her at all was the hushed whispers from people around him.

And then he saw her approaching his wife. A smile. A friendly conversation.

Tyrone clenched his fists.

The mere sight of his mother made his chest hurt. He didn’t need his wife making attempts to reunite them. He married her with the sole purpose of keeping the dowager at bay. And now she seemed to want to use his wife against him.

Emily hadn’t spoken to him about the dowager since the night of the Sutton dinner. And he’d hope that would be the end of it. But his mother was a tenacious one. Perhaps, he needed to find out what she wanted from him. If she wanted money or jewelry, he was willing to give them to her if she agreed to disappear from his life.

Tyrone cut through the crowd with measured steps. He tried to regulate his breathing, thinking of the things he could say to her to keep the conversation short.

“You can have whatever you want,” he’d say. “Enough money to leave the country and build yourself a small dowager estate off the British coast.” Of course, that would probably not be enough. But he wouldn’t be blackmailed into giving away his fortune. He’d earned it through his suffering. She hadn’t.

What else could she want from him? Surely, nothing.

What if she was planning something with his wife? A double betrayal?