Page 35 of A Duchess to Unravel (The Devil’s Masquerade #3)

Lastly, she slipped the pins from her dark curls and fluffed out her hair before sliding between the cool sheets of her bed.

She heard a knock on the door. “Yes?” she called.

It opened, and Norma stepped inside, a small glass balanced on a silver tray.

“I have your tonic, Your Grace,” Norma answered.

“Thank you, Norma,” Theo replied. “You may set it on the bedside table.”

Norma did as requested, and then asked, “Might I close your drapes for you as well?”

Theo nodded, wanting the darkness. The sun seemed to only taunt her with its brilliant, cheery yellow. Norma moved to close the drapes, shading the room. Norma then moved to leave, but as she reached the door, she turned back to Theo, and curtseyed.

“If I may say so, Your Grace, I sincerely hope you wake in better health. I have … I have worried for you,” she said timidly.

Theo was only able to offer a small, empty smile, and nodded.

“Thank you, Norma. I shall be fine. I just need a good rest.”

Norma curtseyed in agreement, wished good dreams, and left.

Alone once again, Theo reached for Alistair’s letter and read it in the dim light.

Dear Kitten,

I pray you have settled well into the country estate. I have not yet heard from you so I am assuming you have everything you need.

After much consideration, I have decided to return to Scotland earlier than expected. My work is nearly finished, and I have no other reason to stay. As promised, the country house, the castle, and everything I own in England is yours to use as you wish.

At the risk of pressing upon you too much, I would like to offer one last visit before I depart. It would be well to see you a final time. If not, I am leaving Mr. and Mrs. Mackenzie behind to care for the castle, and they will have means to send word to me if you are ever in need of me.

I wish you well, dearest wife. You have made my stay in England more enjoyable than I could have ever hoped.

Your Husband,

Alistair

The A, L, and I of Alistair’s name bled as a tear fell from Theo’s wobbling chin. Alistair was leaving. Permanently.

She had thought her heart could not break any more but another bit of it fractured off, causing a sharp pain to well up in her chest. More tears followed, blurring the letters, and with a shaking inhale, she sat the letter on her bedside table before she could damage it any further.

Theo then picked up the small glass of tonic and swallowed its contents in one gulp. Then, unable to help herself, picked up the letter again; two sentences echoing louder than the rest.

It would be well to see you a final time. If not, I am leaving Mr. and Mrs. Mackenzie behind to care for the castle, and they will have means to send word to me if you are ever in need of me.

That Alistair wished to see her one more time was the only thing she liked about the letter.

If he wished such a thing, perhaps it meant that he missed her.

Then there was fact that he was leaving the Mackenzie’s behind.

Theo knew that the married couple had been with Alistair since he was fifteen; over sixteen years they had served him loyally.

In fact, he was as loyal to them as they were to him, taking them everywhere he traveled.

Yet he was leaving them behind for the first time ever.

Was he leaving them for her? To watch her? Protect her?

Theo sniffled as she felt the effects of the tonic begin to seep into her bloodstream.

She sat the letter on the pillow beside her and snuggled down into her bed.

Keeping her eyes on the bit of paper that still connected her to her husband, Theo began to feel a warm drowsiness begin to take her under as she thought.

Perhaps she would agree to a visit with Alistair. Perhaps she would be able to explain these feelings that had gathered in her heart and made her hurt so. Perhaps she ….

Theo’s thoughts melted together into a mess of words and images as she closed her eyes, surrendering to the effects of the tonic.

Theo’s body hummed with joy as she felt Alistair’s warm, hard body pressed to her. His kiss was deep, seductive, and slow as their hands drifted lazily over one another’s bare skin. She inhaled, taking in his rich, musky scent, and she sighed in contentment.

“Show me,” she whispered onto his lips, “Show me everything.”

“Everything,” he murmured back, his hands massaging all over her. “Anything. Anything you want, Little Kitten. I shall give it all.”

The dream was heavy and fuzzy, taking her leagues away from reality. She sighed in her sleep, burrowed closer to the pillow hugged to her chest. In the distance, far away, she heard a crash of glass. A feminine shout.

“What was that?” She whispered in her dream. She tried to pull away from Alistair, but her body felt too heavy. She didn’t want to go anyway. Not really. She wanted to stay.

“Stay with me,” Alistair whispered, then kissed her again; his lips so warm and sweet that she immediately settled back down beside him.

She gave in to the dream entirely. Not realizing that the shouts, the crashes, and the single shot of a pistol, were all real.

The feeling of being picked up and carried away was the dream, not her moment with Alistair.

He was what was real, and the barely subtle sounds and sensations of being put into a carriage.

Of having her hands bound and her body groped by strange hands--those were the nightmare.